January 16th – When I got to Tyseley, it was snowing, lightly. It had been a very cold commute – the bike computer said -4, but there was a freezing mist that condensed in my eyebrows and froze solid. There was a heavy hoar frost that painted everything in shades of the ethereal – trees, the railway, the urban sprawl – and I think it looked amazing.

I love how the cold weather makes even the mundane and ugly fascinating and beautiful.

January 15th – It felt like the coldest morning of the winter so far, although I doubt that was the actually the case. Overnight, the drizzle had gone and the skies cleared, and I awoke to a bright, ice-hard morning. The main roads were fine, and the countryside looked beautiful in the traitor cold sunshine. The backlands, however, were untreated and impressively icy. Even with the spiked tyres, these were a challenge for first ice-ride of the year. I loved the commute this morning, it was fantastic. After all that rain, such a joy for the brightness of the january sun, the burning cold in my throat, the steam of my breath and the concentration of riding carefully.
It’s nice to feel alive again. 

January 13th – It was cold, winter at last. I could smell snow in the air as I left home on a day that was so chilly, it caused my sinuses to and forehead to burn. I pottered up to Chasewater, delighting in riding over the icy puddles, and then over to Hammerwich, which is always nice at dusk. On the way up Meerash Lane, I pulled up short; the ice here – caused by water raining from the still-saturated fields, was thick and treacherous. Staffordshire Council never seem to grit up here, and I advise anyone without ice tyres not to bother. Under a fresh coat of snow, this could be an unpleasant start to the week in the morning for someone…

December 12th – I had hoped for a few days of cold, clear weather – but it seems the mist and murk has settled back in. Still, I don’t mind as it makes for variety and the cold adds a welcome urgency to the commute. Today, I flew through the journey along icy backlanes, the hedges and skeletal trees dusted in rime. A peculiarly grey and silent day, it was an eerie commute, and the crystal-encrusted spiderwebs on the fence at Blake Street were fascinating.

December 6th – It’s time for the winter boots again. A couple of times this week I’ve felt that queasy adrenaline rush as either the front or real wheel slipped a little bit while cornering. Such incidents are rare, but a wakeup call I always heed. Nature is telling me that it’s time to swap out the 28mm Marathon Plus tyres and throw on the 38mm Marathon Winter. These are a fatter, lower pressure road tyre exhibiting a chunky tread made from a soft compound with small tungsten carbide studs inlaid that bite into ice, mud and road debris. They’re noisy, don’t roll too well, but grip, even on black ice, like demons. They’re not cheap, but for any commuter who keeps going through rough conditions, I highly recommend them.

February 15th – Late afternoon, heading into Brownhills along the canal from Aldridge. The unseasonal warm weather seems to have returned, but the ice was still loosening its grip on the canal. As the last of it melted away, I noticed the fabulous crazing pattern it generated on the surface as it broke up and wasted to nothing. I was captivated by the fantastically complex patterns. The simplicity of nature can sometimes catch you quite unawares.

February 5th – I feel sorry for the waterfowl during this cold snap, really, which is probably a bit daft. As I took a gentle spin down the canal today, I noticed lots of forlorn looking ducks, canada geese, coots and moorhens loafing around disconsolately on the frozen canal, which itself was covered in a messy layer of slush. I watched as birds struggled to land, skidding frantically along the ice. They are, to coin a phrase, like ducks out of water. I did notice something though, today. Moorhens don’t have webbed feet. I find that a bit surprising, but as these footprints show, they haven’t got the best feet for swimming. There must be an evolutionary reason for this. Wonder what it is?

February 1st – This swan had me concerned for a bit. Sat on the frozen canal near james Bridge in Darlaston, as if he were trapped (I’m assuming it’s a he, how do you sex a swan?) I watched him for a while, fearing a stuck bird. As I started to whistle, he got to his feet, leaving small, melted imprints in the frozen canal surface. 
Birds seem able to be in contact with ice like this for indefinite periods, without their feet freezing because they have a very interesting feature in their blood circulation systems. At the top of their legs, the small amount of blood that flows to the legs and feet flows through a sort of ‘heat exchanger’ which removes heat from the outgoing blood and transfers it to the blood flowing back. Together with few nerves actually in the limbs, birds like these can stand for hours on ice with no ill effects and little energy consumption. All achieved through the magic of nature’s engineering hand, evolution. It surely is a wonder.

December 18th – A sharp, cold evening and rather dramatic sunset. Not having long, I headed out to Hammerwich to check out the views. Climbing up Meerash Hill, the ice was thick on the road, and the going on the ungritted country lanes of South Staffordshire was very treacherous. The tricky conditions were worth it, though, and rewarded me with some great pictures of the sun setting over Brownhills, and Hammerwich Church and it’s former windmill. A delightful place.