March 11th – Today, I zipped through Hall Green. I’ve been passing this store for probably five years or so now, and I hate to admit it but the name irrationally annoys me every time I see it – and I have no idea why. ‘Wine Lord’ – what does it mean? Is it a crap play on ‘Time Lord’? Is it not a pun? I have no idea. Like hair salons, off licenses now seem to be developing a trend for really daft, jokey names. This can’t end well.
As to Chicken Etc…
June 17th – At Spring Road station in Birmingham, I overheard to travellers discussing the white plates visible on the the edge of the opposite platform, down beside the track. They often baffle station users, and their usage is a bit obscure, really.
These are merely a datum survey marker for when the rails are replaced and the track relayed, which happens more often than one would imagine. Before the old track is moved, a surveyor uses a laser level or theodolite to measure the exact position of the rails, and their tilt angle if they have one. The rail height – plus any required offset – is set on the sliding knob, and is used as a datum for relaying new lines.
The legend proclaims this plate no 3; it’s 1105mm to the nearest rail, on the Up Main (UM) line. The cant (or tilt between the two rails to enable safer dynamic cornering of rolling stock) is 2mm.
The (just visible) +474 above the slider indicates that the level set is 474mm above the desired rail height (vertical offset) and a green knob says this is the level the rail should be at as it was designed, and may not currently be at that level. A red knob indicates the actual track position when the plate was installed.
Geometry like this is essential to rail engineers, who obsess over it. Maintaining correct geometry is of prime concern, prevents accidents and ensures trains fit under bridges, alongside platforms and don’t foul each other on bends.
You can often see these marker plates fixed to line side structures or electricity and signal masts.
February 27th – I hopped on a train whose first stop was Spring Road. This isn’t too far from where I go in Tyseley, and it means I cycle the backstreets of Hall Green suburbia. Here is the impressive, monolithic Aero Engine Controls factory. I believe this used to be part of the Lucas empire, but could be wrong. It’s a huge site and the 1930s offices and grand front entrance belie the optimism of the early days of flight in the interwar period.
It’s easy to think we don’t manufacture much in the UK anymore. We do; there’s loads going on. We just don’t talk about it, and sites like this stay hidden and relatively unknown.
October 11th – Working late in Tyseley, the service gets patchy after the evening peak. Leaving at about 8pm, I realised my nearest train was going from Spring Road, located on the road to Hall Green. Stoking it in, I made it with a couple of minutes to spare. Spring Road is desolate and isolated at night, and I didn’t like it much. It was drizzling lightly, I was tired, and glad to see the lights of the train…
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 