February 11th – Near Middleton and Drayton Basset, a Western Power Distribution survey helicopter was inspecting electricity lines. I’ve never seen this before, and feeling the draft from the rotors, watching the careful manoeuvres and skill of the pilot were fascinating.
How they never clipped the cables I’ll never know – but these crews must be top notch.
A real wonder on an otherwise quiet Sunday in rural Warwickshre…
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.
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 9th – I was in town past six, in the early darkness, and the light had that blue, luminescent quality to it you don’t often get. Wandering in town from supermarket to supermarket, the urbanity glowed beautifully.
The Canon really loves an urban electric evening, I have to say, and I still do love Walsall.
February 8th – Passing through Walsall and running some errands, I crossed Church Hill in a golden hour. Always a bit conflicted about the view from here these days – it’s obscured by tree growth now which is a bit of a shame, but the trees are lovely in summer.
A bit of a trim wouldn’t hurt I guess. All the better to se a town glowing in winter sun…
February 8th – I’ve not ridden through Little Aston Forge for ages – and this curious hairpin over the Footherley Brook on the plain between Stonnall and Little Aston hasn’t changed a bit.
The brook still flows noisily, and those cottages still sit at an oblique, alarming angle to the lane on a series of nail-biting bends around them and over the hump bridge.
This is aways a good spot for early spring flowers in the hedgerows of the copse-lined lane, and this evening didn’t disappoint – just as the light was dying, a beautiful patch of wild snowdrops to compliment a pretty decent sunset.
Must start coming this way more often again.
February 7th – A bitterly cold morning with temperatures recorded by the GPS as low as minus five degrees centigrade and a very harsh ride to the station.
There was a fair bit of black ice and concentration was intense.
My longed for spring would seem to be on hold a little, but hopefully the daffodils – now forming buds on the verge outside my destination in Telford- won’t be deterred.
February 6th – There I was, welcoming spring, and it looks like we’re in the coldest week of the winter so far.
Riding back to Brownhills it was cold and snowing lightly. I stopped on Anchor Bridge to record it, but you could barely tell. I don’t think this snow will amount to much, and it looks like warming up for the weekend, but I need to watch out for black ice in the morning.
Oh joy.
February 6th – I noticed this interesting steed in the usual customer bike shed in Telford today, a Nukeproof mountain bike. It’s interesting because it’s continuing the trend for almost fat bikes. An expensive steed, it’s fitted with some impressive components.
Fat bikes are in my opinion, preposterous; a bike designed for sand or gravel use, they have huge tyres and matching frame clearances, akin to motorbikes. I see the odd one bought by commuters, when used on normal roads with balloon-like knobbly tyres they must be really hard work. I see more on trails, where the riders look less ridiculous but still quite daft.
The almost fat bike is a bike with larger than normal tyre clearances and usually, larger tyres, but not as huge as a fat bike. They tend to have broader axles than normal, but conventional group sets in the drivetrain. This bike demonstrates that amply.
I can’t imagine this is much fun to commute on either – those rubbers will drag, and the gearing must be quite hard work with such a small chainring. I still can’t get used to drivetrains with front sprockets smaller than the rear. Fine in their place – the trail – but not on road.
I was troubled by the rather tight clearance between the fork brace and tyre tread: carry a solid object like a stout piece of branch up there and it’ll do some damage.
February 6th – On the corner of Gladstone and Station Street in the industrial backstreets of east Darlaston, a curious little bungalow cottage I’ve always wondered about.
Painted terracotta red with two tall chimneys, Victoria Cottage is an unusual house that doesn’t seem terribly large, but someone is awfully proud of. It has a plaque dating it to 1897, and it’s well cared for and the people who live here clearly love the place.
It looks almost like it was built as a project by someone, it’s such a curious shape. I’m sure there’s a bacstory here that must be fascinating.
Anyone know more?
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