Memoirs of a Railway Volunteer - Part 6

On To Rowsley. Part I

From 1992 I made a resolute attempt to leave the railway and lead a normal life. It wasn’t entirely successful. I kept in touch, and was well aware of the plans being made for the Rowsley extension, which were being discussed before I left. It was evident that, as we had expected, the initial section of the line was not likely to trade well enough to survive and that the railway must be extended as soon as possible.

A further slice of the Buxton site was sold to provide working capital, and the track there disposed of as well, something about which I had mixed feelings. However it has to be said that the track was of mixed quality, extraction would have been expensive, and we had nowhere to put it because of the enormous stacks of material which filled the lineside up to Church Lane. When all was said and done I had other priorities and wasn’t going to be around to shift it myself.

One evening I drove back through Darley Dale and saw the clearance gang coming back from Church Lane. It was the first day of work on the extension, and they were sooty, shattered and very happy. A column of smoke rose in the distance. I had not been there and felt a very real wrench.

One project I was involved in for one weekend at around this time was the clearance of the Up sidings area at the North end of Darley Dale. This had been used as a dumping ground for the spoil scraped off the trackbed between the platforms and from various diggings, amounting to several hundred tons. It had to go before the track was laid, and my advice was sought. I arranged for Jim Hardy to receive it up at Winster. I also arranged to bring down a large quantity of MOD pattern concrete sleepers which had been left on site at Buxton after the tracks there were lifted. These went a long way towards building the Up carriage sidings.

Mick Thomas was planning the extension on the assumption that we would probably clear the trackbed faster and cheaper without a derelict land grant, in which he turned out to be correct. There were no bridges to repair, or lakes of mud to clear, and once the trees had been dealt with he cleaned the remains of the ballast with a home made scarifier. This consisted of two lengths of flatbottom rail about ten feet long. Each had several holes cut with a gas torch, through which Mick welded chair screws. The rails had steel bars welded on the top, which supported a couple of concrete sleepers. This made a heavy rake which Mick dragged up and down the trackbed with an ancient Fordson tractor. In the process the dirt was riddled down to the bottom leaving a level bed for tracklaying. During the clearance Mick managed to find the truth behind one of the local legends, which was that some rails had been buried at Church lane and missed by the scrapman. The rails turned up, there were two of them but only about fifteen feet long apiece. Part of the share money was invested in second hand but sound machinery, a JCB for general use and a Drott excavator for accurate levelling. Both proved good investments and saved substantial hire costs.

The other project I was involved in during this period was the clearance of the lineside up to Rowsley. The down side, which is furthest away from the A6 was particularly infested with dead brambles, and on a rare visit I discovered that these were to be cleared. I knew very well that we had a flame gun in store, which I swiftly retrieved and primed. As I recall it was a raw and windy winters day. The ground was damp and the dead vegetation was dry, ideal conditions for burning it off.

A flame gun, if you have not seen one, works on a similar principle to an old plumbers blowtorch. Paraffin under pressure is sprayed out of a nozzle about three feet long, and is supposed to be vaporised by a heating coil at the end. If the coil isn’t hot then you get a nice long jet of burning paraffin. Either way it is extremely effective. Paul Stubley and myself worked upwind from the Church Lane end, firing about thirty feet of lineside at a time. We poked the nozzle through the fence from the field side and up went the brambles. The resulting fireballs were pretty spectacular. We cleared the entire lineside in an afternoon. If we had started firing at the downwind end it would probably have taken about five minutes. One thing that came to light was a firehole deflector plate which must have been lying in the undergrowth for at least forty years. There was very little left of it. The snag was that we were also setting fire to the wooden lineside fencing, which was still wanted, so other volunteers followed up behind us beating out the flames on the fence. John Philips photographed it all; somewhere in his collection is a shot of me bowing modestly to the camera against a backdrop of leaping flames. Somehow Derek Ankers got himself badly scorched stamping on the blaze. He told me afterwards that he didn’t realise he was burnt until he ran himself a nice hot bath that night, which he left rather faster than he got in.

Then in the early part of 1994 I was properly back on the railway. I had been involved in a relationship, and the end was messy, terrible and sad. I was feeling a bit chipped round the edges and it was good to be back with friends again. At the end of January, track had been laid to a point 30 feet short of the southern end of Rowsley site, and under Mick’s leadership, a considerable amount of work had been done on the extension generally. Working North from Darley Dale, there was a neat level crossing at Church lane, and the ex-Gorsey Bank box was sitting on its stilts ready for cladding. The signalling had yet to be designed or installed. All the rail was flatbottom bought second hand from one source to ensure a consistent head and a smooth ride. In fact it was cut down continuous welded rail. This has proved a particularly sound decision as it has required minimal maintenance ever since. Sleepers had been acquired in batches whenever the opportunity arose, and here a member from Stockport called Brian Oliver had proved particularly enterprising.

Brian had been recruited by the late Bernard Smythe, a retired Manchester banker. Bernard was a good friend and adviser to Peak Rail. He preferred to work behind the scenes and had contacts in many places; recruiting Brian was a masterstroke. Peter Beet (founder of Steamtown, Carnforth and owner of several locomotives including Leander, which Brian originally purchased and restored) described Brian as a human dynamo, and we let him loose on the Rowsley extension.

By the time I returned, Brian had not only obtained the donation of several hundred concrete sleepers from a site in Cheshire, he also got an army transport unit to move them, 238 (Manchester) Squadron, Royal Logistics Corps. We were now preparing to invade the forest on Rowsley site itself, though seriously short of money and materials.

I was picking through the stocks of materials at Church Lane, matching up odd lifting fishplates into pairs when Mick came through with the works train and spotted me.

“Never mind wasting your time on that Oaksy. Take charge of these lads and get me two good sets of B8 ironwork sorted out”. I find it difficult to say what this meant to me at the time. It was a boost to my self confidence at a time when I needed it, and I don’t think I have ever thanked Mick, or “the lads” – until now.

I was accepted as a member of the informal Junta running the extension project, which consisted of Mick, Bob Grange, Steve Ryszka and myself, with Brian Oliver acting as salvage gopher and Army Liaison Officer. As ever Arthur Dudson was providing the surveys and the site drawings, and what a joy it was to handle one of his beautiful clear hand drawn plans again. Then I really knew I was back. We also had a formidable second line of management, consisting of experienced volunteers who could be relied on to get on with a job, do it to a high standard and supervise others, – the names of Vince Kay, Derek Ankers, David Ives, Peter Knight, Dominic Beglin (S & T), Gary Dixon, Terry Perkins, Andy Wood, Mike Ball and Roger Hallett spring to mind, and no doubt there were others I have forgotten. We could confidently plan on the basis of a minimum of twelve to fifteen volunteers working every Sunday in up to three gangs, plus one gang of six on Saturdays and Wednesdays. Additionally we had very valuable assistance from the Derbyshire County Council Daycare Services Team, who could be relied upon to tackle simple but very necessary tasks with energy and enthusiasm.

At this time Rowsley site was a very different proposition from today. Road access was down Derwent Lane, known generally as Nannygoat Crossing, and trees grew thickly all over the site. They were self set, shallow rooted and spindly. A lot of them were dead and leaning on the others. The site is about 650 yards long by up to 200 yards wide, and most of it was then virgin forest. Casual visitors could not find the shed site without directions, and would not be able to find the turntable pit at all. There was no water, no electricity, and therefore no tea. We spent a considerable effort tracing and clearing the network of surface water drains which ran under the site. Railway drainage work must always be designed and built to a high standard and cannot be left to chance. One shaft was about twelve feet deep and entirely filled with loco coal. We christened it “Rowsley Main Colliery” and set about clearing it out. I was at the bottom of it, tying a rope round the remains of the lid, when the drain to the next shaft suddenly cleared – I think Derek Ankers was rodding it at the time. There was a tremendous noise of rushing water in a confined space, and I climbed out very rapidly. A fair exchange for his scorched trousers. As a result of this work the water table fell noticeably and there was more dead timber than ever.

Part of the site had already been cleared by contractors, who had sawn trees off at ground level and ground the wood into chips, but that left us the stumps to deal with. Mick preferred to have the trees cut off about four feet above the ground as this gave something for the JCB to get hold of. Mick, Bob and myself spent a particularly nasty winters day trying to grub up the stumps between Christmas and New Year. The sleet had frozen on the trees, and the ground was iron hard. I simply could not get a fire to burn properly and progress was slow. Such stumps as we managed to uproot were heaped up at the edge of the site and left to dry out. Actually I suppose we didn’t do too badly but there were thousands of stumps and a better way would have to be found.

Fortunately Brian Oliver was the man to find it. Part of his business consisted of supplying vending machines to the messes of various T.A. units, where he dealt with the senior NCO’s, who actually ran things, whereas I had merely been writing to the commanding officers. He managed to involve a Royal Engineers squadron based in Sheffield, which particularly specialised in making landing grounds in forests for the use of Harrier jump jets.

As a preliminary, the army delivered two temporary bridge decks which Brian had found somewhere. These were each made of huge oak beams bolted together. Mick was not entirely happy with them and designed his own improvised bridge over the culvert at Bridge 41, just behind what was then “The Happy Eater”. This was made out of crossing timbers supported on several lengths of flat bottom rail. Arthur Dudson calculated that it would take loadings up to 100 tons at least, and all our rolling stock has been delivered over it ever since. The timber decks were put to other uses and the remains of them can be found in the engineers yard to this day. Mick also obtained and spread several hundred tons of road scrapings to make a very serviceable access road.

The army arrived on the first weekend in March. They had large dumper trucks, large Volvo excavators, and best of all, a large 360 machine with an expert driver. By the time I got there on Saturday morning, spectacular progress was being made, watched by an awestruck gang of volunteers who were keeping well out of the way up at Nannygoat Crossing. A huge dump of uprooted stumps was growing rapidly close to the boundary with Firth Rixon.

“Well done Brian, what time does the first Dakota land?” Brian organised a whip round to buy beer for the T.A. who were having a whale of a time. For them this was an excellent opportunity to carry out realistic training on a site where they could do as they wished. We were invited to join them in the evening and were given the opportunity to sample their rations. I remember the tinned steak and kidney puddings, traditionally known as “baby’s heads” were particularly good. There were quite a lot of leftovers, which Kevin Jones squirrelled away and in fact lived off for quite some time. This may be why, twelve years later, a case of very badly blown army puddings was mysteriously found in the S&T stores.

Work continued on the Sunday, though a little more slowly. One of the Volvo excavators was out of action with a tree root through the radiator, which led to the soldier concerned being formally paraded before the Officer Commanding. By the end of the weekend the majority of the stumps had been ripped out ready for clearance, and what was left was within our capabilities, though still a substantial task.

Elsewhere, Church Lane signal box was set up on its stilts ready for fabrication of the base, and over the next few weeks Mick welded in the bracing and the lower cladding started to go on. Kevin Jones was organising the purchase of a Lowmac wagon, which was financed by Cliff Fraser, and which did away with the need to keep the JCB taxed and insured, as we could now move it wherever it was required by rail. The timber decks delivered by the army were used to make a loading dock at the south end of Rowsley site.

Meanwhile, Brian Oliver had something on his mind. He had narrowly failed to obtain a quantity of bullhead track from a British Coal site in Lancashire, and took the line that British Coal owed him a favour. He got quite obsessive about it, and I suspect that he was given the Silverhill project, also known as Bloxwich Landsale Site, purely to shut him up. The track was of marvellous quality, the rails had a rolling date of 1980 marked on them, and the site had been out of use for many years, so they were just about brand new. There was around three quarters of a mile of rail on concrete sleepers, four sets of turnouts and bufferstops. Brian not only got the track donated free of charge, he got the army to shift everything except the rails. Arthur Dudson reckoned this donated material as worth about £120,000, and after a long lifetime in the business he was in a position to know.

Considerable further efforts went into site clearance, and it was during this period that we began to clear the turntable area. At this period it was only just possible to force the dumper through the trees on what is now the shed approach. Despite the magnificent assistance from the army, there were still many trees and stumps to get rid of. By the beginning of June, Mick had cleared the site to a standard fit for tracklaying as far North as the electric pylons which carried the overhead power supply to Firth Rixons, roughly halfway to Nannygoat Crossing. The rest of it was still a bombsite of sprouting or uprooted stumps and felled trees. I was also engaged at this time in levelling the new sidings at Darley Dale and fencing them off from the main line.

In fact June was an extremely active period; we were starting to get the rhythm going again. I organised a further donation of several hundred tons of ballast from BLI via John Allerton, and Brian mobilised the army to shift it in the course of one weekend. As the screens at Tunstead closed at lunchtime on Saturday this involved some fairly complicated logistics – just the sort of training the army wanted. Convoys of army lorries shuttled the stone to Buxton site until the screens shut, then it was re-loaded for the longer journey to Rowsley. Mick had got some of the new track laid as far as the pylons and immediately began levelling this with the new supply of stone. BLI donated all the ballast used on the Rowsley Extension and that must have been at least 4000 tons.

Deliveries from Bloxwich continued, also with the help of the army, and by the end of June the volunteers had also cut a wide strip across the site at right angles to the line of the tracks, ready for the laying of an underground cable to replace the pole route. Mick had followed up and dug a trench across the full width of the site. Clearance in the turntable pit continued. Quite a month!

The Annual General Meeting in July also functioned as an annual reunion for the volunteers and the room was packed. I was re-elected to the board as P.W. director. I remember stating that the name of the new station should be changed to Rowsley South, on the grounds that nobody knew where Northwood was, that it was to be built near the site of Rowsley South Junction, and I did not intend to spend the rest of my life explaining where Rowsley Shed was. The AGM was followed by a highly successful party at Darley Dale. A bit afterwards there was a letter in the Matlock Mercury which criticised our choice of name, and this gave me the chance to announce a competition to choose a new one. By an amazing coincidence, the winning entry recommended to the board by me, was Rowsley South.

Also at about this time, Summer 2004, I stated an intention to complete the extension by Easter 2005. It seemed within reach at the time – the site clearance was well in hand, we had all the track we needed, the volunteers were going at full throttle, and so much had been done already. This was not achievable, and there were a lot of things I had not taken into account. First and foremost, I am not a professionally trained engineer, and I was not working to a proper engineers bill of quantities. Thinking about a complex engineering project at a distance in time and space is all very well; close up things look different. There were many large jobs which I had barely glimpsed. Others only became apparent later. There was a lot of money still to raise, and much to do, not only to build the extension, but to maintain and operate the railway we had already got. The next three years were to keep a large team fully occupied. Even so, the progress up to Easter 2005 was pretty spectacular.

During July and the first part of August, work concentrated on completing the cable trench, with its armoured conduits wherever sidings were predicted for the future, and gathering bricks for the substation, which were salvaged from the turntable pit and cleaned up. The base of the substation was concreted and Brian Toyne, a professional electrician, began overhauling and making up the switch gear to go in it. Brian Oliver arranged a further salvage operation, this time from Shirebrook colliery, from which 20 tons of rail and several hundred concrete sleepers arrived during August. Again he organised the army to move the sleepers. The Shirebrook rail was not as good as that from Bloxwich, but would serve very well in the loop. Meanwhile tracklaying on Rowsley site continued at up to 200 yards per week.

At this stage the track layout included two bay platforms on the car park side, and the track was actually laid for these, though it had to be lifted later, as it would have doubled the cost of the platform, and eventually we reckoned this was one expense too far. Word of these activities spread, and had its effect on the number of visitors. Takings on the August Bank Holiday Sunday alone were £1700.

By the beginning of October, the track gang had completed the turnouts at the North end of Rowsley site, when the JCB broke down. This made tracklaying more difficult, so we concentrated on cutting down trees until it was fixed later that month, as well as projects such as Church Lane box.

Also at this time we built a short bay behind the Up platform at Darley Dale. This involved digging out quite a lot of spoil, which was spread behind the platform. The Bay wall was built using the foundation blocks from the old footbridge, which we had dug out when installing the signal box. They are sandstone and about two feet square, and were carefully placed with the rail crane. This new facility was put into use for the first “Ghost Train” event at the end of October. Such events are now common all over the country, but I believe that we were the first to try it and I think the original idea came from Andy and Hazel Evans. The restaurant car had just been restored by the volunteers and fitted out with generous financial help from Cliff Fraser, and was shunted into the bay to cater for the visitors.

If you try to imagine a large commercial event held within the confines of Darley Dale station at night you will begin to realise why we needed the Rowsley extension so badly. The learning curve stretched upwards, and that night it rained hard. We had a barbecue set up inside an improvised shelter. Rain ran through the roof in streams, and straight down my neck as I bent over the fire to shield the food. We had included the food in the price of the ticket, and that generated a demand which was difficult to fulfil. I think everyone got something to eat in the end. From this rough beginning the concept has been polished up to become the successful event of the present day.

I also spent some time fencing off the Up sidings and building ash paths there. The idea was to make a viewing area, to encourage visitors to spend longer on the railway. I had noticed from the monthly management accounts that the income from Darley Dale shop tended to be a steady proportion of the ticket income, but if we had too many visitors, the shop income would not exceed a certain limit, as more customers could not fit in the shop. Shop takings are the key to survival on most preserved railways, trains by themselves will not make enough money, and I reckoned if the passengers could be induced to spend longer on site they might also get the chance to spend more money. In practice the area was too cramped and soon became too full of rolling stock to be attractive, but I believe the business principle remains sound.

The JCB returned to duty in November and tracklaying reached the top of Rowsley site, where Mick used 60 tons of crusher run stone to build the present unloading ramp, which was put to almost immediate use, with one LMS coach coming in and one BR coach going out. More ballast came in and we began levelling up the turnouts. Our working routine required that the works train got away from Darley Dale early, went up the extension and stayed there with the Up Carriage siding turnout locked behind it as trap points until passenger operations were finished. Building and operating a railway at one and the same time can be a complicated business. I had hoped to use the Up carriage siding as a base for the construction train, which would have saved a lot of fuss, but it was completely occupied by carriages.

Once the Santa Specials began this meant we always returned in the dark. The Junta would cluster around the stove and lay their plans over a cup of tea on the way back, often we would talk over the project lists until late in the evening. That year the railway was considerably busier than before, part of the increasing commercial momentum. My diary records that on one day we had no lees than five coachloads of beaver scouts. Up at Rowsley we had some less welcome visitors; the wooden site gate was smashed in by ram raiders and a quantity of wooden sleepers were stolen. Mick promptly installed the steel gates which remain to this day. Not exactly railway style, but reasonably secure. Over this period we worked back down the runround loop laying track towards the south crossover, and this was completed in time for Christmas.

Ballast deliveries began in the new year of 2005, building up to a level of around 1000 tons per month. We had discovered that the ground on which the loop was laid was saucer shaped rather than flat; information received suggested that the surface had been gouged away by the scrap merchants gathering up spilt coal from the old loco shed sidings. In places the ballast had to be up to a foot deep under the sleepers to compensate.

Delays and rising costs forced a hard decision in respect of the remaining Hams Hall stocks. These had to be moved away from the lineside at Church Lane for safety reasons, and the decision was made to scrap 200 tons of material. Scrap prices were at a periodic high, and it was the end of February, the bleakest point in the financial year. A lot of the rail was 85lb bullhead, which we disliked as too light and non-standard, and the real problem was a lack of sleepers to match. Shifting the material took three weeks; there was still an enormous amount left over. Then we had another diversion South of Darley Dale.

A new housing development was to be built between the railway and the A6, and it needed a surface water drain running under the railway. The developer appeared to be in a tearing hurry and actually started to dig a trench across the trackbed before any agreement had been reached. This ploy did not work for just as they began to dig across the boundary, Mick arrived on a diesel shunter, with our valuation expert also on the footplate. By sheer coincidence they were making a site inspection prior to working out the asking price.

Naturally the developer was told to get back on his own land and behave himself. He was chastened but curious – how on earth had we known he was starting work so quickly? Mick looked him straight in the eye. “Nobody does anything in this valley that we don’t know about”. Pure bluff of course, I wouldn’t care to play poker with him.

After that the developer rapidly agreed to pay the full market rate for the wayleave, plus a fair and generous amount for our labour in removing a panel of track. This was duly done and the drain was installed, together with an access manhole on our land. After we had put the track back, the developer went bust and the liquidator refused to pay the bill. He took the line that the drain was there, so what could we do? He was content simply to sell the houses and take the money. Mick Thomas and I conferred with the volunteers, for we intended that the railway should be paid.

An unscheduled works train ran south of Darley Dale after dark that Sunday. Shortly afterwards Severn Trent came to inspect the drain. Flow tests were unsatisfactory, so they sent a remote controlled camera down to inspect the pipe. Somewhere under the railway, it encountered a large rock which totally blocked the bore. It would have been possible to remove the rock through the inspection chamber, but there was now a large pile of concrete sleepers covering the lid which could not be moved without a rail crane. No drain – no house sales.

The liquidator was not pleased. I think he said something about people taking the law into their own hands. Then he paid up. The concrete sleepers promptly vanished, and so did the rock.

Back up at Rowsley, work continued on a variety of projects. Apart from general ballasting and tracklaying, we were digging out the main ashpit, foreigners’ ashpit (just behind the turntable pit) and the turntable pit itself. Several more manholes were found intact and cleaned out, and the main outfall manhole next to the shed was rebuilt. We had further troubles with thieves who were interrupted trying to burn insulation off the cables in the electricty sub station which was nearing completion. That is why it now has a steel reinforced door. Firth Rixon has had persistent problems over the years, there is Titanium on their site which is a standing temptation to criminals, and I think Peak Rail gets some of the fall out.

Another distraction which came along at this time, just before Easter, was our first “Thomas” weekend, the brainchild of Andy and Hazel Evans, who did a lot of the planning, though they were unable to see it through to fruition. Jackie Statham stepped into the breach and saw it through. As an event it was much bigger and more expensive than anything we had done before, and we were frankly terrified. This was a good thing, as the preparations were energetic and meticulous. My part included building a two large sets of timber steps to get visitors in and out of a DMU owned by Mike Hancox, which was stabled in the North Up sidings at Darley Dale, and fitted out as a cinema for the weekend. I finished the steps with the help of Peter Knight at about 10pm on the night before. We hired in a “Thomas”, an ex- Manchester Ship canal 0-6-0 from the East Lancashire Railway, and used it to work a train of brake vans on the Down side of the loop at Darley Dale. We also used the Whitworth Park, and hired a farmer’s field for parking. The main passenger trains were top and tailed by Duke and Warrington.

Two memories particularly stick in my mind. There were hundreds of perfectly behaved children about eight years old and having a marvellous time. For the first time we had, in effect two train working, and there was a very attractive air of bustling activity at Darley Dale. The weekend attracted about 3000 visitors, and made a profit well into four figures, but no-one should underestimate the financial, physical and administrative commitment which such an event requires.

As an aid to operations we built a second carriage siding at Darley Dale on the Down side. It was filled immediately and I really don’t know how we had managed without it before. We also relaid the first few hundred yards of the extension, which had been built with ex-Hams Hall 85lb bullhead. We replaced it with Bloxwich material and recovered the bullhead in panels for use in the sidings at Rowsley.

Back on the extension things were looking good, even if it wasn’t open. New track properly aligned on clean white ballast spread on raw black ash made a dramatic contrast. One Sunday the ballasting gang was taking a break, and watching the clearance gang at work near the turntable pit. There were so many volunteers they had to drink tea in shifts. Suddenly Chris Brewin froze and said “Its gone up my leg!” He started dancing about, beating at his clothes. Bob Grange howled with laughter, and something tiny shot across the ground, and up Bob’s trousers, and then it was his turn to jump, while the rest of us had hysterics. They had disturbed a tiny shrew which sought refuge in the nearest dark warm place. It was so small that Bob couldn’t find it if it kept still, so he had no choice but to strip off. The shrew promptly hid in the pile of clothes, which Bob went through with extreme suspicion.

Other distractions were not far away. Brian Oliver had arranged further salvage sponsorship with Courtaulds at Spondon, where about 1000 yards of siding were to be disposed of. I had a useful contact there, as the regular scrap contractor was David Cotton, and his son, Sam was one of our regular volunteers. In fact I had been round the site before, and I was rather dubious as much of the rail was light section flatbottom. However Brian had also managed to rope in the South Tynedale Railway, who provided several large working parties, and some of their volunteers were Welsh Highland ’64 Company members who had worked with us at Hams Hall. They were going to buy the light section rail, with the proceeds going to the Galatea project, of which Brian was a founder. He had quite a thing about Jubilees.

Courtaulds was one of the most demanding sites we had worked on, and it says a great deal for Courtaulds that they were prepared to let a bunch of amateurs in there at all. Some very volatile chemicals were made there, and everyone involved had to take a safety course, pass a written exam, and wear hard hats, boots, and working gloves at all times – which the management checked every half hour. Open drains ran alongside the site roads. Water heading for the treatment plant looked like dilute tomato soup; the water coming out was crystal clear with hundreds of fish in it. They were deliberately bred as a check on water quality.

I don’t know how long these particular sidings had been out of use. Several decades at a guess. The fishplates were rust welded to the rail ends. Once the bolts had been cut off – spanners were no use – it took many blows from a sledgehammer to break the seal. On some of the rails the web was completely rusted through behind the plate. A reasonable proportion of the sleepers were sound, and in the end we took some hundreds back to Rowsley for eventual use in the sidings, but it took a long time to get track in pieces. Brian caught pneumonia, and had to take several weekends off. He came down for the final day on site in July to supervise the tidying up. He complained the infection was hard to shift, and was clearly far from well. This was the last time I saw him, as a little later cancer was diagnosed, widespread and inoperable. He died on 19th October, 1995. When you stand on Rowsley Station and watch the train coming in, what you see is his memorial.

To be concluded.

Tim Oaks

 

Rowsley Main Colliery. 1994

Excavation of one of the deep manholes at Rowsley. The usual suspects: Mick Thomas, Vince Kay, Derek Ankers.

Tim