#365daysofbiking – Inverted
October 19th – At least when the clocks go back it gives a second run up at the dawns. This one, a full inversion, was gorgeous. Mist clung low over the fields and I caught it at Barracks Lane and Shenstone when I was heading for the train.
Mornings like this make you glad to be alive.
March 4th – The thing about an inversion is it’s transient. This one came and went in about 15 minutes, and it’s ever changing. As it drifted away, it left clear skies, a very noisy gull roost and beautiful colour.
Even the coos looked impressive with their clouds of steam
That’s how you fix a bad mood, and that is exactly why I ride a bike.
March 4th – I was going stir crazy. A bad day – the internet was getting me down, the thaw had set in and the world outside had the slimy, grey, filthy wet feel you only get with melting, heavy snow.
I slipped out on an errand at sunset and something magical happened. I caught a surface-air temperature inversion. I saw it start on The Parade in Brownhills, as it was gathering over the common. I raced to Chasewater. It was stunning.
An inversion occurs when the ground is colder than the air above and mist forms is very low, isolated pockets. I’ve not seen on this strong since I was a kid. Mist drifted around and almost deserted Chasewater, and I was in the middle of it, like a kid in a sweet shop.
December 18th – I did return however in mist which was pretty eerie – coming back from Shenstone I was wary of ice but the biggest issues were remarkably daft driving (overtaking on a bend in reduced visibility?) and a huge pothole I narrowly missed in Cranebrrok Lane.
My muse, Shensone Station, looks excellent in mist with it’s metal halide lights, and rolling into an ethereal Brownhills from Shire Oak in the orange glow of sodium streetlights was pretty beautiful too, despite the traffic.
December 18th – Off to Telford again, and caught out by a sharp frost, I nearly lost the bike on black ice, having chosen the one bike without ice tyres as I thought it was too warm.
I’d set out at dawn, and in Brownhills, it wa misty and warm. Unusually, as I got to Mill Green, it was cold, clear and frosty. This was unusual, as normally the reverse is true. Turning into Mill Lane I realised ice was a problem and about 100 yards on I did a series of shimmies that would have please Torville and Dean.
Luckily, I had no following vehicles, and relaxed, I let the bike go where it wanted and gradually let the velocity drain away, before walking back up the lane to the main road.
A close shave, which meant I missed my train; but it did give me chance to catch an icy dawn over Hill Hook.
January 16th – As I neared the crest of Shire Oak hill, it was murky and drizzly and the kind of night you really don’t want to be out in.
There wasn’t much traffic, either, which seemed strange – but I did note the model ‘works buses’ – not these days going to Crabtree or the BRD, but shuttling workers back and forth between the Birmingham and Black Country conurbation and Amazon at Rugeley.
These services run seemingly throughout the day and night and I’d love to know more about them.
January 7th – I love inversions, when mist rolls off water low into the air. I don’t see many these days, and certainly none as dramatic as those from my childhood, but the character of the area has changed so much in 40 years that I shouldn’t be surprised, really.
I was out after dark and noticed fleeting, transitory clouds of mist forming over the canal at Silver Street, intensifying, then disappearing. It was stunning.
I tried to photograph them as best I could, but this is really something you have to see first hand…
December 6th – Still cold, and again, a foggy, treacherous ride: I was at Telford early, and the cycleways were wet and dripping with water. The temperature was clearly rising and everything, every surface was saturated, including me.
I really hope this grim spell ends soon.
December 5th – A horrid day to ride, and even worse for taking photos. There was thick, patchy fog and the air was wet, and well below freezing. Every time I took the camera out, the lens fogged up.
The driving was mad, and as I rode down Shire Oak into Brownhills, I felt glad to be near home, soon to be out of the cold and horrible traffic.
Winter has arrived with a vengeance.
December 13th – Chasewater was grey, foggy and very, very wet when I rode through near dusk. In a curious nether-world at the moment, there isn’t the optimism here of the new year, and with the wakeboard guys all packed up, there’s an out-of-season, end of the pier feel to the place, which I rather like.
Of course, not much was visible today, it was all just shades of grey fading into the lake.
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