Consistently inconsistent weather

I saw something today on my trip round Halifax that made me chuckle. Well, the thing I saw didn’t (it was a train cargo) but the thing it reminded me of did. I remembered sat on a platform, most probably in the middle of nowhere awaiting my link to another middle in a different nowhere, when a cargo train went past. On the side it simply read ‘WARNING! SHAFT HUMPING POSSIBLE’

Now, a sign like that is going to get my attention. And so, when I saw a cargo come thundering through Brighouse station today, my eyes were peeled for more humping. Unfortunately, there wasn’t even a warning sign. May day was off to a terrible start!

Anyway so I was in Brighouse waiting to go to Sowerby Bridge. For those who don’t know, Sowerby is a town jarred into a steep river valley, just below Halifax. And when I say below, I mean below.

After a cheeky shop round Sowerby, my plan was to bike to Halifax to complete a final mooch around a supermarket. Google maps said it was barely spitting distance from Sowerby, so I decided to bike it there. Unfortunately, what Google maps did NOT tell me was that to reach Halifax, you have to bike the northeast ridge of Everest.

The ascent up to Halifax is a killer, with steep, continual uphill following the path of the river. It must have been a meaty river to gorge such a gash in the earth. To make matters worse, the weather had changed. Oh you have to love the weather of the Pennines. One minute it’s bright sunshine, then the next some wind picks up and Manchester belches a rain cloud in your direction. I entered Sowerby Tesco in the sun; I left in the rain. This decided to continue until I was about 100 yards from my Halifax shop, when of course the Sun broke through the clouds.

‘Well, at least it’ll be sunny when I make my way back’, I thought. Of course I was wrong. The weather had reached new levels of utter dour when I got back on my bike. But I didn’t mind as I was about to free-wheel back down Everest and to the station back in Sowerby.

What I didn’t realise was just how strong the wind had become. I remember about a month ago going on a jolly trip down south to visit my mate Brede, in scenic Grantham, for his birthday. Everyone was there, and I was accidentally misunderstood when I told everyone huddled around the warming barbeque that I had been ‘blown off’ on my bike the previous week. Hilarity ensued, much to my detriment, but eventually I explained that the wind had diverted me into a ditch near Digley reserviour.

Anyway as I was saying, I hadn’t realised how strong the wind had got, and was ALMOST blown off my bike as I descended from the Heavens. Luckily I kept my balance and dignity and sped off towards the station. When I got to the station, the Sun was frolicking once again, which cheered me up. Even though I was soaking wet.