#261 – Cheadle Bleachworks

For reasons that are, at best unclear, and at worse, downright weird, I have this thing about industrial ruins. Not so ruined that you can’t tell what it was, but ruined enough to be beyond repair. Proper mongy old crap – roofs caved in, doors hanging off and such like. They’re usually quick to explore as there’s not much to see, and quite often mostly inaccessible, but from an aesthetic perspective, they can throw up some interesting photographs.

Cheadle Bleachworks was one of the most ruinous places I’ve stumbled through. The history of it is pretty vague as quite understandably, no-one has been bothered to spend that much time researching it, and it’s a pretty insignificant place anyway.

Not being burdened with much in the way of roofing, the strong directional sunlight shining through the remains of the decrepit structures made for some interesting shadows, and if anything, these are best displayed on the monochrome images. These are true monochrome inasmuch as they were taken on proper black and white film (Ilford XP2) using a Nikon FM. If anything, I think I prefer these to the ones I took of the same scenes in colour, but the colour images were better out of the direct sunlight. I also experimented for the first time with selective colour (see the first image), which at the time in 2007 was quite a popular technique. It’s fallen out of favour since somewhat, primarily in my opinion, because like HDR, people either overdid it or used blatantly unsuitable images. I’ve done very few other selective colour images, but I like to think that this one has stood the test of time and still works. It’s certainly done well in competitions.

‘PLEASE KEEP THIS DOOR CLOSED’

The site was a fairly unremarkable explore that doesn’t stand out in my memory, other than the crunching of broken glass and roofing material underfoot (which is why I always wear boots or safety shoes on explores), and the drums of unidentified chemicals that had been left / dumped in one of the rooms.

Company records still on site, although slightly singed after someone indulged in a spot of arson.

Boilers

Despite the apocalyptic devastation, it’s somewhat ironic that this site was bought by a developer who intended to convert some of the buildings to housing.  Mystifying to me as none of the buildings, in my opinion had any architectural merit whatsoever, but kudos to the developer for tackling this site and making a silk purse out of a real sow’s ear.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheadle_Lower_Mill

Hard to imagine, but this is now a rather nice property, complete with a 100 foot tall red brick chimenea in the back yard, a talking point if nothing else.

# 260 – Staffordshire Collieries Part 2 – Apedale

Now this was more like it. Someone at Chatterley Whitfield had told us that there was another colliery, Apedale, that we could visit in Stoke, but it was at the other end of town. As I didn’t have a satnav, I had to follow Bungle at breakneck speed across town to find the place. It appeared to be just closing for the day, but the proprietor was a fantastic bloke and he agreed to stay open for a bit longer and to take us underground as well. Apedale is a drift mine, which means that the shaft was dug diagonally into the ground rather than vertically, and there was little of the vast array of surface infrastructure that there was at Chatterley Whitfield. However, there was a newly built museum, and of course the mine you could go down, which is always good. There were big plans for Apedale, and it sounds like they’re coming to fruition, with the Moseley Railway Trust moving their stock there in 2010 to become the Apedale Valley Railway. At the time it was still at the planning stage, but there was still enough to keep us amused.

Well worth a visit! The place is officially the Apedale Heritage Centre, find more about them on their website http://www.apedale.co.uk/

Manic Miner – Gibbo gets stuck in.

Our host -  a smashing chap who showed us round and let us do our light painting in the mine.

 Bungle, DCG, Me, R1 and Gibbo. I’ve explored with them all on ‘proper’ explores, a top bunch of lads.

# 259 – Staffordshire Collieries Part 1 – Chatterley Whitfield

Another one from the archives here, this was an ‘official’ visit to this crumbling edifice on a so-called open day. Actually, that’s being harsh and doing a disservice to our guides from the Ffriends of Chatterley Whitfield, who are probably more disappointed about the condition of this place than anyone else, and I’m sure have the best interests of the place at heart.

The colliery was one of the last in the Staffordshire coalfield, and upon closure, became a museum. however, this closed in 1993 due to drainage problems, but I’ve also heard that there were some other financial issues. However given the amount of infrastructure on site, the upkeep of the site must have been massive. That’s a great shame, because compared with other preserved collieries such as the National Coalmining museum in Yorkshire, it’s almost completely intact. Well, sort of. The majority of the site is out of bounds due to it being in such poor condition, indeed, I was speaking to a former NCB surveyor, who is now a consulting surveyor, and although he’d been asked to do a survey on the site, some bits they wouldn’t let him into due to it’s condition. THat it’s been allowed to deteriorate to such an extent is scandalous, and English Heritage have already listed it as being ‘At Risk’ and requiring at least £25million to repair (although given that you have to use a cartel of suppliers named by English Heritage to repair listed buildings, that might be somewhat inflated?).

 Platt Shaft

The worry is that the place will either just collapse, or end up having to be demolished. Given the lack of money around at the moment, especially amongst the public sector, I really cannot see how this place can be restored, at least not in its entirety. It would be a huge shame if it ended up as a watered down, stripped out museum like the National Coal Mining Museum (enjoyable though it is to visit).

Industrial landscape

So as we walked through the miles of Herras fencing with our hard hats and an unusually high number of escorts / guides, we had to contend with looking at the buildings and headstocks from something of a distance. Yes, yes, I know all about H&S considerations, insurance, etc, but it would have been nice to have been allowed a bit closer or even in some of the buildings.  The saving grace were our main guides, both former colliery workers, whose stories helped put a lot of the site into context, and it was worth the visit just for this alone.

Decay

The only buildings we actually entered were the lamp house and the semi-restored bath house, where I was fortunate to be able to capture one of my favourite photos, ‘Colliers Boot’.

Colliers Boot

Sinke – this being Stoke, I’d presume they were locally made

If you do get the chance to visit this place in one of the increasingly rare open days, do so, but don’t expect to see a great deal.

Former glory – probably taken some time in the 60′s or 70′s. Pretty much everything you see in this picture is still there.

#255 – Great North Steam Fair 2 – Coffee Pots and a Colliery

I think this is a de Winton engine, similar to the ones photographed on the Geotopoi blog

The colliery at Beamish is a real one,  well sort of, it’s made up of bits of other collieries that have been rebuilt to form one new one. The steam engine works as well, and the entire setup makes a wonderful backdrop for some railway photography. Unfortunately, none of the larger standard gauge  engines were in steam on the colliery line, although some narrow gauge line had been set up for some visiting narrow gauge vertical boilered engines, known colloquially as ‘coffee pots’. I’d only ever seen photographs of these before, so it was interesting to see just how small they are in real life.

A recent arrival at Beamish is standard gauge 0-6-0 ‘Newcastle’. This was named after Newcastle-under-Lyme in its native Staffordshire, not the nearby Newcastle-on-Tyne. It’s not been steamed since the 80′s but seems to be in reasonably good condition, and is due for restoration at Beamish.

A somehwat larger standard gauge vertical boilered engine. This was as close as I could get and couldn’t speak to anyone about it, so I know nothing about it.

# 253 – Return To Dinorwic – Film Shots

I’d promised myself that I’d shoot more film in 2012, so the first proper opportunity I had was Dinorwic. As described in previous posts, I took along a digital compact, and two film cameras. Not ideal, but at least the X10 is small enough to slip into a waist bag and is out of the way.  I hate neckstraps on cameras, so I have wrist straps on my SLR’s which is fine when you’re using one, but when you’ve got two, it become a pain in the arse. Still, you make your bed and you’ve got to sleep in it.

In the two cameras I used two different types of film – Kodak Ektar 100 in the F80 with a 28-105 lens, and Kodak BW400CN in the F100 with a 20mm lens. Ektar I’ve used before on my last visit and was quite pleased with the results, while I’ve been using chromogenic black and white films such as BW400CN, XP2 and the like for years, if nothing else for convenience as they are C41 process.

I’d originally though about using the colour film to bring out the colours in the scenes I shot, but the colour pallete of Dinorwic is so limited, that I wouldn’t have taken many shots if I’d have stuck to that plan. So, I ended up using them both side by side. In retrospect, Ektar was probably too slow a film for the conditions as it’s speed is 100 ISO, and at times I was struggling for light as I was not using a tripod. No such problems with the BW400, especially with the short focal length lens.

Would be nice to have had two F100′s, it’s just a nicer camera to handle than the F80, which arguably is a bit small for me. Not that I’ve got excessively large hands, just that the F100 fits better.

I do like the Colour shots, and was surprised at how well it managed to cope with how well it handled the light, although, colour negative film does have very good dynamic range.

Interestingly, the feedback I’ve had seems to favour the black and white ones.

# 252 – Return To Dinorwic – Details

Something I try to do when exploring somewhere is to go close in and pick out the smaller details. Not only does it give some variety to the wider landscapes and architectural shots, it allows for a bit more creativity and to look closer at textures, shapes, etc. If you read the Geotopoi blog, some of these may look familiar!

# 251 – Return To Dinorwic – Compressor House

Now this was an interesting surprise. I’d previously only explored the upper levels of the quarry, but down in the lower levels was another compressor house. It was not as exposed as the Australia Level building, and as  such was in better condition. It was also much more accessible as it had a decent footpath running past it. Well, decent in as much as it was recognisable as a footpath and wasn’t at a 35 degree angle for a mile, but was still pretty damned steep, between the hairpin bends. Still, it did make it less arduous to get to and from, and was a worthwhile diversion on the way out of the quarry.

It was of a similar layout to the upper plant, with two compressors in adjacent buildings.

# 250- Return To Dinorwic – Australia Level Part 2

Throwing caution to the not inconsiderable wind, I decided to continue wandering along the Australia level, if nothing else to see if there was a less difficult way down. Seeing some buidlings ahead, I wandered over to see what they were. Various bits of scrap littered the grass outside which piqued my curiousity, and inside I found some quite substantial machinery. This was a large industrial compressor that was used to generate compressed air for the upper levels of the quarry, to power penumatic drills for drilling the rock. All round the quarry was evidence of the steel pipes that took this air to where it was needed, and I hadn’t realised just what they were.

The machinery was quite substantial, and I did wonder why it hadn’t been broken up for scrap and shipped back down the incline when the quarry closed. Maybe the cost of doing that was more than the scrap value back in 1969, but the opportunity was missed and now it will likely be there forever.

Big compressor. I remember making a miniature version of this in the machine shop at college. It was only 6 inches high, whereas this thing was about 12 feet high.

Not a steam engine, but a compressor.

As I wandered, I noticed the shattered remains of some steps down to the gallery below. Carefully picking my way down what was now just a slope covered in slate rubble, I quickly realised that although there was another winding house and incline on this slope, I’d no idea where it went to, or if it would take me back to where I wanted to be. Erring on the side of caution, I decided to return the way I came.

Making my way back to the incline, I braved the slippery, near 45 degree incline, with it’s wet slate and grass. Using my two walking poles to reach ahead of me, I scrambled down with only one slip. Not sure if it was any slower coming down, but it was certainly less physically demanding.

A smaller inclined plane used to connect to an intermediate level.

Could I get back down in this direction? I found out later that yes I could, but the route down looked only marginally less precarious than the C3 incline.

# 249 – Return To Dinorwic – Australia Level Part 1

Climbing the incline is hard work. I’d put the angle somewhere between 30 and 45 degrees, and although there are some crumbling stone steps in sections, the rest of it is a combination of grass and loose slate. The gradient is relentless, and unless you are a Nepalese Sherpa or are seriously fit, it’s probably impossible to do in one go without a break. As I struggled to the top of the incline in increasingly wet and windy conditions, I felt a degree of satisfaction at having made it to the top. Distance wise, it’s probably less than a mile top to bottom and I felt a little foolish for not having made it last time. I don’t think I realised just how close I was in 2009, but that’s hindsight for you.

Line Shafting

As I left the shelter of the winding house, I realised just how wet and wild it was, with the rain blowing almost horizontally past me. I made for the saw mill for some shelter, but the lack of a roof afforded me only limited respite. Instead, I wandered into a small building next door, which had no windows and the majority of it’s roof left. Perching on a rock on the floor I ate my well deserved dinner and rested my aching legs in the relative dryness of the little building.

Vanishing Point

Back outside, the wind had not relented, and I began to get concerned. Although it wasn’t strong enough (yet) to blow me off the edge, I still had to get back down again, and the incline was not only exposed and very slippery, but also relatively narrow and with little if anything to hold onto. Still, I was here now, I thought, make the most of it while I can, and then get the hell off this mountain.

There are lots of gaps in the interior wall, presumably for east access to the railway lines that ran in the building.

The saw mill was much bigger than I’d realised, and other than the lack of slates on the roof, was reasonably intact, with all the cutting tables still there, blades still on the saws, and all the line shafting still in place.

Teeth

Alone on the exposed galleries, it made me appreciate the harsh working and living conditions faced by the quarry workers in years gone by. Sure, the wind was strong when I was up there, but it wasn’t strong enough to cause me any problems. But the prospect of being up there in really bad weather was scary, especially given the lack of warm, waterproof clothing like I was wearing. Reg Jones book on the quarry tells of the miners just putting sackcloth over their shoulders.

Come home to a real fire? I’m sure that this would have been most welcoming on a wet and windy day.

Several things struck me about this building. First, that such a large factory would be built 1000 feet up a mountain seemed slightly mad, although I can see the logic in finishing the slates up here so that disposal of the waste would be easier, and second, that all this had been left to just rust away. I know that there was an auction of all the plant once the quarry closed, I can only presume that the equipment was either out of date or it was uneconomic or just too damned difficult to bring back down the hill. Either way, it’s going to be up there now until it just falls apart, which will probably be hundreds of years off!

# 248 – Return To Dinorwic – The Inclined Plane

Like my previous visit, the quarry was shrouded in mist, only this time it didn’t clear. This trip though I was determined to reach the Australia level as well as see a few other bits and bats I’d not seen before. Not knowing the ‘easier’ way, I simply went straight up the fearsome C3 incline again, but rather than explore the intermediate galleries, I made my way to the halfway gallery for a rest and a mooch, before the assault on the steep incline. I believe there are some steps in the western side of the quarry which would have taken me there, but although I’ve since been told of their whereabouts, ascending the incline was an excellent substitute for my regular Friday afternoon visit to the gym!

Unlike last time, I brought along two walking poles, a really handy thing to have on a steep climb (although they got in the way a bit when I was taking pictures), and with their help, plus an improved level of fitness over my 2009 visit, I reached the top of the two inclines. Worryingly, the wind was picking up, and the rain starting to come down quite hard – another lesson learned from last time was to pack waterproofs although proper walking gear is essential if visiting the quarry anyway.

Not much had changed from my visit three years ago, other than one of the rubbish wagons I photographed last time had now been pushed / blown down a slope (which would have taken some doing).

Suitably rested, I made for the really difficult section of the incline!