Tag: temperature

March 4th – The thing about an inversion is it’s transient. This one came and went in about 15 minutes, and it’s ever changing. As it drifted away, it left clear skies, a very noisy gull roost and beautiful colour.

Even the coos looked impressive with their clouds of steam

That’s how you fix a bad mood, and that is exactly why I ride a bike.

March 4th – I was going stir crazy. A bad day – the internet was getting me down, the thaw had set in and the world outside had the slimy, grey, filthy wet feel you only get with melting, heavy snow.

I slipped out on an errand at sunset and something magical happened. I caught a surface-air temperature inversion. I saw it start on The Parade in Brownhills, as it was gathering over the common. I raced to Chasewater. It was stunning.

An inversion occurs when the ground is colder than the air above and mist forms is very low, isolated pockets. I’ve not seen on this strong since I was a kid. Mist drifted around and almost deserted Chasewater, and I was in the middle of it, like a kid in a sweet shop.

March 21st – Gosh, it was cold this morning. After the warmth of the last week or so, riding out in the early morning in a wind air air temperature just above freezing was a real shock. Just as well, then, that the day was gorgeous with bright sun and blue skies.

The change in temperature hasn’t bothered the trees at all – they’re bursting into life. fresh new green leaves appearing, more every day.

I feel the gladness in my heart that only spring can bring – whatever the temperature!

November 22nd – Despite a bit of a slow ride back up the Chester Road (though powering down into Brownhills from the crossroads is always a joy) a couple of things stood out as I glanced at the computer at the lights at Shire Oak. The first was it felt warmer than it had for a while, and secondly the sunset was now coming up to 4pm.

The temperature though, was not even 4 degrees celsius, which means I must be getting used to the cold again, something I’ve had trouble with this year. I also noted that the elevation was horribly inaccurate – at least 70m out. Normally fairly accurate, the elevation was automatically calibrated when I set out in the morning, and is based on air pressure, so it shows that during the day, atmospheric pressure rose.

Perhaps we’re in for better weather. I do hope so.

November 1st – It’s coming on winter. That was cold, and a shock to the system, for sure.

Now commuting in both directions mostly in darkness, the cold and the nights are drawing in. Already seeing evidence of the communal madness that commences with the darkness every year, this run up to Christmas is my least favourite time to be on the road on a bike.

Stay safe everyone, and wrap up warm – it’s getting chilly out there.

January 13th – Now, this is winter at last. Riding homeward at 6pm, the air temperature according to the ride computer was -2.4 degrees C. It felt it too.

That morning had shown a light, wet dusting of snow, and it half-heartedly snowed during the late evening, too.

I’d like a bit of snow, or some good hard frosts.Come on then, weather… show us what you’re made of.

July 2nd – I cycled home in steady, warm rain – but the temperature had dropped like a stone. Coming out of work where the temperature indoors was still 35 degrees, stepping into the cold, fresh air was like entering a plunge pool.

The air smelled fresh though, and although the traffic was mad the ride was fast and fun. Hopping on to the canal at the Black Cock and over to Ogley Junction, a light mist was rising off the canal surface, indicating a surface-air inversion was on. Just as I got to Catshill, the rain ceased, and the sun started to come out.

Although it was dull, the greens – now entering the mature, darker stage – looked magnificent. But the panorama from Catshill Bridge: they seem to be taking forever to complete those flats. 

October 10th – As I cycled down Green Lane past Jockey Meadows, my sight was snagged by something luminous. I pulled on the anchors and doubled back. An inversion was occurring over the water meadow, and it was beautiful.

An inversion occurs when a layer of colder air in contact with the ground is trapped by warmer air above it, when normally, the reverse occurs. This traps mist in a low blanket in the cooler layer.

A full-on inversion is a sight to behold; mist streams off the surface of any water and clings low to the ground. I’ve not seen a good one for a long while, and this was minor, and seemed localised. But it gave a wonderfully haunting aura to a familiar spot.

Hopefully, we may get more soon, and this is the warmup act…