Tag: snow

January 23rd – The little camera seems to really struggle with light on snowy nights. I’m not enough of a photographer to make it work quite the way I want. But these two shots show something. When I was banging on about gritting a couple of days ago, I was unaware of what a wide and generally welcome reception the piece would get. A good demonstration of my point – that road salt isn’t the magic solution folk think it is – is illustrated in the upper photo, taken at Shelfield lights. I’d been passed by gritters here several times the previous week. With the lack of rain, the brine strength on the road surface must be very high, yet the triangle of slush in the foreground remains. The reason is because the salt isn’t ground in that part by passing traffic, so although it’s been coated in salt numerous times, because there’s no meltwater, the ice remains. There’s a similar band of virgin snow on the centre of the Chester Road that’s been there since last Friday. it must get coated in grit nearly every day.

Returning via Green Lane, I was interested in how the snow lit up the normally dark, wooded road. This road was very clear, and as I came through, a grittier came past in a shower of sharp crystals. In some respects, this road was clearer that the Lichfield Road, and I struggled to understand why. Then I realised – this is a low point. What meltwater does exist, gathers in this lowland. That lane must be like a brine bath.

Must remember to regrease the wheel bearings when the weather warms up… the bike will need to be washed well, too. All this salt will be eating the metalwork…

January 23rd – I think this is the worst cold snap I’ve known since the early 80s. Have to say, I’m loving it; the snow remains to some depth, even in the city, and I like the way it paints everything a new shade of different. As I arrived in Tyseley, it was snowing very heavily. For a few minutes, I stood on the platform in silence, just listening to the gentle susurration of large snowflakes hitting the canopy above my head. Magical.

The temptation this week has been not to go to the station at all, but just to cycle past it and explore, off into white…

January 21st – I remain fascinated by the railway, and the snow has given it a new slant. I’m no trainspotter, and couldn’t give a toss for the operations, or the trains, or anything like that. What I like is the scale, the idea of connection, or a big, unified machine snaking from place to place. Today, I thought about the thousands of mechanical points across the country, working in very cold, wet conditions. The electrical overhead wiring, the signals, the track. The buildings. How it all survives and still (mostly) operates in the worst of the UK weather.

It really is quite remarkable when you think about it.

January 21st – I was expecting traffic chaos, so I left it until late to leave for work. As it was, I needn’t have bothered, as the schools were closed, and the traffic was light. The trains weren’t too bad, either, and the only bad aspect of the commute was the atrocious state of Mill Lane at Mill Green. It’s only a backlane, but I thought it would be OK; however, the snow had compacted, then started to break up and it was like riding on slippery shingle, even with the studded tyres.

Stonnall, Grove Hill and Castlehill looked beautiful in the snow. It’ll be interesting to see how we cope as the cold snap, predicted to last at least a week, begins to bite. After all, it’s not got too cold yet…

January 20th – Between 4 and 5pm, the roads around Brownhills were understandably, quite chewy. I span around Brownhills carefully, for fear of what lurked beneath the slush and tyre tracks. It had been snowing by then for nearly 10 hours, and the result was a wet, cloying mass that wedged in the bike’s gaps and made it heavier and heavier. The old railway line, Clayhanger Common trails and canal towpaths were very hard to cycle. 

It looks to be cold all week, and this will be the first time for some years that we have have to deal with such conditions.

I’ll be interested to watch what happens. 

January 18th – Cycling in the snow presents its own unique pitfalls, hazards and skills, and over the years, I’ve learned the best tricks I can. For cyclists out there considering cycling in the snow, there’s some stuff to watch out for. Beware speed humps, potholes and the edges of roads, which hide beneath the snow and take you by surprise. Watch out for the large lumps of compacted snow and ice that litter the busier roads; they drop off vehicles, and look soft and slushy, yet are usually rock hard. Try and ride in the centre of lanes where possible, and note that virgin snow is often easier to cycle through than mobile compacted ice in vehicle tracks. Beware of large chunks of solid ice that sweep from HGVs and vans – vehicles with tarpaulins are a particular hazard for that. Keep changing gear frequently, to prevent your cable from seizing, and use brakes as little as possible. Relax, and go where the bike takes you.

Since urine contains urea, a natural deicer, peeing on a gear mechanism or brake can free it and get you home.

Take it easy. Ice doesn’t forgive speed.

Riding in this weather is fun, but take care, and it’ll be really enjoyable.

January 18th – Hey, some real snow. The heaviest snows I can recall since the 1980s came today. It didn’t really start snowing heavily until I left the house for work. A long slog into the wind, and a battle to get to Tyseley, but it was fun, nonetheless. When I got to my destination, two hours later, I found they were closing in less than an hour. Never mind, I picked up some stuff, and cycled back into Birmingham, weaving through the gridlocked traffic of Sparkbrook, Camp Hill and Digbeth. Catching a train back to Blake Street, I wrapped up warm and went for a ride around the backlanes to Footherley, Shenstone and Chesterfield. A great ride, in the most dramatic, stunning weather. You can’t beat riding in freshly fallen snow. Coupled with the sensory overload of sight, sound and touch, there’s nothing like it.

January 17th – It was snowing quite hard when I came home. Racing another cyclist out of Walsall in that unspoken duel that often happens between two homeward-bound cyclists, we played cat and mouse along the Lichfield Road. Sadly, my younger, fitter counterpart was carrying less stuff (including less middle-aged spread!) and just outclassed me. But he set a cracking pace and I was heading home in good time. At Anchor Bridge, I stopped to admire the snow on the frozen canal. It was settling quite well now. Weather-heads are predicting heavy snow tomorrow, and the world’s going bonkers again…

We’ll see.

January 17th – If you’re bored of the winter pictures, it could be a rather long week ahead, sorry. I love them, and intend to bore you with loads.

It was dry and cold when I left home this morning, and the humidity had dropped, so the mist was lighter, but ice still crusted the surface of my gloves and eyebrows as I rolled into the station. Diving off the Chester Road at Wood Lane, I decided to chance my arm at Little Aston Forge, where the sheet ice had been. The sheet ice was still there, but I just glided down the powder-dusted lanes. I adore this weather – possibly not as much as a sunny day in high summer, but I relish the stark drama, and the knowledge that in 80 days of so this will be greening again once more. That’s what’s great about England: extremes.