21 Oct 2022

Soul test

posted in: Appreciating, Art, dropwires, Gorgeousness, Photos, Telegraph Poles |

You don’t need to consult a fancy shaman to find out whether you have a soul or not. No need for some over paid, under-qualified practitioner to jangle some purple space crystals over your forehead, intensely reading the chakra quanta emanating from your aura. Put your money away. Here is a much simpler, instantaneous test. If the photo below leaves you completely unmoved then you have no soul. None whatsoever. Simple as that. You should immediately apply to 55 Tufton Street, London, SW1P 3QL for a research position. If however, this photo sent in by Hazel Long from Brighouse, W. Yorkshire, causes strange stirrings you don’t quite understand then you most definitely do have a soul. There.

Regular readers may well remember back two and a half years to this post {Shot at Dawn}. Hazel must be a baker or post-person or insomniac to so regularly (twice in three years) see dawn. That’s more than I’ve managed in a lifetime.

Distribution Pole in silhouette against dawn red sky at Brighouse, Yorkshire
20 Feb 2022

Eunice, Serendipity & people named Jim

posted in: Broken Poles, Country poles, Insulators |

As I write, storm Franklin is thrashing around outside trying to outdo it’s older siblings Dudley and Eunice. The latter came through here two days ago showing 969 millibars (hectopascals) and scared the life out of me and the ridge tiles of my house. Said storm proceeded to wrestle to the ground a 250 year old lime tree in the field across the lane. That this tree has significance to us is beyond the remit of this post/page/website. The tree also fell onto a rusting dutch barn flattening what was left from a storm 3 years ago into a mangle of corrugated rust and retired and rotted telegraph poles.

Curiosity took me out there to inspect the damage. The tree was rotten mostly through and clearly wan’t long for this world anyway, wind or no wind. I was just about to retrieve a branch or two for the home hearth when I spotted a fully intact insulator lying on the top of the grass as though it had been left there just minutes before for me to find. Then I found two more, slightly more concealed. Much excited rationalising led me to conclude that they were somehow wedged into the tree as a byproduct when the poles were used to make the now planate barn. Serendipity* that Eunice should have lead me to them.

I thought of the title of this post way before I started writing anything. I felt sure that if I just kept writing I could think of some connection between someone called Jim and the happenstance of me finding some old insulators. Like you now, I realise this far into the post that it’s just not going to happen. I can’t think of any association. At all. Try as I might. But I’ve written the heading now and I’m not the sort of person to go back and change it. So cheers, to the Jims of this world. And to one in particular 😉 May you be Lucky Jim.

* not for the lime tree.

A fallen lime tree showing huge fracture to trunk and rotted interior. Rusted dutch barn just beyond.
As I found the standard white insulator almost on the surface of the field.
And another standard white insulator peeking out from under the broken tree bits.
This insulator was under the trunk of the tree. With wire attached still.
View from above of GPO standard insulator
A pair of mud covered standard white insulators (pre-cleaning)
Cleaned up, pristine GPO standard white insulator
A pair of cleaned up standard white insulators (one still on its pin)

24 Nov 2021

Erection

posted in: Big Poles, Country poles, Engineers, GPO, Hardware, New Poles, Telegraph Poles, Vintage |

I came this ‘ ‘ close to deleting an email I received this week with the subject line as above. I used to receive many such messages. Often accompanied by words like dysfunction, failure, problems etc. All the while extolling the virtues of some wonder pills guaranteed to make my wife happy. It’s well known in this household that a long trawl around a garden centre is far more likely to lighten Mrs TPAS’ countenance than anything I could swallow. I think. I hope!

Anyway, I have the curiosity of a small, hungry cat called Brian, and I noticed that this particular email also had a photo attached. So it is by the skin of all our teeth that I present to you this delicious telegraph pole courtesy of Euros Jones.

Euros is not one to waste words and the photo came with the simple caption:

“Went through Aberangell last week and saw this pole being replaced.”

Aberangell is a village deep within the stunning gorgeousness of the Dovey hills, N.E. of Machynlleth. And just think what a coup it would have been had we also a photo of this old pole coming down and the new one going up as witnessed, alas uncaptured, by Euros. If I won the lottery I suppose I could always get them to re-enact it just for my not-at-all-obsessive benefit.

Anyway, I doff my cap firmly in Euros’ direction. He saw a pole being replaced and somehow managed to put his hands on the photo of it going up in the first place decades ago. I certainly couldn’t do that. And I don’t know many who could. Actually, I say I doff my cap, but truth is, the only headwear I ever wear is an Aberystwyth Town FC bobble hat. So next time I’m at the footy Euros, it’ll get doffed your way.

Black and white photo of a street scene in Aberangell, mid Wales, showing a GPO team putting up a four crossarm pole with great effort.
4 Aug 2021

Pole of the Month – August 2021

posted in: Country poles, Found Poles, Gorgeousness, GPO, Pole of the Month, Vintage |

I’m using this post to come out… as an enthusiastic e-biker. I have managed to wean myself off “turbo” mode now, finally – which is quite something given my great age and also the landscape around here.

Yesterday morning, 3rd August, on a 20 miler in to the hinterland (y Gwyll*1) around Bethania and Trefenter, Ceredigion, I came across this gorgeous remnant.

I had climbed from home in the well of the Aeron valley to the wildness that is to be found above 1,000 feet. Where the hedgerows give way to grassy banks and rosebay is supreme. Underneath, yellow rattles to brown, harebells nod and yarrow and tormentil snatch a peek at the sun.

This is one of only two of this type remaining on the run. The rest having long since been replaced, tidied up. The “D” plate suggests these are not long for this world either. The doby marks quite worn away with the bleaching wind in this remote place: GPO / 20L / ’58 Note the pair of intact telenduron terminators not to mention the ragged fleece of lichen.

The run of poles petered out shortly afterwards – presumably at Bancyllyn farm opposite Llyn Eiddwen (the source of the river Aeron) – I wasn’t paying attention at this point though – I was much too conscious of the sonic boom I was leaving behind from my great speed at this point.

According to folklore that I either read somewhere or have just made up thinking I’ve read it somewhere Llyn Eiddwen, is one of the portals to the fairy world. The other being the bottom of our garden. I didn’t see anything remotely fairyish here mind you, but then I refer you to my previous statement about sonic booms and going really fast etc. On my e-Bike. I’ve got one you know.

*1 as you may know if off the Welsh telly.

  • Hairy telegraph pole near Llyn Eiddwen, Ceredigion.
  • Single armed 1958 pole hairy with algal growth.
  • D plate and 8A numbering of the 1958 pole near Llyn Eiddwen.
  • Close up of doby marks on a 1958 GPO pole 20L (20 Light)
    GPO / 20L / ’58
  • Looking back at Llyn Eiddwen from the lane to the north.
    Llyn Eiddwen