Tag: IFTTT

#365daysofbiking The magic hour

April 21st – I was, it has to be said, physically battered from the previous day – my body is clearly raging and takes longer to recover now than it did. On a pleasant Sunday I pottered over to relatives in Burntwood and returned in a gorgeous golden hour and stopped as I laboured back up the hill to admire the oilseed rape fields of Hammerwich in the dying sunlight.

The recovery ride was pleasant and enjoyable but hard work. But in this light it was a joy.

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#365daysofbiking Demolition, man

April 20th – I didn’t think anything could annoy me on such a beautiful day. I didn’t counter for the absolute jobsworthyness of Derby County Council employees at their most officious.

At Longcliffe near Brassington, in an accident with a too-tall HGV the previous Wednesday a bridge had been completely wiped out under the High Peak Trail – clearly not the fault of the authority who moved quickly to make it safe and fence off the danger.

On this sunny holiday Saturday, the trail was busy with riders enjoying the sun. Was there a posted diversion? Was there heck. Nothing. Asking at the trail centre at Middleton Top I was told ‘I’m sorry I’m not allowed to offer advice on bypass routes’ immediately after them asking if the y could help me.

At the site itself, an officious, pompous man from the council informed me that there was absolutely no way around and I should go back from where I came. Looking at the map I found an easy public right of way off the trail and a way back on a couple of hundred yards further up.

Derbyshire Country Council, the High Peak Trail is one of your tourist earners. Cyclists come from miles around to ride it. Had this been a road, a diversion would be in place within an hour. On this you were rude, unhelpful, officious and useless.

Get a grip.

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#365daysofbiking Hall or nothing

April 20th – First dayride of the year on a glorious spring day racked up a decent 188 miles.

Leaving at dawn to return in the evening, a run the length of the High Peak and Tissington trails and then over the Weaver Hills was just what the doctor ordered although I was exhausted at the end of it.

The rout was broadly Lichfield – Burton via Whittington and Walton; Derby via Findern; over to Keddleston Hall where I opened these majesticic gates to cross the hall grounds. From there, Mercaston to Kirk Ireton, joining the HPT at Middleton Top.

Return was via Rochester, Abbots Bromley and Handsace.

I have missed having the Peak District in my life so much.

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#365daysofbiking Sunshine yellow

April 19th – Spring is mostly about yellow for me. Cowslips, daffodils, oilseed rape and dandelions, the latter two painting the fields different shades of gorgeous on a diving evening.

Near Chesterfield, Wall an untouched meadow of dandelions looked superb, and will make most wonderful hay or grazing.

At Sandhills, the oilseed caught the dying sun wonderfully and lovely as ever, smelled of Swiss cheese.

Glad to have better days here at last.

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#365daysofbiking Peace, at last

April 18th – The end of work for a few blessed days, good weather in prospect and time on my hands. Bliss.

This of course meant the last working day was everything busy, at top speed. Finally nearing home as darkness fell, I stopped to look at the canal as I crossed Clayhanger Bridge.

Blossom is out, the trees are that bright, lucid green they only achieve at the very peak of spring, and things were calm and quiet.

It’s only been a few weeks since Christmas, hasn’t it? Yet here, in the light, the green, and warmth again.

And me, myself, at peace, at last.

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#365daysofbiking The remains of the day

April 17th – An absolutely gorgeous day and the first jacketless commute of the year didn’t come a day too soon.

Sadly I was indoors all day, but riding home in the still warm golden hour, I caught the sun throug the canalside trees near the Black Cock Bridge and the remnants of the sunny day were precious.

It’s good to have the warm days back again. I hope they stick around.

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#365daysofbiking Waiting for a fluff explosion


April 17th – On the way to work near Greern Lane, Shelfield, I notice the sallows are flowering now, and this is one of the more interesting blooms of springtime.

Sallow or goat willow is a member of the wider willow family, and grows profusely hereabouts. After the initial pretty male catkins have passed – pussy willows – then come the female catkins that were so well on show today. Once these peculiar green flowers pollinate, they generate wind-borne seeds in a few weeks: these evolve in the form of a large cloud of fluff that for a few days will coat the canal, towpaths, woodland paths, verges and road margins.

For now though in the spring sunshine of a warm, lovely morning – they look like something prehistoric, and in reality, probably are.

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#365daysofbiking On a springtime tip

April 16th – I had to nip to Tipton at lunchtime. Just as the rain came, which was a bit of a bugger if I’m honest.

Still, I donned waterproofs; the day seemed to be warming up and the wind had died away, so the steady drizzle wasn’t a bind.

Then, as I arrived in the town centre, this astonishing bed of spring flowers; a riot of colour on a grey, miserable afternoon.

I don’t know who planted them or who looks after them, but my goodness they are spectacular.

Take a bow, whoever you are – and thank you.

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#365daysofbiking Tree cheers

April 16th – Captured in the early morning soft sun, a tree in blossom just off Station Street in Darlaston near Victoria Park.

This is good twitter pal Naseerah Faulkner’s favourite tree, and I took the picture just for her.

Have a good day, yow!

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#365daysofbiking Long live the King!

April 15th – At the end of February, I was sure I would never see this fine gentleman again, for it seemed the flat where Sam, the elderly, toothless and thoroughly grumpy Kings Hill Park cat lived had been vacated.

I was heartbroken, and wished him well in this post.

I needn’t have worried. I spotted the old grump a couple of weeks ago in the bay window of the flat BELOW the one being refurbished, snoozing as one would expect. I obviously couldn’t take a picture, but was so relieved this venerable old lad was not gone – after all, his sleeping habits last summer entertained me on many a day and I’d become, well, somewhat attached to him.

I finally found him today in the roadside garden of the flats complex where he lives. He’s thinner, but his coat has a beautiful gloss and his wonky eyes were bright and keen. His whiskers were immaculate and Sam clearly is reclaiming his place as monarch of the Kings Hill summer.

I think he might have remembered me, or perhaps not. But I’m glad though that this old cat can sleep, hopefully undisturbed – through another warm, peaceful summer dreaming of his kittenhood and youthful exploits.

A fine lad whose return I am very glad to see.

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