The time had arrived to put those hours of planning into action. I had chosen Thursday 31 March (1966) and at 19 years of age not being old enough to vote (it was reduced to 18 four years later) in that day’s General Election didn’t delay my departure, having briefly visited home after work. Harold Wilson’s Labour Government had increased its majority from the previous election held a mere seventeen months earlier from five (which had been reduced to one resulting from by-election defeats) to ninety-six. That month had also seen a great many protest marches throughout the USA against involvement in the Vietnam War while back here Pickles the dog had recovered the stolen World Cup trophy wrapped in newspaper in a South London garden and Beatle John Lennon had made his infamous ‘we are more popular than Jesus’ remark.
The Walker Brothers’ The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore, holding the number-one spot for four weeks, seemed somewhat prophetic as the weather was cold and, as I was to discover later in the trip, deteriorating rapidly. Putting all that to one side the plan was to survive on the railway system for four consecutive nights – my lengthiest voyage into the unknown to date. Was I going to succumb to sleep without warning – missing stations I should have alighted at? Would I have the stamina to last the course or have to return home earlier than anticipated with my tail between my legs – foregoing the completion of my itinerary? All these questions are what concerned parents worry about and mine were no exception. These concerns, however daunting, were far from my mind as the adrenalin and excitement of the possibilities that awaited me foreshadowed any apprehensions I might have had. The prime motivation for this bash was the London Midland Region (LMR) timetable changes, heralding a considerable reduction in steam-powered passenger services, coming into operation just weeks later – the NER section being a twenty-four-hour ‘taster’.
I headed north that night out of the building site of Euston (it was being redeveloped in connection with the WCML electrification – the historic Doric arch being a notable casualty) on the 22 35 sleeper departure for the Cumbrian coast resort of Whitehaven. This nine-hour train journey was one of the casualties of the timetable change and was the sole surviving passenger service over the Cumberland coastline north of Barrow with steam. Changing at Whitehaven onto a DMU for the short distance to Workington after a shed bash I continued on over the doomed scenic Lake District line (closed three weeks later) via Cockermouth and Keswick to Carlisle. Because of its strategic location, Carlisle was made a key station by the Romans who established it to serve the forts on their coast-to-coast Hadrian’s Wall, and although visiting it on many occasions during the final years of steam this day was the only occasion I ventured out of the station. Guided by my ever-present Ian Allan’s British Locomotive Shed Directory, a publication constantly referred to in order to access sheds and cross cities, a visit to both sheds at Carlisle (Kingmoor and Upperby) was undertaken during the six hours there.
I have documentary proof of my visits, i.e. cops at both sheds but only photographs from Upperby – perhaps, with no permits for either shed, the Kingmoor foreman was less approachable. A tired and weary gricer* then boarded the 16 37 departure from Carlisle for Bradford. This 105-mile stopping service via Appleby and Skipton had become, together with the 15 40 opposite way working, the last all-year booked steam-operated train over the MR route to Yorkshire. The three-coach train had Kingmoor’s Black 5 45254 in charge rather than an expected Brit, the near four-hour journey calling at all the short-platformed, dimly lit stations high in the Pennines. In the gathering gloom with worsening weather conditions (in the form of thickening persistent falling snow) it somehow heightened the sense of adventure not known outside my usual home territory of the SR – night-time journeys there often accompanied by the reassuring glow of lights from the frequently passing EMUs. Nostalgia was provided for me courtesy of the short-wheelbase London Midland & Scottish (LMS) carriages with steam heating seeping from every possible orifice throughout the train.
The topography of the line (described in Chapter 9) was far from my thoughts that bitterly cold night. When planning this trip I hadn’t taken into consideration any climatic variations and was becoming slightly concerned as to how I was to keep warm over the next sixty-odd hours, particularly at night. I reasoned that most of the time I would be on trains and, back then, waiting rooms at main-line stations were always open, albeit often without heating. After a surprisingly on-time arrival into Bradford Forster Square station, an hour’s fester resulted, disappointingly, in the same locomotive, having been turned and serviced at the nearby Manningham shed, returning to work the 13½ miles to Leeds on the 21 30 departure for St Pancras. Unlike nowadays when Forster Square dispatches only local services, back then you could catch trains for Birmingham, Devon, Carlisle and, as the case that night, London St Pancras. After a short half-hour journey the vista of Leeds, the once great seat of the clothing trade, was upon me.
The present day Leeds City station started life in 1869, initially called New Station, as a joint enterprise between the London & North Western Railway (LNWR) and NER. Situated at the end of a mile-long connection carried entirely on viaducts and bridges the twelve-platformed station itself was partially built over the River Aire. Resulting from rationalisation in 1938 involving the closure of the adjacent Wellington Street station, it was renamed Leeds City. In 1967, in connection with the closure of Leeds Central, which encompassed the replacement of the 100-year-old bridges over the Leeds and Liverpool Canal, the opportunity was taken to construct a new concourse and, bucking the trend, build an overall roof. In 2002 a further rebuilding project took place with the construction of additional approach tracks and an increase to seventeen platforms. A recent government authorisation (2013) of a new southern entrance spanning the River Aire certainly vindicates the station’s hierarchy as being the third busiest (after Glasgow Central and Birmingham New Street) outside London.
Back to 1966 and on that evening’s journey I stayed aboard the train from Bradford – the delights of protracted waiting time there being deferred to the early hours of the following morning. The train had reversed and was taken forward from Leeds by Peak D84. This diesel was an example of the 173-strong Sulzer Type 4 class which, because the first ten were named after mountains, became known to all as Peaks. Over recent years they had displaced steam over former MR routes between St Pancras/Bristol to Derby and the North East. Travelling south to Sheffield, I was captivated by scenes I had never viewed before – passing en route through the industrial heartland of Britain. The night sky seemed ablaze, this illusion being caused by the reflection from the many furnaces at steel mills adjacent to the line. Together with power stations emitting vast clouds of dirty smoke the panorama viewed on the journey was completely alien to a ‘southerner’.
Sheffield, situated at the confluence of rivers Don and Sheaf, is renowned throughout the world for its production of cutlery, made from locally manufactured steel back then but nowadays more reliant on cheaper imports from Sweden. Another, perhaps less well-known, event at Sheffield is that it is where the World Snooker Championships are held each year at the Crucible Theatre. There is a standing joke among railway-orientated snooker fans that to access a colour you had to get past a red – a reference to Sheffield signalmen’s regular delaying tactics for all trains approaching the station!
Sheffield Midland station, opened in 1870, was the fifth and last station built in the city centre. Expanded in 1905 with two extra platforms and new frontage, Second World War damage put the roofs beyond economic repair and they were eventually removed in 1956 and replaced with utilitarian low-level awnings.
In 1970 Sheffield’s other main station, Victoria, closed and the remaining Penistone-routed services were diverted there. I had travelled here that night to catch what was indicated in Roger’s book as being a steam-operated service, the 02 00 departure for Leeds. It was a two-hour wait and while the waiting room had a coal fire it didn’t appear to have any effect on my numb body – the welcome sight of one of Holbec
k’s Black 5s, 45204, bringing the stock in half an hour before departure answering my prayers. Unfortunately it was only a temporary respite from the cold and once more, after a 03 30 arrival into the draughty funnel they call Leeds City, further body-chilling temperatures were endured. Unlike stations such as Crewe and Carlisle, where a great many periods were to be spent during the early hours over the next few years, Leeds City was devoid of any all-night refreshment room, and although the station had a waiting room it was located adjacent to the concourse, well away from the platforms. That was no good for an enthusiast – you had to be positioned where the trains were running should something unusual, e.g. steam vice diesel, turn up. No gain without pain – when daybreak arrives it will all have been worth it I tried to convince myself.
With daybreak arriving and having supped a cup of tea and devoured some compressed day-old sandwiches for sustenance, it was with a mix of apprehension and excitement that I was about to head for pastures new. I was tired and although Peak diesel D33 working the 05 58 departure, the overnight St Pancras/Bradford Forster Square, offered some respite from the cold I was somewhat concerned that many steam services may have already succumbed to increased use of the many newly delivered Type 2 Sulzer diesels frequently seen in the area. Eventually totalling nearly 500, these machines were referred to by steam followers at the time as ‘Splutterbugs’ because of their rasping erratic exhaust – younger enthusiasts, however, have awarded them the nickname ‘Rats’ as they were perceived to have overrun certain parts of BR (the Scottish equivalents being ‘Mac Rats’!).
Over to Bradford’s Forster Square station and another small history lesson is due. The first station at Bradford was sited close to this location and opened by the Leeds and Bradford Railway in July 1846. After the Midland Railway swallowed up this small independent concern seven years later, the station was rebuilt only for it to be once again redeveloped in 1890 with six platforms, an overall glazed roof and an accompanying hotel. In 1924, after the spacious gardens with its statue of the nineteenth-century politician William Edward Forster were opened nearby, the station gained its present name of Forster Square. Nothing much changed until the 1960s when, similar to Sheffield, the overall roof was replaced by utilitarian ‘butterfly’ awnings. The line in from Shipley was truncated in 1990 when a new three-platformed station, electrified in 1994, was built on the western side of the former station. The old station was later demolished to make way for the Broadgate shopping centre, which, resulting from the early ’90s recession, was never constructed, the site initially used as a car park prior to the present tax office being built there. Part of the screen arcade that fronted the 1890 station, together with the Midland Hotel, remains, becoming, in 2005, much more visible, when the city centre redevelopment began and Forster House was demolished.
Returning to that cold morning in March, rescue (from a possible succession of diesels) came in the form of Manningham’s Fairburn 42093 on the 07 30 Forster Square departure for London. Having taken this service through to Leeds, the sparsity of trains meant I was unable to return to Bradford for the following 08 50 departure, causing me to alight short on a returning Bradford service at the intermediate triangular platformed station of Shipley – waiting over half an hour for what turned out to be her now-preserved sister 42085. So far so good. Noting that just one train per day out of Harrogate was red-lined in my timetable as being steam operated, I travelled the 18¼ miles there for, respectively, the catch of the day – in the form of York-allocated B1 61199. She was working the 11 40 ‘portion’ from Harrogate to Leeds Central en route to London Kings Cross. That year’s timetable changes, which were to inflict so much disappointment during the follow-up bash two months later, saw the cessation of steam on this Harrogate train. My time within North Eastern Region was coming to an end because, as previously mentioned, the WCML services were to undergo a dramatic reduction in steam workings within weeks and I was off over there later that day. There were, however, several more services to investigate. These were the Leeds/Bradford to Carnforth/Morecambe via Skipton services – destined for dieselisation within weeks. For the next few hours I station-hopped between Leeds/Bingley/Skipton and Hellifield – catching runs with four different Black 5s, two of which were from the soon-to-be-closed Lancaster Green Ayre shed. A bonus caught up in all this was Kingmoor’s Brit 70040 Clive of India on the balancing train to yesterday’s all-station stopper over Ais Gill – the 15 40 Bradford Forster Square to Carlisle. So I went on my way to the LMR – the following day’s chaotic running and snow-blocked Shap being another story! Summing up my first visit to the NER – in just twenty-four hours I had caught ten locomotives from four different classes through areas never travelled before. It had all the potential of many new haulages and I vowed to return as soon as funds would allow.
Note
* The word ‘gricer’ was one of the more printable pseudonyms accredited to us enthusiasts. I have uncovered two theories as to its origin. You can either believe that it emanated from trainspotter Richard Grice, who became legendary for travelling the entire BR network, or from two Manchester Locomotive Society members on holiday on the Durham moors who, having ‘copped’ two grouse, termed the word grice as being the plural of grouse. The comparison (between the animals and enthusiasts) is that, to the casual observer, they appear to be ‘wondering around aimlessly’ – in the latter case their habitat being station platforms! You choose.
5
THE LAST REMAINING OUTPOSTS
HAVING MADE A stab at obtaining runs with steam in the NER area, perhaps now is the time to summarise what was available to me. Before delving into the matter the reader has to appreciate that all the information contained within both this and the following chapter has been unearthed whilst undertaking extensive research for this book, i.e. was not known about at the time. It was only by updating my Ian Allan Locoshed Book months after events had occurred (i.e. which sheds had closed to steam or which locomotives had been withdrawn or transferred away to freight only locations) that I had any hope of keeping abreast of the continually fluctuating steam scene. As for real-time visits to the area it was very much hit and miss. Surprising appearances by locomotives I had listed as belonging far away, together with services not known to have been dieselised, led to extraordinary highs and lows in a chaser’s life. By the April of 1966 only seven Motive Power Depots (MPDs) remained that had booked steam passenger work and a brief summary of their allocations now follows:
Tweedmouth (52D), located on the ECML just south of the Scottish border, was responsible for the provision of power, out-stabled at the sub shed of Alnmouth 32 miles to the south for the few remaining steam duties on the 3-mile Alnwick branch. Both Tweedmouth and Alnwick closed to steam in June 1966.
Leeds Holbeck (55A) was located about half a mile south of Leeds City station. It was responsible for the remaining steam-operated services out of both Leeds stations to Morecambe (shared with LMR sheds), Harrogate, Sheffield and Doncaster. It was the shed’s provision, during their Indian summer of ’66, of their Jubilees for the three Scottish services via Ais Gill each Saturday that is best remembered. The shed, with its half-dozen LMS tanks, also shared responsibility with Manningham/Low Moor for the Bradford portions to both Forster Square and Bradford Exchange – its stud of eighteen Black 5s, however, standing in for any shortfall. Often providing replacement steam power for rescuing trains on the Trans-Pennine services when the Peak/Brush Type 4 DLs got into trouble, the shed also serviced the many LMR steam incursions into the area. After the cull in October 1967 (when officially 55A closed to steam!) just two Jubilees, 45562 Alberta and 45593 Kolhapur, together with K1 62005 were kept on the books – ostensibly for rail tours and/or preservation. The remaining months of 1967 saw Holbeck continue to deal with steam incursions from the LMR together with the regular 17 47 FO Manchester Exchange and 23 38 SuO Liverpool Lime Street locomotives. Into 1968 and, against all odds, the 03 32 Leeds to Halifax (for Manchester) remained steam powered, in the f
orm of a Newton Heath Black 5 until that May.
Farnley Junction (55C) shed was located on the former LNWR route 2 miles south of Leeds at which an alternative route to Huddersfield via Cleckheaton and Heckmondwike diverged. The shed had an allocation of just three Jubilees and five Black 5s for passenger traffic. With the shed’s closure on 23 November 1966 the two remaining Jubilees (Sturdee having been withdrawn in August) and three of the Black 5s were transferred to Holbeck – the balance going to the freight depot of Stourton.
Normanton (55E) shed was perhaps one of the more viewable sheds. Situated just north of the station itself, the majority of occupants could easily be seen from passing trains. Most of its workload was freight orientated – the only two passenger departures it had to provide for being the 04 25 for Rochdale and the 07 06 for York (04 20 ex-Manchester). An LMR-allocated Black 5 worked the latter train to Normanton from where, judging from the variety of power provided, it seemed to cause the foreman a headache. Anything from LMS tanks/Flying Pigs/Black 5s to LNER B1s were sent out for the 24½-mile onward journey to York. Until March 1967 only two passenger locomotives (Fairburns 42083 and 42149) were on the shed’s books. After that date, resulting from displacement elsewhere, the allocation swelled, peaking in July 1967, to eight tanks and five Black 5s – all being condemned in that October’s NER cull. Steam servicing facilities were kept, however, for visiting LMR-based locomotives until the shed’s closure (to steam) in January 1968.
Riding Yorkshire's Final Steam Trains Page 3
