Four Pits Rail Trail Circular

An official report “in pursuance of the King's Commission, dated the 12th November, 1531” noted “at Clipstone….310 red deer, of which 70 [are] deer of antler”. Andy and I saw 6 yesterday – including “2 of antler”, but only because I had lost the trail that we were meant to be on, after a combination of too much chatting and a vandalised signpost.

Still, it’s nice to know that the red deer have survived the centuries, in spite of all the other changes that have gone on in this corner of the ancient - and once much more extensive - Sherwood Forest. Hunting red deer here goes back much further than that, however. King John had a hunting lodge at Clipstone, now just a stone ruin in a farmer’s field.

Though the Sherwood area is today largely made up of stands of fir trees planted for timber, it has more recently been given over to recreational activities, including the provision of cycling trails. Nevertheless, it’s great that you can still come across both fallow and red deer here “in the wild”. Adjoining the current Clipstone Forest is land formerly used for mining with a labyrinth of associated railway lines, many of which now also provide cycle tracks. 

Our 18-mile round trip took in 4 former pit sites, at Blidworth, Rufford, Clipstone and Bilsthorpe, as well as their attendant railway spurs. Behind Andy is the old goods shed and station site at Farnsfield, the wide spaces evidence of the double track passing loop, two platforms [behind the trees in this shot], sidings and the goods yard. The view towards Mansfield from the platform is also shown in the 1960s photo.

Harry Beck, 1902-74

Clearly, I have a thing about locomotive nameplates, having moaned previously about the less appealing commercial examples plastered on the sides of some modern traction. There are many nameplates that I thoroughly approve of, though. Significant individuals are recognised for doing note-worthy things. Sometimes, I have to admit, I’ve never heard of them but I’m OK with that, too, as it increases my knowledge of some interesting people. Here’s one I like – Harry Beck. I had heard of him before through my attraction to maps. Topological maps reduce unnecessary detail to show only the required information.

Harry Beck worked for London Underground as a draughtsman in the signals’ office and his very recognisable 1930s map of the system was inspired by an electrical circuits diagram. It seems he did not get paid for it because he completed it in his own time and even then, he had to fight to get his contribution rightfully acknowledged. GB Railfreight’s Class 66 No. 66721 is helping to ensure that Harry Beck’s work is not overlooked, including not just the nameplate dedication but a livery with an extract of his famous London Underground map. Nice work, Harry. Nice work, GBRf. 

     

Toton Bank

You get a grandstand view of Toton depot and its associated sidings and loops from the top of the bank to the east of the main line. These pictures were taken from there on 25/4/21.

LNER Class J88

These 0-6-0 tanks were designed by Reid as Class F for the North British Railway and constructed at Cowlairs works between 1904 and 1919. They were used as dock shunters. All 35 survived to be taken into BR stock. No. 68341 was the first to be withdrawn in 1954, having fallen into Kirkaldy harbour. They had all gone by the end of 1962 and none were preserved. John Dyer found No. 68335 at Haymarket sheds, Edinburgh, on 30/7/62. As always, I’m very grateful to John for giving me access to his splendid archive.

 

Azuma Bike Ride

It was a pleasant afternoon for a spin. I took my bike over to friends at Laxton and we cycled from there down into the valley at Carlton-on-Trent. We were detained at the level crossing next to the Great Northern Inn while two northbound Azumas sped past on the East Coast Main Line, one quickly following behind the other. My phone camera actually did quite a good job of slowing them down sufficiently, so they weren’t just unrecognisable blurs. Sleek, modern, aero-dynamic, bright and fast they certainly are, but I think I have now probably run out of nice things to say about them. Nevertheless, it was kind of my host to include the railway in his circular itinerary with me in mind - and there is always the chance of something other than a unit, I suppose.

How ungrateful, I sound, but visits to the modern railway bring out the same emotions each time. How enthused can I get watching yet another white tube with powerful headlights flash by in the blink of an eye? The familiar paraphernalia of the old railway that we knew and loved has long gone from here – no plate-layers hut, semaphore signals, mechanically operated signal box controlling access to the loop, manually operated level crossing gates and the rest. The railway is sanitised and more remote, even when I’m standing right next to it, so the experience is simultaneously uplifting yet tinged with disappointment.

I should be more grateful. I have my memories and I can relive my experiences of the cosy, fussy, varied, well populated and intimate railway of the past in my head. I still get that same buzz when the railway itself comes into view - any railway, actually, either still operating at full tilt or just crumbling and grass-covered bridge support reminders of what has been lost. It’s just not the same feeling that it used to be, but I’m not inclined to give up on it, either. The die was well and truly cast and my furrow emphatically ploughed, long, long ago.

Great Central Re-opening

When my three-year-old grandson decided it was time to go on a train, and my granddaughter followed that up with this very personal invitation, we were all set to mark the re-opening of the GCR at the weekend. A resplendent Class 9F 2-10-0 No. 92214 City of Leicester arrived at Quorn and Woodhouse to take the family off to Leicester North and back for a leisurely picnic lunch in their own compartment. Meanwhile, Modified Hall Class No. 6990 Witherslack Hall was finding plenty of admirers in the yard at Quorn. It was ice creams all round on their return, seated outside at the Butler Henderson café.

  

Metals

A morning freight from Immingham to Mantle Lane near Coalville was carrying metals through Rolleston today, hauled by Class 66 No. 66728 Institution of Railway Operators, another nameplate that just trips off the tongue. Crew training was continuing between Nottingham and Newark on the Class 170s and a Nottingham to Lincoln service was observed crossing the River Greet near Southwell racecourse.

   

The J94s – Our Easterns

The 75 J94 saddle tanks were designed by Riddles and built by the Hunslet Engine Company. They were War Department Austerity locomotives, which the LNER bought in 1946. They had a 4F power classification under BR. All had been withdrawn from BR service by 1967, with some being sold on to the National Coal Board and 2 surviving into preservation – Nos. 68077 and 68078.

The first engines I recorded that started with a number 6 were the three J94s that resided at Bidston sheds. In fact, they were the only Eastern locomotives shedded anywhere on Merseyside in 1960/1. They were very familiar engines to us, as we could often see them from the electric trains between New Brighton and Liverpool. At the time, I had no idea what they were doing at Bidston except that as strong tank engines with a short wheelbase they were suitable for dock working. The historical connections with the old Great Central Railway were not of any immediate interest to me then.

We could also see them pottering about on the dock road from the top deck of the numbers 10 and 11 buses that ran over the bridges between Wallasey and Birkenhead and when using the footbridge over the lines next to Bidston station during cross-country runs from school. Cross country was what you had to do on a Wednesday afternoon if you wanted to avoid playing rugby. The specified route took us from the rugby club changing rooms in the grounds of St George’s School on Leasowe Road across Bidston Moss, where the M53 motorway now flies over the original landscape on a viaduct, as far as the top of Bidston Hill and back. It was a rather bleak and undeveloped area at that time and the railway, with its comparatively remote station, junctions, sidings and the sheds [6F] in this low and boggy part of the Wirral, was the predominant user of the land.

Bidston sheds had been a haunt for John Dyer for a few years before I first visited it by bike, taking the tracks that followed the railway line over the moss. His photos of the 3 Class J94s, Nos 68063, 68065 and 68066, were all taken either at Bidston station, on shed, or at Birkenhead docks. Bidston closed in 1963 and its allocation went to Birkenhead Mollington Street [6C then 8H], though our 3 J94s had all been withdrawn during the previous year.

  

Thompson’s LNER Class L1 tanks

 

Thompson’s LNER Class L1 tanks

There were 100 of these 2-6-4 tank locos, which were introduced in 1945, though most were constructed by BR between 1948 and 1950. 64 were still operating at the start of 1962, but they had all gone by the end of the year and none were preserved. This was another barren zone in my own abc combine volume records, but John Dyer photographed the sole example in his collection, No. 67766, from a passing train. It was still in steam outside Ardsley sheds and with a brake van in tow on 30/4/62.

LNER Classes V1 and V3

These 2-6-2 tanks remain as uncharted territory in my 1962 combined volume with no trace of any underlining in red. Introduced by Gresley in 1930, most V1s were rebuilt as V3s from 1939 onwards. A total of 92 locos were built at Doncaster. They had all gone by 1964 and none were preserved. John Dyer found No. 67641 at Newcastle Central on 28/7/60.

 

Name Dropping, Again

It was the mid-70s and we were staying with friends in Sheffield. Our host, like me a keen football fan and Evertonian, suggested a visit to Hillsborough to watch Wednesday play Port Vale. Trotting around in the mid-field for the home team was Colin Harvey, a hero from the 1970 title-winning Everton side. Colin was at the end of his career. His natural grace, his explosive darting runs, the ability to switch direction at speed - “spinning on a sixpence” and the way he could glide across the turf - had all deserted him. We found out later that replacement hip surgery beckoned. It was very sad to see such an influential figure from our not-so-distant past looking so out of sorts. Wednesday got thumped 3-0.

During the late 1980s, and after Sheffield Wednesday had returned to the top division, I watched Everton play at Hillsborough a number of times. Last week my friend Andy flagged up a programme that he thought we might enjoy about another former footballer, Jack Charlton, who died last year. In the meantime, Jack had also been manager at the Sheffield club. Before one of those matches, I stood in the queue for the tickets that could be purchased on the day. Ahead of me and next to the box office was another doorway, and above the entrance was a nameplate from the LNER B17 Footballer Class locomotive, No. 61661 Sheffield Wednesday, now mounted on a plaque, but with the club colours and half a brass football, as carried in the days of steam.

Many of these nameplates found their way to the respective clubs after the withdrawal of the engines themselves. Norwich City’s is on view during every televised match, above the entrance to the players’ tunnel. Everton FC have one, though the other plate is in private hands. I know this because after a few drinks one Saturday night, I rang an influential and knowledgeable auctioneer of railwayana and asked him about it. I put the phone down a bit more soberly than I had reached for it in the first place, after he told me how much I might have to pay for it if it ever came up for auction.

The Hillsborough ticket queue shuffled slowly forward but my view of the nameplate was partially blocked by a very tall bloke directly in front of me. He was with his wife, who at that moment turned towards him and said “I’ll just go and see” as she left the line. I looked up at the man and blurted out “Hello, Jack”, as though I’d known him all my life. He turned round and replied “All right, there”. I mumbled something fairly incoherent about what a pleasure it was to be able to say hello, and how we were actually there to support Everton. At least, I thinks that’s what I said. I just babbled. At that moment, his wife returned and touched his sleeve and said “We can go in over there” and they were gone.

It took a minute or two for me to get my head round what had just happened. So, because he had arrived without a ticket, this renowned World Cup winning footballer, who had actually managed this club himself only a few years before, was quite happy to queue for a ticket with the rest of us, instead of adopting a “Do you know who I am?” approach that would surely have had them hurriedly laying out the red carpet. It told me all I needed to know about Jack Charlton, man of the people and a lot more than that. I knew it was fact rather than myth because I’d witnessed his humility myself.

In 2009, we were lucky enough to get to watch Everton at a Wembley FA cup final, the first time I had done so. It was a fabulous event on a lovely spring day, even though we lost 2-1 to Chelsea. During half time, a smartly suited gentleman sporting a blue flower in his buttonhole, ambled around the edge of the pitch and climbed - a little gingerly, I thought - up the tiered gangway between the rows of seats, in order to chat with someone that he obviously knew, who happened to be seated just a few feet in front of us. “That’s Colin Harvey” I mentioned to Chris. “Why don’t you speak to him, then. He’s a hero of yours, isn’t he? she added.

So, I did, and this time I was [I like to think] coherent and respectful. Colin was delightful company, happy to talk and politely appreciative of my, hopefully not over-cooked, attempt at flattery. I just had to say how much pleasure he had given us, while we regularly roared on the best midfield trio that I have ever seen in the flesh - Ball, Harvey and Kendall. He stayed considerably longer than he needed to for the sake of etiquette, and only headed back towards his own seat when it looked like an incomplete football match might shortly be ready to restart. As he strolled round the ground at his now fairly sedate pace, it was clear once more that he had committed his best legs to the cause many years before - but what legs they had been in their day. 

    

LNER Class J38

These chunky Gresley 0-6-0s dated from 1926. Classified as 6F under BR, all 35 of the locos built for the LNER were still in service in 1962, but because they were Scottish-based I saw precisely none of them. Withdrawal was complete by 1967 and there are no preserved examples. John Dyer photographed No. 65901 at Eastfield sheds on 1/8/64.