2020 Commute 20 of 52 (To): Wonders of the Waterways

9.6 miles.  Least populated run so far.

We had tickets for a lecture on Canals tonight.  Oh well, I’ve never really been bothered by the theoretical vs practical dichotomy; today, I ran into work and documented three more Birmingham Main Line features . . . gauging stations:

The idea is that the stations are set at points where tolls are taken.  Calibrated plates on the barge define a draft and the height of these plates above or below a meter at the station tells you how heavy a load your barge carries.  The toll is charged based on this tonnage.  Ingenious.

Today, I passed three of these before hitting the City centre.

Just after the centre, these two gates — not exactly locks — sit at the Granville Street Bridge.  Dunno what their purpose is, though.  If only there was an expert in the history of the canals to consult….

Walsall Canal between Greets Green and Pudding Green

To connect the segments already done yesterday and Thursday (and to reequilibrate my blood sugar post-record-night), I made today’s run a loop that included some more of the Walsall Canal.  Pretty and interesting but devoid of humanity it reminds me of dates I went on all to frequently in my youth.  It was also covered in goose shit which describes some other aspects of those days gone by.  Made up the rest of the daily mileage by passing through the town and returning on the bike trail next the tramline.

 

 

Short segment of the Walsall Canal

 

There’s a bit of the Walsall Canal that we walked yesterday that stands between the segment I ran today and the long piece of the Brum canal I documented Thursday.  This one had 7 locks on its short length, so I’ve added that as a feature to the Canal Furniture map:

Met a dog walker, the first non-vehicle-clad soul up to that point, as I abandoned Greets Green Road and trotted under the Belper Bridge.

The canal branches shortly after this industrial footbridge.  There is an abutment for a long lost bridge at the junction (see also the first photo in this post looking back this way).

Pressed against the first lock of the flight, you go under the Ryders Green Road Bridge:

The locks are stacked on this section and pretty unremarkable (there are photos attached to each of the pushpins on the map); but, no. 5 merited some decoration for some reason:

I was on a mission to do some shopping at the Boots and Asda just beyond this bridge at (but not) Great Bridge.  The queues at both were enormous so I continued the loop back to the neighbourhood supermarket.

It was a much more civilised and much shorter queue (only about 30 people but with the distancing in place the line snaked around the car park):

Record Night 2020-03-28 thru 29

Sometime after the Pretenders Hits and Elvis Costello’s King of America things deteriorated into a proper Record Night.  Now with Bob finishing Blood on the Tracks and the woman now crawled off to bed–

side note conversation: “It is NOT record night!  Okay, maybe but what time is it?”

“It’s Covid 19 o’clock.”

“Alright, then, tonight we gonna party like it’s Covid 1999.”

Copious vodka and tonic after a couple of bottles of wine.  The hangover will be impressive but nothing like a brown booze effort.  11 miles planned tomorrow.  We’ll see. Gotta go, it’s my turn to bartend.

2020 Commute 19 of 52 (From): Bridges (and loads of photos)

Short Version: The run to or, like today, from work takes about 80 minutes and, even at my slow pace, this covers a lot of ground with a lot to see.  I also have a history of documenting this sort of map-able run (see the London Tube Project or the Outer Orbital Loop for examples).  This is a long post but mostly a photo essay and it lays the groundwork for shorter ones to build on it.

Fucking Long Version:

The now-twice-weekly (and brief) visit to the labs finished for the day, I headed home on the canals (9.6 miles).  The weather will shift over the weekend so I took advantage of the glorious sunshine to photo-document the bridges I am getting to know on this commute route.  This screenshot of the map of “Canal Furniture” is linked to the actual map that will expand over time; currently, it only has sections for graffiti and bridges on the canal path I ran today (and some other times) but I’ll add to those as I explore the network.

 

Today the start was at University Station:

Under Pritchatt’s Road:

And, Somerset Road:

The Birmingham Swifts (I miss those guys…now that evening daylight has returned AMD maybe when the plague is over…) make occasional loops into the Vale using this footbridge as the southernmost extent of the Thursday runs:

The Edgbaston Tunnel is next with its noisy footbridge running the length:

St James Road followed on after that:

Islington Row Middleway has an exit by Five Ways Station:

Bath Row has a notoriously slick surface on the wide path under it:

You will have noticed some graffiti along the way.  These next ones (here and here) turned up a couple weeks ago and I can’t decide if they are intentionally racist and if so then is it ironically:

The slot just beyond the Granville Street Bridge is a frequent entrance/exit for the Swifts Thursday runs:

The Mailbox is a snooty shopping area, now closed for the COVID-19 duration.  The steel footbridge to it shown here has BBC West Midlands in the background:

The canal turns to the left here.  There are some atmospheric and hugely overpriced pubs on the left (two cyclists are taking advantage of the otherwise COVID-19-abandoned benches at one of them by the bridge to the wharf where the first couple of Zomboat episodes took place).

Just past that, the canal tunnels under a house on Broad Street.  The bridge is known as the Black Sabbath Bridge:

The tunnel (above) and the signage for the BSB on the other side (below).  There’s a Brum Walk of Fame up there on Broad Street and a life size cut out of Ozzy and the boys on a bench.

In rapid succession, a footbridge to the Conference Centre:

Another, older one next to the Brewmaster’s House:

And, two at the Old Junction straddling the Malthouse heading to Arena Birmingham:

They’ve done a good job tarting the place up in this part of town but keeping — or, in some cases, remaining true to — original features.  Here is an old iron bridge between Brindley Place and the Arena, and it is tied to another crossing a branch of the canals looking back toward the aquarium:

Turning back to the path, the next bridge is where I cross over at LegoLand:

Sheepcote Street is next, and just past its arch on this side you find the Distillery

On the other side, the footbridge over the entrance to King Edward’s Wharf is modern but sympathetic:

St Vincent Street, next, can act as an exit to Ladywood or the Library:

Some old wharf entrances lead nowhere.  This one has been filled in and there is a car park under it.  The bridge remains.

Other wharfs still exist but the factories and loading docks have long since gone:

The little wharf bridge (above) can be seen in the shot of Monument Road Bridge (below).  The road is now called Ladywood Middleway and is a massive — if ugly — boulevard.  The Welcome to Brum graffito (from the top of this article) is under this bridge.

The daffodil bridge at the lower end of Rotton Park has featured in the commuter runs, previously:

A few dozen metres farther along, a bridge brackets the Rotton Park wastelands:

Almost directly across from this, I cross a canal loop entrance I ran back when we lived in Weoley Castle (and will re-run to add the bridges, there, sometime):

Just beyond that is the bridge where the Swifts Thursday runs that do this part of the canal crossover for the return trip:

A massive railway abutment sits in the midst of the canal.  This must have been a magnificent bridge, once:

Another renamed street crosses the canal using the 1825 Lee Bridge:

The Winson Green Bridge looks suited for heavy freight:

The ERK! tag is all along the canals (down below the University, even, where this photo dump started, if you remember back that far):

The Hospital Loop completes at this bridge by what I assume to be a tollmaster’s house:

That;s also the one you see the cyclists passing over in my direction of travel.  Beyond, the iron one ahead is called Turnover Bridge No. 3.

It dates to 1848 (one of the newer structures).

I had to look up ‘turnover bridge.’  Essentially, these exist where the towpath switches (or, historically, switched) sides.  The ramp on either side points the same direction so you don’t have to remove the towline from either the horse or the barge.

I cross an old service channel where, frequently, I encounter old junkies and drunks sleeping or partying many mornings:

Back on the other side, two entrances to the Cape Arm still exist:

A railway bridge that, among other routes, conveys between Birmingham and Wolverhampton sits up ahead.  Just before you get to that, there is a lot of interesting graffiti.  I previously posted the Pulp Fiction and Dr Fresh images and will add to these on this stretch in due course.

The fat unicorn and wizard squid of the What’s Kraken? Bridge (for lack of another name) also made it onto the current version of the graffiti map:

Seen looking back toward Brum, the factory on your left also has a long stretch of cartoon graffiti to document.

Art is even in the most bleakly industrial bits of the canals.  The Rabone Bridge has a ceramic plaque out in the middle of it:

 

As well as some more transient installations:

The canal splits — or rejoins depending on your direction of travel — at Smthwick Junction where two turnover bridges allow you to choose either side of either the higher canal or the lower one.  I continue down the lower one, today:

 

My path is off to the left:

Just off to the right, though, is another factory access bridge without a factory to access:

Bridge Street North crosses both branches of the canal.  I’m calling this one Bridge Street North Bridge (South):

One of the more impressive bridges is this aqueduct, the Engine Arm Aqueduct.

A beauty:

The canal approaching Brasshouse Lane is deceptively rural (on either side of the bridge, up top, it is decidedly urban):

The canal remains flat as the landscape climbs around you.  This tunnel is the longest subterranean stretch of the day:

It emerges at the Grade 1 listed Galton Bridge:

Obscuring the view of the magnificent structure is a still loverly railway bridge at Smethwick Galton Bridge Station:

The Spon Lane Bridge would also be stunning save for the plumbing hanging just under:

 

The next couple of freight bridges have gone derelict and are covered with vegetation.  The first one is also decorated with a sunburst mosaic on one side and a test pattern mosaic on t’other:

 

 

The next one dead-ends into a wall on the right and the rail line on the left:

It actually has a name (Hartley Bridge) marked on an abutment across the canal:

The next one is overshadowed by the M5 motorway flyover and the google map view shows it to be another aqueduct:

Dreadful:

The upper and lower branches come back together as we approach Oldbury and West Bromwich.  I’ll take the bridge over and continue down the left side:

But, could easily run through the industrial sites off to the right (when the pubs reopen, surely).

The old iron bridge next up is lovely and no longer seems to serve any other purpose than that:

The Bromford Lane Bridge was unusually busy for this 5th  full day of Lockdown:

There are muddy, disused towpaths on the other side so for completeness I include this footbridge next to a meadow:

And, its sister just a few metres further along (the map shows National Cycle Route 81 on that side but you’ll have happier riding where I am standing):

And, now it is time to leave the canal and do the last mile or so overland to the house.  The Pudding Creek Bridge has proven thus far useless with the muddy footpaths on that side, but I hope to explore in dry weather:

And, the Albion Bridge is the end of this trip.  Phew.  If you’ve made it this far, you truly are grasping at entertainment straws.

 

 

 

 

Working for the Clamp…erm…LOCKdown

Scooped from Twitter (Billy Bragg‘s feed, god love him), the photo is of the Clash NOT lost in the supermarket.  From last night, we live under a new regime as  Boris’ Daily Brief limits our outdoor activity to

♠ Shopping for necessities, as infrequently as possible (today it was groceries at the Oldbury Sainsbury’s);

♣ One form of exercise a day, such as running or cycling, alone or with household members (ran 3.6 miles to get there, covering some sunny bits of canal in the process);

♥ For medical or care needs, for example to help a vulnerable person (the wife is a bit ill this week so I also stopped by the pharmacy for her prescription refills; but, we’re technically off work on annual leave we scheduled months ago, anyway, which leads us to);

♦ Travelling to and from work, but only if you cannot work from home (we’ll see if I get stopped on my way to support the remaining researchers at the Uni and protecting the cell lines and equipment that need periodic-to-constant attention; J expects the workload to be entirely remote from here on in).

When they kick at your front door….

The weather is stunning.  The sprouts beg planting.  But, the plague will not be ignored.  The tension, while palpable, will only get worse.  Only a fool would think someone will save you.  At least we still can count on Tojo the Dwarf.

 

2020 Commute 18 of 52 (To): Omega Bun

Remote liquid helium level monitoring, but it can be accessed if there is a problem (“ALARM!” is actually normal…I think it switches over to “SHIT YOURSELF!” when there’s a serious issue to deal with).

Ran down to the Uni to check on instruments for the facility, the group, and some other facilities and groups in the College.  As weird as the sparse population seemed last week, this was much more post-apocalyptically surreal.  You kids probably know the Will Smith version, but Charlton Heston’s (pigment, age, etc) should spring to mind.

9.6 miles encountering 8 cylclists, 7 walkers, and 7 other runners.  Not quite the abandoned paths I expected but starting after 8 am the traffic was about 1/5 to 1/10 what I would normally expect.

2020 Commute 17 of 52 (From): Toward a Brighter Tomorrow

There is a purveyor of gardening supplies suitable for the short, outdoor season we have in this country and, with the spring and 12+ hours of light per day, I am ready to take next Autumn’s bounty out to one or more of my scouted plots (blackthorn is great protection as well as a source of sloes, if you think about it).

I had checked earlier and this cash-only business would still be open until 4:30; in typical fashion, the first two cash machines I tried in the neighbourhood had been emptied (possibly by people using fivers in lieu of elusive bog roll?).  I finally got my money up the High Street and returned to find no one attending the shop.  Shit…maybe this weekend — at another vendor.

Or, maybe not.  Pubs are now closed for the national good (it happened less than an hour after this ill fated shopping attempt); can seed banks be far behind?  I did make it to the Old Talbot a mile up the road before the PM called time on bars, but only just, before continuing on via the canals.

8.5 miles and a future as uncertain as domesticated spices grown wild.  One can only keep the faith.

 

 

The Old Talbot, Smethwick, Birmingham

Pub #2420:

The bar was loud and the juke box rocking.  Loads of punk and ska and, occasionally, something weird like “Is This The Road To Amarillo?” bled through.  I like the Talbot and bars like it but, at this time, it just seemed like a viral inoculation vessel.  I self isolated for the duration of my pint.

Ten minutes after resuming my commute run, the Prime Minister interrupted the newscast to order closure of all pubs in the UK.  The Old Talbot will be the place holder, for now, while I look for things other than bar visits to mark the passage of time.   Expect more running, architecture, house refurb, and work (I’m one of the few “essential personnel” that will keep the College alive whilst in stasis) posts.

Take care of yourselves, out there.

The Bacchus Bar, Birmingham

Pub #2419:

Discovering that the people rubbing up against me on the train were only doing so because of crowding is yet another blow to my aging ego.  Leaving the sparsely populated New Street Station with that — the forthcoming closure of the University only eight days away — I decided a beverage was in order.  The Bacchus Bar beckoned and down into the depths I strode.

Absolutely cavernous and gorgeous — it looks more like an old Abbey than a bar — the 6 patrons inside could have been joined by 200 more and it would still seem as empty as my train carriage tonight.  I sipped my ale near a monument to someone important and listened to someone who fancies himself thus tell all-and-sundry (as well as his phone companion) about the trials of being forced to work from home.  That he was neither at home nor working is the sort of irony Brits accuse Yanks of not “getting.”

I checked my phone and there was a work email from 5pm.  The University shutdown was moved up a week.  Battle stations, motherfuckers.