Tag: snow

March 1st – Allegedly the first day of spring, but a better one insomuch as I was better prepared for the cold. I wrapped up better, and rode a more sensible bike. It was just as cold, with more persistent, more powdery snow – but on leaving work early, I did a loop of Brownhills before nightfall to enjoy the spectacle.

Enjoy it I did, although again, the wind and cold were punitive and pugilistic. The powder drifted in clouds like dust devils over canal ice and bone-dry roads. Snow depths went from nothing at all to 150mm. At 4:30pm it was already minus 5 degrees C. When my hair started to develop lumps of ice, I decided to go home.

I noted the gritting operation at the council depot was in full swing, and the grit barn looks very depleted. The coos up at Highfields Farm, Chasewater looked peaceful and unconcerned, and the fox I scared into woodland across the common near Watling Street was as usual for foxes in snow, apparently apologetic for his higher than usual visibility.

These have been remarkable days to be on a bike. They have been very hard, but I wouldn’t have missed them for the world.

It’ll be interesting to see what the weekend brings.

February 28th – The run home was no better. I got caught in a prolonged snowstorm, the wind was hard against me and the traffic was mad. 

Temperatures actually got as low as -8.5 degrees C. Despite good gloves and being wrapped up in many layers, it physically hurt to be out there.

It seemed to take forever, but when I finally reached the end of the journey, I was glad to get home.

February 28th – A day with two of the harshest commutes I’ve ever known – both sub zero, both punctuated by snowstorms and ferocious winds.

On the way to work, I followed the canal somewhat unusually for me, all the way down through Moxley, and on the way noted the dagger-like icicles on Scarborough Road Bridge in Pleck, and the hardiness of the animals I saw – mainly birdlife defying Dry Marland’s IC scale, but also a sad but stoical horse tethered by the Black Country Route. At least it had plenty of hay to eat, poor thing.

Snow squalls came and went, but during them, visibility was poor. I don’t think I’ve ever known commuting on a bike this hard. The winter as it moved on from Christmas has been bloody endless. 

Enough already.

February 27th – The coldest early evening commute I’ve known for a long time, I battled a vile headwind and sporadic black ice and made my way home carefully.

My ice tyres worked well, and the roads – like the Green Lane here at the Black Cock Bridge – have been very well gritted. But pavements, backroads and car parks were deadly and I made careful, slow progress.

It’ll be interesting to see how bad this gets.

February 27th – It was still bitingly cold, but the predicted heavy snows missed us, instead teasing me with light flurries at the same time as bright sunshine. The contrast was beautiful.

In Victoria Park in Darlaston, hungry pigeons flocked to me when I stopped, but it was so beautiful. Thankfully the roads were not too icy, but the cold and wind were unpleasant.

Worth it for the beauty, though.

February 11th – Finally, a decent ride out. But not without challenges – I’d set out of a day with a punishing Westerly to visit a farmer’s market at Buzzards Valley near Middleton. The day was bright, skies blue and my back was warmed by the sun.

I enjoyed the market, then called at Middleton Hall to photograph the birds on the feeding station, and caught an unexpected rat on cleanup duties. 

The day was steadily getting colder, and snow started to fall. Very small showers, but it was happening. 

I battled up a muddy canal to Fazeley, then returned up the old A5 over Hints – where I scoffed at the GPS app’s forecast for almost continual snow. Then it started.

The ride home – against a bastard wind forged on Satan’s back step and with periodically heavy, driving snow – was a real challenge. But I was glad to be out and in my favourite countryside again, which really is showing signs of spring, as the wallflowers at Bodymoor Heath were keen to point out.

I’m really not into Wyatt’s Old School House painted terracotta pink though. Preferred it white.

A great, but exhausting ride. Real four seasons in one day stuff.

February 6th – There I was, welcoming spring, and it looks like we’re in the coldest week of the winter so far.

Riding back to Brownhills it was cold and snowing lightly. I stopped on Anchor Bridge to record it, but you could barely tell. I don’t think this snow will amount to much, and it looks like warming up for the weekend, but I need to watch out for black ice in the morning.

Oh joy.

January 20th – Back on the Canon, the photos felt more… vital, or vibrant. Which is an odd thing to say about a bunch of images of a cold, wet, snowy and misty grey winter landscape. But they do.

It was lonely. And cold. And I think these images convey that fairly well…

December 20th – A day of horrid weather – wet snow and cold winds. I stayed indoors after an awful night’s sleep, waiting until dusk to dash out on a circuit of Brownhills, which I have to say, against expectations, I enjoyed.

I passed the Watermead Estate swan couple, preening and feeding in the snow. They seemed unconcerned by the cold, which I guess they don’t feel. But I wonder if it annoys them?

It’s almost like they don’t notice it. Birds are odd.

December 28th – A ride out in ice, after overnight light snow. I was still nursing a shoulder strain which made the ride slow and plodding, but it was very enjoyable in the clear light and snow-dusted countryside.

I went to Chasewater to practice ice skills in safety, and even had a go at the boardwalk on the north heath, which was enjoyable once I got over the fear.

Staffordshire looked wonderful and the run out via Shenstone, Wall, Canwell, Hints and Weeford was a joy.

Just hope this shoulder improves soon.