Images

May 17th – I think this is a first for 365 days of biking. This is a photo of something that is no longer here.

This is a cellphone mast, located just off the A38 at Efflinch, near Barton under Needwood. Up until recently, there was a another transmission mast here with a very specific function: it broadcast a non-directional radio beacon for aircraft. The transmission was continual, incessant and could be picked up locally at the very end of the longwave band on a normal transistor radio; it broadcast the morse tones for the letters ‘LIC’ (for Lichfield) continuously in a mysterious, musical tone. I was transfixed by it as a kid, because I had no idea what it was.

If anyone back then had shown me a numbers station, my wee head would have exploded.

The station stopped transmitting in 2010 when the beacon was decommissioned, but I think the mast has only recently gone – I used to watch for it coming home along the A38. Cycling this way, often at dusk, I knew that from here, I was only an hour away from home.

When the relentless, inscrutable morse died, so did a tiny bit of my childhood.

Find out about the end of the LIC NDB beacon here.

May 16th – I’m out in the elements all year round, and from the darkening in Autumn, the loss of leaves and closing in, I long for the days when everything is lush and green again. The jacket summer lends improves just about any spot – for me, it’s not just the warm air, the sun on my face or the birdsong – it’s the emerald greens of a summer in full flush, of the flowering and blossom, and of the maturing and fruiting.

For the last 5 months, this view hasn’t been worth a light, really. But today, on the cusp of another season, the sounds, sights and scents make this a lovely spot.

This has to be my favourite time of year.

May 12th – That cheeky squirrel. I was cruising around the canal looking for the swan family – still nowhere to be found – on my way home from work. I stopped at the hazel thicket on the bend by the Watermead Eastate to answer a call. All the time I felt I was being watched. 

It seems Nutkin wants me to move along now, and not make a fuss….

Yet another example of why I’ll never make a wildlife photographer…

May 7th – A snatched picture combining two of the worst hazards in cycling. One is common, the other seems unique to a particular part of Darlaston. The loose grit – marbles – I’ve discussed at length here; wheel and traction stealing, highly polished grit, it washes down during rain and snow, and gathers in junction voids and gutters, waiting to snatch your bike from under you.

The unique hazard is metal clippings, swarf and shards, and this is Heath Road in Darlaston at it’s junction with Station Street. Around Darlaston Green, all the way down to the Walsall Road this problem slices tyres and causes punctures. Open tipper wagons and skip lorries corner here to get to the scrap yards up the road, and metal drops through their tailgates, shutterboards and  from unsheeted tops. The metal lies flat in the road, where it’s gradually sharpened by the traffic dragging it against the road. 

Automatic sweepers don’t pick it up because it’s so thin, but hit it with your tyres and you’ll quickly flat. It’s a pain in the arse. Look closely here and there’s sharp spikes, wire and razor-thin plates.

Look out for it; avoid the area if you can. In a place where one has to watch the traffic carefully, it’s another hazard to watch out for.

May 1st – I had thought I was alone on the pub terrace. However, an ominous crunch made me look down… and the patio was actually busy with slugs and snails, presumably energised by the damp after the previously dry days. 

I picked up the bike and carefully stepped around them. I always feel pangs of guilt when I hear that crunch. I have a soft spot for these fascinating, bizarre creatures. Hate to kill them.

May 1st – I had to pop out in the morning, but worked from home for most of the day – which was just as well, as the weather was wet and miserable. Going out to meet a couple of pals later in the evening, I found myself chaining my bike up in a pub beer garden. Once the preserve of summer afternoons and rare, balmy evenings, pub terraces, beer gardens and play area have changed subtly in recent years, becoming a haven for smokers. 

None here tonight, though, so the heaters on the parasol stayed untriggered. An odd, wet, otherworldly atmosphere pervaded the evening. 
Curious.

April 25th – A dreadful commuting day, really, and not a great one at work, if I’m honest. I returned home late afternoon in a rainstorm. The rain was warm, though, and what wind there was seemed to be behind me. Coming from central Walsall after picking up some shopping, I crossed the Arboretum Junction, and whilst waiting at the lights, noticed the surface water problem here was getting worse. In heavy rain, the asphalt here doesn’t seem to shed water, and a 3-4mm  covering develops over the entire junction. I’ve never seen any road do this before, and must be a peculiarity of the surfacing.

It’s bad enough of a bicycle. Feel sure someone is going to aquaplane across here one day…