Memoirs of a Railway Volunteer - Part 9

The Chronicles of Rowsley Sidings. Part I.

Before very long we had laid track beyond the turntable pit and built the turnout to split the arrival and departure roads. We had just got as far as laying out the timbers for the turnout leading to the inside of the ashpit, our site for the Matlock truck shed, when other factors intervened.

Arthur Dudson wasn’t happy about a turnout on the inside of the curve: the inner curve would have had to be extremely sharp. Arthur had already redesigned the shed approach curve, which must have been extremely sharp as built by the LMS, about 4 1/2 chains radius and right down to the minimum radius of anything bigger than a Midland 4F. Arthur had managed to get it up to about 8 chains and we had (and have) a deep respect for his wisdom and no wish to argue with him. Finding a new spot for the shed would have been difficult, though probably not impossible due to the curves on the layout. However, we also had to contend with the Marchington Proposals which had now come out into the open. These involved bringing Flying Scotsman to Peak Rail as its permanent home and the commercial development of the Rowsley Shed site as a theme park, operating base and shopping centre by a company to be set up for that purpose by Dr Marchington to earn a commercial return. Plans for developing Matlock were on hold, and the truck maintenance shed was to be rented out to a firm which sold imported “vintage” motorcycles from the USA.

When we finally got to see the plans, Mick and I were horrified. The paid expert consultants had managed to design a steam locomotive shed without coaling or watering facilities, and we really did not like the idea of a shopping centre sharing a building with a locomotive works and running shed with all its smoke dirt and noise. These objections were over ruled for the time being.

We were ordered to cease work on the approach tracks, in case we compromised any grant applications, and the volunteers were hauled off the job tail first, and about as pleased as a tomcat robbed of a mouse. The junta went into an emergency tea drinking session. We didn’t believe in grants, for very explicit reasons. Grants are most likely to be given to charitable organisations for the erection of new buildings under the supervision of an architect on land which they own. Peak Rail had the structure of a commercial organisation with a relatively short term lease. A simple second hand structure would probably cost less than the contribution we would have to make towards something new and elaborate with grant aid. This proposal was a bubble which would burst, but what were we to do to keep the volunteers busy in the meantime?

The one area of the site not reserved for the joint venture proposal was intended for the civil engineers yard. We quickly decided to clear the trees, lay as much track as possible and mark out our territory for the future. We already had the stub of a civil engineers siding pointing in the general direction of the future yard, and this would be linked to the passenger run round by its own crossover and extended into a fan of up to five sidings. If we got the chance to build a shed there, so much the better. ( This idea was later taken up by the LMS Carriage Association.)

Andy Bodden was involved in salvaging crossing timbers from Manchester, and some of these went into the new crossover. The T.A. continued to visit on training exercises, and the area for the civil engineers sidings was cleared in record time. This left us with a huge number of stumps to dispose of, and it was about this time that we developed the “mega-roaster”. The simplest and cheapest way to get rid of old tree stumps is to burn them. The problem is that they are rather damp and covered in soil. If you throw them on top of a normal fire, the soil falls off and tends to put the fire out. It can take three or four attempts to dispose of stumps in this way, and by now we had had a lot of practice. We also had a lot of rotten sleepers.

The technique which evolved was to place a couple of sleepers on the ground, about six feet apart, drop a couple more across them, and a couple across them again. Then add at least two layers of six sleepers apiece with nice even spaces between them. Build a fire of sticks on the downwind side and retire smartly. Begin piling stumps on top with the JCB. Within minutes this will produce roaring flames several feet high. However the soil falls into the void under the middle, and more stumps can be piled on. It works perfectly well provided a few basic rules are observed – do not light within 60 feet of anything inflammable, do not try to work upwind of the fire and allow at least a week for the embers to cool down.

Meanwhile Steve Ryszka had been lobbying on our behalf at Doncaster, and had been able to persuade the manager at Marishes Road depot that Peak Rail would be the ideal people to remove some redundant trackwork there. Some of it was badly buried, but the bits which could be got at included a turnout, three buffer stops and about 150 yards of track. It had been out of use for a very long time, and a lot of the chairs had burst under the pressure of corrosion between the rails and the chair jaws.

One length of track had a portacabin sitting across it. I borrowed the rail saw and cut through the rails at the front and back of the cabin so we could work round it. A lot of the fishplate bolts were buried, but they had been coated in tar and were easy to free off, though rather sticky.

After a number of weekend trips we were ready to arrange transport. This involved one brick grab wagon, two lorries and a crane, which is a fairly expensive combination. Fortunately we had several substantial sales either achieved or in the pipeline, including a particularly large one to the West Somerset Railway. For once I arranged a mid week pick up and took time off work. The recovery crew included Derek Mason and Harvey Coppock.

This particular stage of the operation is always a bit tense. Will enough people show up. Will the plant arrive on time. Will we load it fast enough. There are usually problems of one sort or another, and the question is whether we can put them right faster than they crop up. On this occasion it all went rather well. The redoubtable Mr Salt loaded the crossing timbers and sleepers with his grab and got away. We quickly loaded the plain rails and placed the switches and crossings on the top.

That left the three buffer stops, and we were pushing our luck to get all of them on one forty foot trailer, but we did, though the last one overhung at the rear and I had to unscrew the last sleeper in case it fell off on the way home. This load was a bit of a tangle and drew comment from Mick Thomas when we got back, “you certainly got your moneys worth out of that one”.

The turnout was exactly what was required for the king point at the entrance to the engineers sidings, and the ground had been levelled in advance. The brick grab wagon unloaded the timbers exactly where they were needed, and we had the turnout back together by the end of the following weekend. The first of the engineers sidings was laid almost at once using panels of track which had been taken out of the redundant bay platform.

We celebrated the new siding by splashing out on some extra civil engineers stock. I arranged for the Fund to buy an ex-army pallet van from Andy Goodman, and the Fund also paid for the transport of a very useful weltrol wagon donated by Stocksbidge Steelworks through a contact by Jackie Statham. After a visit to the East Lancashire Railway, I got in touch with Roy Syrett, who owned E1, an ex- Manchester Ship Canal 0-6-0 shunter which used to be at Buxton. This was now outclassed on the East Lancs, and Roy generously agreed to donate it to Peak Rail. The Fund paid for the transport once again.

All this began attracting the attention of the carriage fraternity, who could be seen eyeing up the new sidings with that certain glint in their eyes. We knew the signs from experience, and told them that this was P.W. dept territory, and any coach found in our sidings would be regarded as a donation and cut up for scrap. We felt it wise to take a strong line, as it was essential for future operations that the sidings be kept reasonably clear. Counting from the main line, No 1 siding was for storing engineering stock. No 2 was the craneage road, and the crane needed to be able to run up and down at all times, to load and unload works trains shunted onto No 3. This was the theory at least.

The new sidings took rapid shape. I remember one Sunday we had a visit by representatives of Derbyshire county Council, and laid three panels of track during the course of the afternoon while they were riding up and down on the train. They were very impressed. Soon more material was arriving to stock it. Steve had arranged yet another pillage licence at Wakefield, where all the second hand fishplates were to be removed. I think the scrap ticket cost him £40. There was a large quantity of fishplates in skips, and we soon had them out again. Many of them were heavy duty deep skirted bullhead plates which had recently cost us £12-00 per pair second hand. We were mild mannered men of moderation; we took around 400 pairs of bullhead plates, enough to upgrade every plate between Matlock and Darley Dale, together with every specialised lift, junction, or insulated plate on the premises and a considerable quantity of flat bottom plates. There were so many that the salvage convoy had to make two trips. The depot staff went home at lunchtime on Saturdays, and Vince and myself used a pallet truck to heap up an enormous pile of plates outside the depot gates, on which we sat in the sun and ate our lunch while waiting for the transport to return.

Working in the sidings next to the main line kept us in the public eye, and we enjoyed waving at the passengers and the train crew as they went by. Of course, they smiled and waved themselves, and it began to dawn on me, far more slowly than it should have done, that one of the girls in the restaurant car was remarkably pretty, and she was not waving at us at all. She was waving at me, and I was smiling and waving back.
By the early part of 1998, the first three sidings in the engineers yard were complete, and we were pushing a spine of track back up the shed approach once more. The consultants engaged by the Marchington organisation now proposed the rebuilding of the railway as a commercial enterprise and grants were off the agenda for the time being. Fully commercial railways are expected to raise their own finance on their own projected earnings. Mick and I regarded the whole idea as barmy and fantastic. The scheme involved spending between £100, 000,000 and £200, 000,000, to be raised by developments along the route including a huge tourist complex at Millers Dale and a restaurant set in the cliff face at Monsal Dale. Flying Scotsman was to be based in a special centre of its own at Ambergate. This was to be achieved in two years. Despite our forcefully expressed doubts this project remained at the core of higher management thinking for quite some time. Later reports began to come in that similar Flying Scotsman centres might also to be built at Doncaster and Edinburgh. When some time later a Flying Scotsman company was created I had no inclination to buy any shares, and those who did lost their money.

The important thing in the short term was that the construction team were now free to pursue their activities on Rowsley site. Many years before I had read a book on the County Donegal Railway which described its headquarters at Strabane as a fascinating maze of sheds and sidings. That was how I wanted Rowsley to be, and it was rather satisfying when I was approached by a visitor who wanted to know about “that odd branch which runs off into the trees”. He had been an army officer and remembered such things from his service in Germany, where they normally led to ammunition dumps.

Stocks of materials were starting to run short, and we were still working on an official zero budget. Thanks to Steve Ryzska the unofficial budget prospered and we were content to live on our wits. The Whitwell to Nottingham coal route was being rebuilt and resignalled for passenger traffic as the “Robin Hood” route, and Steve was hell bent on recovering as much equipment as possible during the engineering possessions which covered this work. His declared aim was to stock up with all the signalling required for the entire railway to Buxton. He was being showered with offers of equipment from all directions and we knew it would not last forever. My role was to provide Ye Bandits of Sherwood Forest.

Steve arranged for us to collect the remaining inlet turnout leading to the old Whitwell Colliery site, which I picked up with Vince, Steve and others in the course of a Saturday morning. In general salvage operations or light construction work took pace on Saturdays, and the serious construction work at Rowsley on Sundays.

This was a very professional operation. We deployed a large gang in the correct Hi Viz overalls (loot from Wakefield). Vince, who had the correct certificates to be on the track, erected a safety fence of blue plastic netting on steel pickets (more loot from Wakefield), and stood as official lookout while we took the turnout to bits in the “green” safety zone he had created. The crane loaded the components on the lorry and I paid the transport bill by cheque on the spot (proceeds of sale of loot from Wakefield).

The turnout was rapidly reassembled on the shed approach, and we brought another one up from Matlock, where it had been laid at the town end of the platform as the start of a possible spur into Matlock station on the up side, at a time when things there were looking promising. The Whitwell turnout formed the first half of the crossover from the outlet road to No.1 pit which bypasses the ashpit.

Another operation went less smoothly. We were recovering ground frames from various redundant sidings, which we collected in a hired truck. All went well until we drove into the old Shirebrook depot where the truck sank into loose ballast right up to the axles. It was after dark on a very frosty Sunday night, and by that time there was only myself, Steve, and John Phillips left on the job. There was nothing for it but to jack up the truck, fill in the holes and hope, at which point the truck promptly sank again. John’s language got increasingly salty, eventually we found some planks and matting which spread the load and enabled us to get clear. It was just like one of those old desert war movies, though without the sun and the sand.

Not everyone approved of our activities. Our project to install two train running at Darley Dale was considered to be inappropriate as within two years the railway would be operating to Bakewell, and accordingly passing facilities should be at Rowsley. The view in certain quarters was that the “joint venture company” was going to rebuild the railway with colour light signalling, and that all we were doing was cluttering up the railway with scrap metal. On one occasion which rankles even now, we were refused access to the gas cutting set, and had to dismantle a bracket signal at Shirebrook with hammers and cold chisels. It didn’t stop the job, but we should have recovered a lot more equipment, certainly more bracket signals. Without these recoveries it would not have been possible to install two train running at the present time. The ten lever Shirebrook ground frame is being refurbished for potential use at Matlock.

Steve had competition in the salvage stakes from Andy Bodden, who arranged several consignments, mostly of crossing timbers from the Manchester area. One of his deliveries was a ground frame still on its support timbers, which turned up from a demolition job courtesy of the site engineer after Andy arranged transport at very short notice. On these jobs the left hand does not always know what the right hand is doing. Some time later a visitor called at Darley Dale who turned out to be an S&T fitter.

“I remember that ground frame”, he said, “I used to maintain it. Our gaffer went crackers when it went missing. Tell me, how did it get here….”

When Andy’s jobs provided enough timbers for two sets of turnouts we used them to build a crossover from the civil engineers siding to the loop, which made access into the sidings complex much easier. Sleepers remained in very short supply.

We gathered up all the scrap metal on site and sorted it into various grades and we were able to swap the lot for 100 timber sleepers at the Nottingham Sleeper Company. Andy had struck up friendly contact with a track contractor based in Manchester who was prepared to swap the occasional small batch of sleepers for fishplate shims or other small items we had in stock. The contractor would turn up from time to time with a dozen or so sleepers loaded on a small trailer, and often that was enough to complete the next panel. We did actually pay for a small lot of 50 sleepers out of the stock fund, a novel development at that time, one which I hoped was not going to catch on.

As a result of these activities we succeeded in building the locomotive departure road alongside the ashpit, which now came in for some serious study. It had already been dug out, and we had found the shattered remains of the coaling tower legs at the bottom. They were re-buried behind our new loading dock and we hacked out the tree roots which had become lodged in the drains.

Mostly the pit was brick, except for the top foot or so. When it was originally built, or perhaps rebuilt for the old photographs seem to vary a bit, the track had been propped up on brick pillars at every sixth chair, and then concrete was poured underneath the other five, which were secured by bolts left dangling from the chairs into the mould. Old rails had been set into the edge of the concrete, held apart by bolts running through offcuts of galvanised water pipe, which acted as spacers between the rails. Of course the demolition contractors had removed anything of value. The nuts on the chair bolts had been unscrewed or cut off, and the threads had rusted away. The rails in the edge of the concrete had been cut away as well, leaving the bevelled edge where they used to be.

We set out to reverse this. We dug down on the outside of the pit to get at the remains of the side bolts, and punched these out of the galavanised pipes which remained in perfect condition. We also chiselled out the brick pillars before bolting rails to the edge of the concrete once more, through the original holes. We could tell from the marks on the concrete that the chair bolts had been set out for L1 chairs. We had quite a few in stock, but nothing like enough, and the Stock Fund bought the rest. We laid them out on the concrete, and used just about the last of our rails to lay the track. That left every sixth chair hanging in thin air, and we then put bolts in the holes in the chairs and poured concrete underneath. One day the old bolts will have to be core drilled out, but for the present there is enough anchorage to hold the track to gauge for light use. Old Tom has been chiselling out and replacing spalled bricks in the pit ever since and it now looks much improved.

The locomotive shed site made an interesting zero cost project while we looked around for salvage projects and raised money through the stock fund. The share money coming into the company was reserved for buying a shed structure. We concentrated on digging out the first two inspection pits for about 120 feet, the anticipated length of the new shed. No.1 pit had been damaged during demolition, but there were plenty of engineering bricks around for repair work. We dug it out carefully as there was a legend that when the shed closed, the pay clerk threw all the pay checks into the pit. Sadly nothing was found, perhaps the scrapmen found them. No.2 pit was in much better condition, with the brickwork largely intact, and initially we concentrated on this. We worked down the pits hacking out the remains of the old pit timbers with axes and crowbars. The old holding downbolts were wrought iron and in surprisingly good condition after over 30 years in the open. Mick borrowed a
1 1/8” die nut from the 8F group and this was used to clean up the threads lubricated by locomotive oil from the old underground oil tanks nearby!

On clearing the workshop area to the left of No. 1 pit we had found three round steel plates set into the floor. They had filler caps screwed into the centre, and Derek Ankers explained that these led to underground tanks from which oil had been taken by rotary hand pumps. There was a small hidden underground room and we eventually dug out the steps leading to it. Each tank still contained a small amount of oil floating on rainwater, and we skimmed it off.

Incidentally, we searched the pits very carefully as we cleared them as there were legends that quantities of locomotive spares had been buried on the site. I am afraid there was very little truth in that, though odd bits and pieces did come to light from time to time. We did find a Stanier pattern tender axleguard in the turntable pit, and this was handed over to the 8F group and copied to make a pair. It is now fitted to 48624, together with four brass sanding guns which had obviously got knocked off from time to time. We did find a lot of broken firebars, but that was about it. It may be true that the pay clerk threw the brass pay checks into an inspection pit on the last day, but if he did, the scrapmen found them.

The pit timbers on No.2 pit were replaced with the best of our remaining crossing timbers, which were drilled and countersunk before being laid, very precisely by survey, on a bed of lime mortar. Mick made himself a 3” diameter countersinking bit by taking an old 3” metalwork bit from the stock we had acquired from Resco many years before. He ground a square end onto the taper shank so that it could be driven by a petrol wrench, and welded a smaller drill onto the front. This contraption wobbled and spat splinters everywhere – but it drilled the timbers and did it accurately and quickly. No.2 pit was re-laid with flat bottom rails bolted onto plates from Gridweld which we had kept in store for ten years in case they came in handy.

Once the rails were back on the pit it became clear that it was not perfectly aligned with the ashpit; there is a slight angle between the two. Whether this represents a surveyors error or an attempt to mitigate the sharp curve of the shed approach, nobody knows.

“The Duke” posed with the track gang on 9th August 1998, the first locomotive on Rowsley Shed for 35 years. It was just 14 months since the Rowsley Extension had opened.

By this time we were getting seriously short of track materials, even though we had dismantled the parcels shed siding at Matlock, but there were just enough left over to begin to build the second half of the crossover, which we had begun with the Whitwell turnout. This involved a considerable degree of improvisation and a lot of extra work and we did not have enough material to finish it. It was only later that I worked out that this was the thirteenth turnout we had built on Rowsley site, which was rather fitting in the circumstances.

However at an early stage our troubles were interrupted. Andy Bodden had been brewing mischief. He had a contact at Willington Power Station, and we made an armed reconnaissance with a ten ton tipper from Matlock Transport. We filled this with chairs, but the real interest was a dump of rail, from which we were given permission to take 40 tons – enough for about a quarter of a mile of track. We also kept a careful eye on the engineers personal store of special turnout chairs; so unfortunately did the engineer, but he let us take enough items to complete one turnout. Once again we had an operation running.

By this time a raid of this kind was second nature, and I rang PP Engineering to arrange two trombone trailers and a crane, specifying a lift of two tons at forty feet, which worked out at a 25 tonner, hire to be paid by cheque on the day, finance to be provided by the Stock Fund. Actually the rail was of generally poor quality, after all that was why it was given away. It was variously bent, worn, sidecut, scaled or in odd lengths. Bends we could straighten, wear didn’t matter too much in a siding. Scale can be chiselled off and odd lengths can be cut into matching pairs. Sidecutting doesn’t matter too much if it is only on one side. However some of these had got the lot. We set to work with crowbars to work through the stack against the clock and picked the best of the worst. At the end of the day 40 tons of assorted rails were stacked neatly at Rowsley.

We were able to go back to building the turnout, and this particular example combined so many problems that it is worth a short essay in its own right. However, at about this time, something else cropped up.

Tim

 

Rowslwy shed site

This is what the shed approach looked like. Main ashpit after first exploratory clearance. Probably 1996.

Tim

 

Rowsley Ashpit, second clearance.

Preparation for tracklaying, by the way, that's me.

Tim

 

indeed tim,memorable times.

the ten lever ground frame was my first choice for matlock,then we ended up reusing the ex glendon north frame out of darley as the box needed to be lessened in weight and it made sense to reuse it as it was a good frame to put straight into the matlock box.

the ten lever ex shirebrook frame has been fettled up and repainted in a very strong coating of paint laquer, ive plans for its reuse at rowsley now when we eventually get the box up from darley as it gives us a nice small frame to fit inside without lugging it all up the stairs again,leaves enough room for the s&t relay cupboard to go upstairs and means we can keep part of the box locked off for visitors while the other remains operational as a shunt frame for morning and evening shutting the stock away.

ideas at present that may change..

by eck you looked young in the picture of you and the lads recovering glendon north!as did mr foster!,who says hi by the way.

dom

 

well info sleepermonster boy. keep it up

 

Tim,

It's been a long time since the last one. Any more tales to tell?

 

Should we start a petition for more memories?

 

I have two or three ideas buzzing around in my head for relatively short stories. "The Last Great Wakefield Raid" in which we sent a very large working party to the Jarvis depot at Wakefield, the sum total of recoveries on the day being one six week old kitten, the second one is "Open Space, the totally spaced out programme", in which we met a BBC film crew on the one hand and Derbyshire's leading home brew whisky manufacturer on the other. A more technical subject would be the design process involved in building Rowsley shed, though that would not be anything like as funny.

Tim

 

What about the Foxfield Railway chair purchase?

 

Your story not mine; I merely hinted that certain people sometimes had trouble counting.

Tim

 

Tales of a Railway Volunteer: An Addendum. Many moons ago someone negotiated the purchase of CS1 chairs from the Foxfield Railway (correct me if i am wrong Tim). Mutant Trading being experts in transport of goods and provision of chattels were recruited by the Purchaser (I'm still right aren't I Tim?) to collect the said chairs from Foxfield. Neither Nigel (Mutant's other "Director") nor I could work out as to why volunteers carefully watched and counted the chairs into the back of the Ford Cargo. On arrival at Darley Dale with the chairs it became clear that the message was relayed that we couldn't count. Hence the interest from the Foxfield team. What Nigel and i did work out was that a 7.5t Ford Cargo fully loaded with CS1 chairs did not like going down Cromford Hill (essence of Ferodo was eminating from the brakes) this may have something to do with the fact that we had got 200 chairs on the lorry - a tadge overloaded me thinks. In my defence (i know a good solicitor) the said organiser of the job did advise us of the approximate weight of a chair - didn't they Tim?