Tag: wet

February 14th – What an awful day.I battled into Walsall against an evil headwind. I had a hospital appointment that took forever, and when I came out there was heavy rain.

I arrived at work soaked and grumpy.

The way home was just as rain-soaked, but at least the wind was assisting me.

Cycling at the moment is a real challenge. I can see spring. I can taste it. It’s in the light, the flowers, the landscape. But this bad weather seems endless.

I will of course hang in there. But my goodness, this is hard going.

February 10th – An evening spin out turned out to be warmer than expected, but rain seemed to be threatening. The canal and towpaths were sodden, and  the paths and roads glistened in the headlight.

The flats on the Watermead, next to Coopers Bridge look lovely in the dark, the lights reflecting beautifully in the water, as did those of Tesco, itself looking unexpectedly attractive.

Either that, or I’ve been hemmed in too long…

February 3rd – A day without rain would be nice. So nice.

It rained all day, and I barely left the house; I had technical difficulties with some work equipment that kept me busy on a fool’s errand most of the afternoon, before it turned out the problem was not mine at all.

I got nothing done. I felt low and troubled and realised that although physically better, I’m still recovering and have the post-illness blues. I’m sure you know how it goes – you still have some climbing to do and the daily grind hasn’t stopped for you to hop back on and catch up.

I had to nip up Walsall Wood in the early evening on an errand. I got wet, it was cold and I felt every pedal stroke.

I know everything will improve, and I’ll slip back into the daily rhythm soon. But right now I feel spare and down.

January 23rd – Tuesday. The cold is easing but my average speed is still lamentable. I’m feeling better, but still not well and the weather is… Challenging.

Returning from Birmingham in the 5pm dusk, at least New Street Station gave me some welcome late night feelings.

I’m improving. But a return to health and optimism can’t come soon enough.

January 5th – First day back at work in 2018 – more working weeks should start and end on a Friday.

I enjoyed the ride to Darlaston, I’d missed the daily commute, and the shoulder seemed OK with it. I also popped through Kings Hill Park and noticed something.

Jack in the Green has tapped the ground with his cane, and called the snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils on.

Roll on spring. 

December 25th – As I returned towards Brownhills the rain got heavier and heavier. My waterproofs were working well, but it was cold, I couldn’t see due to the rain in my face and everywhere was sodden.

But if felt like the best ride I’d had for ages.

Something about the harsh weather, darkness and wind mingled, and made me feel alive.

December 25th – Happy Christmas. My goodness, that was a long time coming…

I was away in daylight at a family do and didn’t get chance for the traditional Christmas Day Ride; this wasn’t really to bad as my shoulder was still stiff and the weather was wolfish and blustery.

I returned in the evening, and went for a spin in heavy rain. I don’t know why, perhaps it was a reaction to the enforced socialising, but I had on waterproofs and just rode for all I was worth; out via Ogley Hay, up Chasetown High Street, over to Sankey’s Corner, back over Chasewater and up the canal back to Brownhills via Catshill Junction.

Obviously, the photography opportunities were not copious, but I thought the lights of the Sankeys Corner Christmas tree in aid of Stephen Sutton were beautiful in the wet night.

December 2nd – Again passing through the Wood, this time to Screwfix, it was a grim, miserable, drizzly dank day – but at least it was much, much warmer than in previous days.

The ice was melting, and some of the less religiously inclined types were relishing their fast diminishing ability to walk on water…

November 7th – I made a terrible decision to nip out mid morning on an call to the Solicitor. While I was there, the rain started, and returning to Darlaston in very heavy rain, I slipped onto the canal for respite from the traffic.

I sheltered under a bridge for a while, listening to the music of the rain on water, before realising the futility of it, cried Geronimo! And dashed for work, scattering the otherwise contented geese in my wake.

‘Did the big girls push you in the cut again, Bob?’ was the piss-taking call that greeted me on my return, drenched…

November 5th – It was very cold compared to recent weeks (although merely normal for the time of year) and overnight rain had drenched the landscape. But the light was good, the sun was out so nothing for it but to head up to Cannock Chase.

The forest is at it’s absolute best right now. Get your boots on and get up there, people.