February 11th – It was one of those days daylight seemed to avoid. I headed to the canal for a little inspiration, but none came. The grey just merged via a horrid, drizzly mist.
The sky was grey. The water was grey. The landscape was in shades of grey. I felt grey.
Days like these really try your resolve.
October 1st – Autumn landed with a bump. A saturated, wet day, and a short break in the rain saw me head to Lichfield on an urgent errand – and I got caught by the rain on my way back.
The landscape was wet. I was wet. The skies looked threatening. But Stowe Pool and that view remained captivating.
I was back to where I am every winter – I don’t necessarily want to go out, but I have to. It’s an imperative, get fresh air, exercise, and engage with the outside world – for the good of my health: mental and physical.
Some things make even the most horrible trip out worthwhile.
March 29th – It never rains but it pours. After a period of quite grim ill health, things became a bit more complicated over Easter, and I’m beginning to wonder if life will ever return to normal. But of course, it will – it always does.
So it was into a wet, post-rain landscape that I slipped out into at dusk after a chaotic, frenetic day. Nothing was working, I was in some discomfort and I was exhausted. I was heading for Chasewater, and had looped up through Catshill Junction along saturated towpaths. In fading light, cold and with wet legs I decided to cut the expedition off at Chase Road and head back for Brownhills.
Some days you’re glad just to make it through in one piece.
March 19th – Chasewater matched my mood, grey, flat and dull… But of course, it had a certain desolate charm. I noted the reservoir was still overflowing and the flowing water in the spillway was attracting a variety of wildlife – early bugs were circulating in the air, which in turn were catching the attention of wagtails and other small birds. As I took photos, a kestrel hovered, searching the wetland for anything small, squeaky and edible.
Oddly, while I was there, I didn’t see a solitary soul.
February 23rd – After a bloody awful day that started well enough but slid rapidly downhill mid-afternoon, I just wanted to get home. I was cold, I hadn’t had enough to eat and I felt lower than a snake’s knees.
I hauled myself up the hill from Pleck as I didn’t trust my judgement on the ring road this evening, and rolled liquid through the centre of Walsall. Cutting down Darwall Street to pop something in the post, I was caught up short by the view. The bus station, the lights, something about it.
I was so cold, I didn’t stop again. Some times, you just have to keep on moving.
January 11th – I had to go to a meeting in Leicester, and for some reason felt very low for most of the day. My health wasn’t great and I felt grim and lacklustre.
Only one thing for it – comfort food on the way back. I called in a a favourite asian snack shop, and bought the most wonderful dhokla, patra and five small, crunchy samosas. The whole lot was less than £3 and came with various sauces.
They tasted wonderful and got me home feeling better. Sometimes, you just need a bit of soul food.
December 4th – Similarly, when I passed the canal junction at Walsall further on my way to work, I hopped off the ring road and on to the pavement to take this one from the Smiths Flourmill Bridge.
It’s early in the morning, the sun is low, and the two constants of Walsall – the waterway and that huge Victorian chimney stand as markers to the place I love.
A great morning ride.
October 16th – It had been a very long final day in a very long week. I was tired, my energy reserves were low and to to put it bluntly, I felt lower than the sea’s knees. I called in to Stonnall on the way home, and as I winched myself up Shire Oak Hill at Sandhills, I looked back at the Friday rush hour traffic rolling up the hill.
Dusk was falling, it was cold and beauty was hard to find.
Some journeys are harder than others, even when homeward bound. I felt every inch of this one.
October 12th – Lower than a snake’s knees. I had a mountain of other work to do, the rain was pouring most of the day and the autumn blues were really biting. I couldn’t get it on to write, or get myself organised. It’s fair to say I was as miserable as sin.
I went out as dark fell early, and shot up the canal to Chasewater in heavy rain. I blasted through puddles and threw the bike round corners and inclines to try to get my mojo back. It worked, for a fashion.
I noticed at Newtown near the A5 that the anti-vehicle gate – swinging unlocked for the past 6 or 7 years – has been wired shut with barbed wire by someone. This is not good – folk in mobility scooters do come down here and the gates are supposed to be locked with RADAR keys. I’ve never really been sure what purpose this one serves, anyway, as it doesn’t prevent motorbike access from either of the adjacent bridges.
I’m a bit concerned about this.
October 23rd -This is a remarkably dry season, yet not many people – least of all the media – seem to be mentioning the fact, which is causing me some concern. Blithfield Reservoir, north of Rugeley, is only 50% full, and ponds, lakes and streams are drying to a trickle. As a cyclist is pains me, but we really do need a good spell of rain, otherwise we’re in for serious trouble.
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