Tag: wet

#365daysofbiking Sucked under:

October 2nd – The Suck is brutal this year. The dark evening commutes are hard and the driving is bad. But today was unexpected, unforecast drizzle all the way, and with no waterproof trousers, I was soaked and miserable.

This is the hard bit of winter. Dark, wet and cold, it’s going to get a lot worse before it begins to improve.

Every year this gets more and more daunting.

#365daysofbiking Welcome to The Suck:

September 20th – It started with a bang: The Suck, the gradually darkening, menacing and psychologically hard commuting journeys from now until Christmas began today with a twilight, torrential rain soaked journey from Darlaston to home. 

Drenched in spray, nearly left hooked twice, perpetually on guard for bad driving this was the worst journey I’ve had in years.

At one point I just stopped and took refuge in a bus shelter to calm down. The sheer hard work of concentrating and being aware enough to survive in this conditions is a gargantuan effort.

But I made it home, and as I once again get used to this, it’ll be less of a trial.

Winter sucks you down.

#365daysofbiking It’s because I’m a fun guy:

September 11th  – Riding down a post-rain Goscote cycleway, the edges of the trail were dotted with mushrooms and toadstools, I’m fairly but not absolutely sure of the identity of the large, spotted specimens: I think they’re blushers but could, at a pinch, be shaggy parasols. I welcome further views on that.

The field mushrooms were copious, and I got out my cotton bag and plugged about 2lb of them, which made a lovely accompaniment to my evening meal.

#365daysofbiking All misty wet with rain:

September 4th – A very wet commuteto work along the Goscote Cylceway on NCN 5 was actually far better than I would have expected, as the rain on on the hedgerows and berries lit them up and made them precious.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hawthorn harvest this heavy – from a distance the hedgerows and trees appear red.

Not a bad ride, despite the weather.

August 25th – A good deed for the day. Heading out, I noticed for the second time this year, a pwood pigeon downed in the canal near Ogley Hay. 

I was unaware wood pigeons couldn’t swim until I found one in the canal near Oldbury in the summer – they float, but just drift and will clearly drown before long. I rescued that one, but it was difficult as I had nothing to get it close enough to grab from the water. In response to that I now carry a length of thin rope which I held both ends of and tossed the loop over and beyond the stuck bird.

Gently pulling it to the bank, I took the pigeon from the water, and popped him under the hedge to dry out, poor thing.

Funny how I’ve never seen this before and find two within a few months.

August 18th – Up at Chasewater, watching the wakeboarder practice is always a great way to spend some time, and also a good test of photography skills.

This chap was trying out some pretty acrobatic stuff and was clearly honing his skills and learning.

I looks really impressive and I bet it’s fun, but rather them than me. I’ll stick to my bike, thanks!

April 13th – I rode to work in steady rain heavy hearted. It’s not often I say this but the morning had no redeeming features I could find; it was wet, cold and very, very unlike spring. 2013 was a pretty bad spring, starting very late with heavy snows in the dying days of March like this one. But at least the sun came out and things dramatically improved. 2018 has tested even my usually stoical resolve, I must say.

Rolling through Kings Hill on an errand mid morning, everything was headache-grey – the roads, the buildings, the sky.

It’s rare I feel so bleak about the weather.

March 30th – A day of rest, with a journey up to Tesco in the late afternoon. The rain seems to be settled upon us for the weekend, which is a bit of a blow, but the forecast clearly isn’t as bad as many had predicted with a return to snow and ice.

I guess I should stop moaning, really; at this time in 2013 there was still lying snow around and it was very cold. And we are more prone to white eEasters than white Christmases in this country. But it feels like I’m missing out.

In Brownhills, the waterfowl didn’t seem to mind. One swan partner of the nesting pair just up around the bend was idling, and came over, hoping for food, and was grumpy when none was forthcoming. The Canada geese, however, were just loafing, and paid me little heed. We stood for a while together, just listening to the rain on the water.

There had better be a decent summer after this…