April 4th – Returning from Birmingham, into a downpour that was totally expected at Shenstone. An hour I waited in the cold just for a cessation in the rain, as there was a headwind and I had no waterproof trousers.
At least I got some work done. Thanks to the mobile internet…
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June 16th – Always nice to meet a hog going about it’s business and this lovely one was near the Fullelove Memorial Shelter at the foot of Brownhills Parade.
Healthy and very large, it was far too busy to pass the time of day and scuffled off into the night and away from my attention.
Uplifting.
May 6th – Riding back through Haunton to Whittington via Elford, I passed the derelict Royal Observer Corps bunker post at the top of Willow Bottom Lane, just in the corner of the field.
Someone has made a half-hearted attempt to lock it again: It won’t stay locked for long, it never does.
This underground nuclear bunker was intended to house 3 volunteers in the event of nuclear war; they would monitor damage after a blast, and report back on conditions if possible. Their monitoring was on a crude ‘If we survive’ basis, and this bit of Cold War history is obscure and grim.
Since being stood down in the early 90s, these posts – hundreds over the whole country – have been discovered, raided, trashed, demolished and sold; few survive intact and this one itself has been burned out.
But it remains, a grim memorial to a very paranoid time.
November 7th – I made a terrible decision to nip out mid morning on an call to the Solicitor. While I was there, the rain started, and returning to Darlaston in very heavy rain, I slipped onto the canal for respite from the traffic.
I sheltered under a bridge for a while, listening to the music of the rain on water, before realising the futility of it, cried Geronimo! And dashed for work, scattering the otherwise contented geese in my wake.
‘Did the big girls push you in the cut again, Bob?’ was the piss-taking call that greeted me on my return, drenched…
September 24th – Nice to see the refurbished Fullelove Memorial Shelter back in public use at the Parade in Brownhills. Often mistaken for a bus stop, the shelter was erected by Brownhills Urban District Council for the old folks in memory of George Fullelove, the great chorister and choirmaster of Brownhills.
This hexagonal, elegant brick structure has provided a place to shoot the breeze, hide from the rain, or enjoy an illicit fag for generations, yet I bet few know why it’s actually there.
A lovely thing, well restored and congratulations to the Brownhills Local Committee and the Friends of Brownhills Common who achieved it.
August 6th – A better day spent mainly at home getting domestic things done, and resting, which is what I needed more than anything. I left for a ride late on a freshly tuned, clean, unladen bike and had forgotten just how lively and fun my bike is to throw around in such a state. I rocketed around the common and Chasewater and felt better, and liberated. I only had to go a few weeks. And I could get more stuff done. This isn’t all bad.
Talking of getting stuff done, I noted that the Fullelove Memorial Shelter at the bottom of The Parade is being well renovated. Built in memoriam to the great Brownhillian choral singer George Fullelove, I believe the shelter was built after his passing for the elderly to sit and watch the world go by. Over the years I’ve seen much time there, like many a Brownhills lad: sheltering, dossing, socialising or having an illicit fag.
Like most people, until I was older I had no idea of the purpose of this hexagonal, elegant structure as no plaque records it’s purpose, but it is a fitting tribute, and also to Brownhills Local Committee and Doug Birch who have pushed for the renovation.
Thanks. This is a real piece of Brownhills history, your efforts are appreciated.
June 12th – Washed out.
I didn’t think rain was in store for today; I awoke to the sound of it, and it continued until early afternoon. I needed to collect something from Cannock Chase, so sensing a break in the weather, I went for it.
I got soaked.
I took shelter in Birches Valley, and watched the torrential rain until it stopped. I was there an hour. Very little of the standing water was there when I arrived.
As soon as the skies lightened I was off. No unpleasant particularly, but wet and uncomfortable, these are the only photos I took.
Some days are just a challenge.
April 1st – it’s fitting to note that today, April 1st 2016, April Fools Day is the 5th anniversary of this journal. Apart from the two infamous days of food poisoning over New Year 2011/12 when I was slain by a rogue pie, I have ridden every day, rain, sun, snow or shine. Every day I’ve got on my bike and gone somewhere – for a ride for pleasure, on errands, to work. That’s 1825 days of cycling, and 4 years and 3 months of that on every single consecutive day.
I must be mad. Or really love cycling. One of the two. Or both.
Today, I found myself riding through Stonnall, and noticed the lovely daffodils around the village bus stop. Wonder what the bunting around the shelter is for?
Thanks for being with me and riding along. If you’re sick of it and think I should stop, or want to shout encouragement, feel free. I’ve really enjoyed the past five years.
September 2nd – Like most people, I’m holding out for an Indian summer, but as I made my way home on Wednesday, it seemed the chance was slim. Caught by two very localised, heavy downpours, I was soaked by the second after having escaped the first by stating it out in an archway in Pleck.
It’s gone cold, too. Summer, come back!
December 29th – I saw her in the usual place, near Penkridge Bank – an elderly, lone fallow doe. Split from her herd, she was clearly in good health and not troubled, just sheltering in a patch of scrub. Oddly, she was the only deer I saw that day, but it was good to see her.
People seem to get overly concerned about deer this weather, but this really is the kind of winter they’re built for. They’ll be fine.
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