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 25th – There’s cold weather coming in, and on this splendid day, there was a razor-sharp edge to the harsh east wind that made the journey to the cake stop at Hints hard work, made worse by the fact they mithered about serving me 40 minutes before closing time.
Customers are such a pain in the arse.
The cake and day however, were beautiful, as was the countryside. I saw my first full size daffodils of the year on the old A5 at Hints, and lots of plants are clearly waiting for the warmth to come and spring will be on her throne.
February 23rd – The mist had mostly cleared, but it was still very cold, and once more I found myself cycling back from Shentstone to Stonnall is the curious, netherworld twilight that’s neither day nor night that you get at this time of year.
I the cold and against a pretty sharp wind, the lights of the cottages and houses I passed were like soothing beacons in the gloom.
Passing through lower Stonnall my mind wandered to how many barn conversions and adapted houses there are here now: When I was a kid, they were working farms.
Such change.
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.
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.
October 21st – A blustery, showery day, so I restricted myself to a short ride around the patch, washing through the leaves shaken free by the storm. At the new pond at Clayhanger, I noticed a healthy, beautiful holly bush with a dense crop of berries growing in the marsh at the back of the pool. That’s a sign Christmas is coming, for sure.
Autumn has been strange this year. It’s like we fell out of summer with a bump and kept bouncing off winter with no transition…
September 10th – A miserable, wet and grey day with high winds kept me hemmed in until late afternoon, when despite being caught by a couple of heavy squalls, the skies cleared and the sun came out for a while.
I contented myself with a loop of Brownhills and Chasewater and explored some things I’d been meaning to check out for a while, and it wasn’t a bad, but chilly and damp ride.
Some of the views – when the sun caught the spray and the rain sparkled in the light – were gorgeous.
It seems the Indian summer I was hoper for is not to be this year.
June 6th – I had a remarkable journey home, assisted by a big west wind, that blew me back in 45 minutes at an astonishing average of 16mph. I was also remarkable dry, catching only the briefest edge of a squall at Shelfield.
The remarkably local rainfall was illustrated well as I came down Green Lane, where everything was sodden, but the sky was clearing.
A remarkably luck commute – in total contrast to the morning.
You win some, you lose some…
June 6th – A truly awful morning commute with 30mph headwinds and driving rain made for a squally, wolfish day; but in the afternoon the constant rain broke to showers, and I went about getting some stuff done in the Black Country. Returning home from Tipton, I headed for Wednesbury from Ocker Hill and caught my favourite twin sisters – the churches that crown Church Hill in Wednesbury – is sunlight but with threatening skies.
I love this place. Even in bad weather. It’s where my heart is.
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