Tag: winter

January 20th – I’ve been hoping for a decent fall of snow – not just to try my tyres out properly, but just for the novelty of it. Sadly, it seems I’m not in luck just yet.

As I left work, it was snowing quite well; the rate ebbed and flowed during the ride, and conditions got steadily harsher as I neared the high ground on my way back to Brownhills. 

On the canal, I realised the snow was settling well – not only on the path, but on the ice surface of the frozen water. 

Sadly, by the time I got in, the snow had eased off, and didn’t amount to anything much that evening.

Oh well, better luck next time.

January 20th – Another gorgeous but brittle cold morning commute. The ice and a very, very light dusting of snow were evident on the canal as I cycled up to Bentley Bridge, but the canal itself looked superb in the hazy sun.

Further on, the mystic curved bridge at Victoria Park looked stunning, too. In recent winters, we haven’t had many days like this. This year is really making up for the deficit.

January 19th – A cold commute on a sunny morning, and lots of little delights; the mist off the canal, wildlife and plumes of steam and smoke drifting in mercifully still air. On Green Lane, Walsall Wood, road spray from the pooling water there had coated the adjacent hawthorn hedge and encased it in ice.

Beautiful and haunting.

January 16th – A day in Droitwich for a change. Cold, hard and clear, I set out before sunrise, and returned as night fell. 

I like Droitwich, particularly the railway station, which has a very sleepy, rural feel to it, despite being quite busy – I think part of the charm lies in the old-style mechanical signals that are still in use here.

The town itself is pleasant, and in places quite hilly with makes for interesting cycling.

It was a hard day’s work and I was glad to finish and that it was Friday, but not a bad end to the week, all in all.

January 12th – I had stuff to do in Burntwood at lunchtime, and returned late afternoon via Chasetown High Street. It was a squally, warm but rather wet day, and not a good one to be out; but once again I was reminded of just how busy Chasetown looks even at quiet times.

Chastown is not bigger, or particularly more economically vibrant than Brownhills; but the High Street here retained most of it’s original buildings, and the ratio of business premises to to dwellings at street level is about 50:50, which always makes the place look more occupied and buzzing than it really is.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – a mix of retail, leisure and dwellings like this could well be the saviour of many dying High Streets – it makes them more welcoming by day, and after dark when the lights and reassuring presence of others makes the place seem warmer and less desolate.

Something to ponder on…

January 10th – On the way out, I caught a golden sunset over a very choppy Chasewater. It was the sort of metallic, harsh light that’s beautiful and only happens on windy, cold deep winter days. 

On the way back, it was cold, and as I crossed the footbridge over the Chasetown Bypass, I was reminded of how beautiful nightfall was here. The distant, windy sweep of cars beneath my feet; countless lights stretching into the distance; the lights of Sutton Coldfield transmitter on the horizon, a constant, stable, reassuring reminder of the endless continuity of day-to-day life.

A beautiful but cold day to be out.

January 6th – An early, grey commute was brightened by something I’d never seen before, a heron in Jockey Meadows. A fair way from the canal or Ryders Mere, it must either have been resting or hunting in the water meadows here.

The photos are awful, and very long distance, but I’ve never seen a heron here before.

It set me up for the day.

January 5th – A fiddly maintenance job this evening. Studded ice tyres currently fitted to my bike have small, very hard carbide studs in them to grip black ice. They sit in pockets in the tyre tread, and on the back in particular, if you skid on tarmac or brake very hard, they rip out.

Once I’ve lost ten or so, I delve into the spares box and whip out a small bag containing replacement studs, supplied by Schwalbe, the tyre manufacturer. 

By deflating the tyre and pinching the cavity, with pliers one can pop fresh studs in, using a drop of washing up liquid as a lubricant. Fiddly at first, once you’ve got the hang, it’s easy to do.

It may sound overzealous, but for the want of a couple of studs, you could slide. A stitch in time, and all that…

December 30th – I had loads of local stuff to do today, and very little time. Plus, I was having a bad day with everything failing, so I felt it probably wasn’t best to be out in difficult conditions. 

The feeling was compounded by a couple of intemperate drivers who hooted at my very existence.

The sunset was nice though, from Pelsall Road to Chasewater, it was gorgeous through all it’s phases; these are good winter sundowns right now. 

Sadly, the weather is to warm op over the next couple of days, so I think this is probably the last decent one until the weekend. But what a corker.

December 29th – The return was no less magical, but very challenging. I was mentally and physically exhausted when I got home. I’ve never seen black ice this bad, and by the time night fell, it was very challenging riding indeed on all but the main routes. It was good though, to see the sunset reflected in the snowy pink-white landscape, and my old muse Rugeley Power Station was clearly at full tilt.

The mist rolling off the Trent at Wolseley Bridge was enchanting, too, but I saw too many cars slid off the lanes around Longdon to feel comfortable on the roads, despite the ice tyres.

I was glad to get home, but glad to have seen this, to have experienced it and to feel that pain in my forehead and the icy grip on my chest.

It’s not often one feels so connected to the environment.