#365daysofbiking The thinness of the air, and turning for home

31st December 2021 – It’s been a weird old Christmas. The weather has been the worst over the holiday period I’ve known in many years: Pretty much constant rain and drizzle for over a week.

The festive period is normally an opportunity for us to get out on some seriously nice rides – often in the lead up to Christmas, the traditional Christmas and Boxing Day rides, and there’s usually good fun to be had in the period up to and including new year.

But not this time. The ceaseless downpour has meant that although I’ve been cycling every day, it’s been for utility only; delivering presents or cards, seeing friends and relatives, going to the pub, getting shopping in or getting fresh air.

Every journey has been in waterproofs, and I’ve come back sodden. It’s not been nice.

But on New Year’s Eve, a day I usually hate, the rain stopped. The sun came out. But odder than that, it was warm. And I mean, really warm: 14 degrees. It was like spring out there.

I set off later than I’d planned with my young pal for a loop around the local area, as we had an errand to do in Lichfield, and another in Burntwood.

The riding was fast and easy: There was a strong wind, but frankly, it didn’t matter. Up over Stonnall, Thornes, and the backlanes into Shenstone – but as we neared the village on the hill, we realised something was different. The old, ruined thirteenth century church tower – a remnant of an older, nicer church before the gothic horror that stands today was born of Victorian hubris – was sheathed in plastic sheeting and scaffold. It seems to be undergoing renovation. This is interesting, as it’s been derelict for all of the 40 or more years I’ve been riding around here.

It seems that a group have got together, raised money and are renovating the tower to save it out of charity and community spirit. Yet again, communities pay for Church of England neglect, it seems. But the plan is good and seemingly very competent. Searching when we got home we found the tower has a website here which is pretty useful on history, but not on the future. For that, we found Lichfield Live had reported plans to add a viewing platform to the tower last March. To my surprise, these have been approved.

I do hope this will be open to the public periodically. I bet the view is incredible. I salute those undertaking this project – it’s remarkable. This has largely passed me by over the summer and is an indication of my failure to ride much that ways on last year. I must rectify the neglect.

Further on, we caught a fair sunset up at Chesterfield, between Shenstone and Wall – any sunset is a bonus right now. Pickle caught it well, as she did a somnambulant, subdued Lichfield. The bars seemed busy but the streets less so. As ever, the festive lights and night sky combined with the muted, orange street lighting to make a magic that Pickle was all too keen to capture.

Returning down the wonderful Chasetown High Street, Pickle noted that the Christmas lights were switched off, but it didn’t matter, as it’s always festive at night on the beautifully lit, inclined High Street. I don’t really know what it is about Chasetown, but it shares the phenomena with Walsall Wood. At night, it always seems much busier than it actually is, and has a lovely homely, soft glow to it.

As New Year’s Eve rides go, this has been the best for a few years. We both enjoyed the absence of rain, and the thin, clear air. Such a change from the last couple of weeks… But as we stood at Chasewater, with nothing but the sound of water lapping against the dam, we reflected on the year gone. It’s been hard. There have been times when I wondered if I’d ever do another long ride again. But there has also been great joy: Recovery, the longed for autumn long rides, the return to the outdoors, the sharing of moments like this.

So we turned for home feeling positive, and light with the optimism of a new riding year ahead. There will be winter yet, yes – but spring and the daffodils and cowslips. Long rides on the Moorlands and Peaks. Green on the trees and hedgerows. Summer days and cafe stops and ice cream, and even the odd pub garden. It’s all to come. It was impossible not to face the prospect with an open, happy heart.

Happy new year to you all.

Thank you too for all of your messages of support and encouragement over the last week. Dry Valleys summed it up when he said you cannot serve from an empty vessel. For a while, I was empty. But now… I am feeling somewhat replenished.

Thank you to the wonderful community that support me here.

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#365daysofbiking A break in the weather

May 23rd – Over to Lichfield for some essential shopping and the closed state of the city was expected, but dragged me down. There was only one thing to rectify the gloom: A return via the country lanes of Wall, Chesterfield and Hilton.

On Bullmoor Lane I was caught in the briefest of short, sharp and intense showers, and it passed as quickly as it arrived, leaving nothing but sightly damp lanes and a beautiful partial rainbow.

Summer is fantastic.

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#365daysofbiking Timeless

May 22nd – It’s been a week of wonderful views, that started very much on a downer, but the restorative power of sunshine and landscape really improved my mental and physical wellbeing.

Riding around Shenstone and Stonnall in a sunny, listless golden hour I crossed Footherly Brook as I have for many years using the hump-back bridge on Gravelly Lane.

Something about the light, atmosphere and my mental state combined, and I stood there transfixed for a good few minutes, just drinking in the atmosphere.

I have seen this view in rain, hail, snow, sunshine, dusk, dawn, noon and the dead of night. It remains, and always will be, utterly timeless to me.

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#365daysofbiking Solace in an unusual time

April 12th – And of course, the flowers continued to captivate me. Magnolia, various blossom, primroses, forget me nots, pieris (is that a flower? Don’t know) and green alkanet all entertained and gave me solace in this most unusual of rides.

You can stick the coronavirus where the sun really doesn’t shine but I can handle countryside to myself like this for as long as possible, please!

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#365daysofbiking Renewal

April 12th – Easter Sunday was so quiet as I slipped out on a changeable afternoon. Mindful of the exercise only diktat, I figured a ride around the backlanes to Little Hay and back would be acceptable.

I was shocked to note very few people about at all. I pretty much had the lanes to myself – and how beautiful they were.

The blossom, green shoots and beautiful skies made for a refreshing, rejuvenating ride that I thoroughly enjoyed.

I really do feel like I’m beginning to get that old spark back.

It’s been gone awhile, washed away in the rains of the winter, I think…

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#365daysofbiking Angels of the hedgerows

April 10th – Another working from home day – indeed, it was Good Friday, so I took off for an exercise ride at teatime. The lanes and tracks of Stonnall, Shenstone, Raikes and Hilton were warm and quiet. I saw the odd fellow cyclist, or runner. But mostly it was just me, the birds and the flowers.

The stunning yellow archangel is looking gorgeous at Footherley again this year – a relative of the nettle, I hadn’t noticed it for years, and then it seemed I couldn’t stop spotting it in places where I must have seen it before, but never noticed it.

The grape hyacinths – muscari – are also like little shocks of blue in the hedgerows and gardens I slid past.

We may be locked down, but the riding is surprisingly good at the moment.

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#365daysofbiking Currant affairs

March 17th – Unable to process the current madness as regards pandemics and panic buying, I find my daily reassurance in the emergence of spring.

At Shenstone, the currant blossom is pink and fulsome once more.

A sadly short-lived bloom, it’s a real harbinger of warmer days to come.

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#365daysofbiking Taking a toll

December 22nd – I’ve not been riding back from Shenstone or Lichfield much this winter, and the backlands are not the familiar haunts they were, so it was a shock to me on Bullmoor Lane and Cranebrook Lane that they were flooded, breaking up or deep in mud in quite a few places.

Going was tough and wet.

When this weather breaks there’s going to need to be a lot of cleaning and investment to fix the roads.

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#365daysofbiking The villages of the evening

December 7th – Christmas is starting to ramp up now and I find myself increasingly on errands and trips to sort things out for the upcoming holiday, and so it was this evening when I had to visit Shenstone, to collect some stuff I’d ordered and check out a present in the huge, soulless garden centre there.

Shenstone and the lanes between there and home were gorgeous in the night, same as they ever were: From the welcoming dignity of the pubs to the beauty of the old workhouse. And then, the gothic horror of the church, which I’m still not used to seeing without it’s massive, stately yew.

It was nice to be in these lanes on a relatively dry night for a change. They made a pleasant contrast to the consumer hell of a garden centre that seemed to specialise in everything except … gardening.

Am I turning into The Grinch? I think I might be.

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#365daysofbiking Early arrivals


September 12h – The harbingers of autumn come in many forms, but few more pristine and beautiful than a freshly cracked open conker husk.

I found these windfalls on my way home from Shenstone – still a little unripe  but nearly there – lying in the road. Like most men, I’m indelibly programmed to pick up a stray conker wherever I see it.

And when they’re beautiful like these, that’s not hard.

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