Of Police, ramps and Harlow.
25th April 2021
Q: What have 'The Prisoner' and Harlow in common? A: Read on
It has been a long hot week here in Derbyshire and other points north, south east and west. I managed to get a day in the workshops on Monday and cracked on with the loco for Alstom, getting the control desk stripped down and commencing to remove all the old wiring installation. This was a loco I was never proud of - we were trying to finish it at a time of severe cash flow in the last months of YEC before Barclays Bank killed us off twenty years ago. To some extent I have a chance to put a few bits right: the only down-side to that being that Alstom are one of those companies that expect to take over 60 days to pay. Anyway, the day was enlivened by the passage of a train! No, Peak Rail hasn't resumed passenger operation, this was a works train propelled by D8 - rather an over-sized machine for a gross load of about 120tons. Anyway, the rest of the week has been taken up with transport.
On Tuesday I met up with Adam and Ian in York to collect a wagon. Now, I have certain memories of York. Years ago I organised the move of a Sentinel 100hp 4wVBT from the NYMR to York museum. It was Sunters in those days and the full story is a bit too long to re-tell here, but I can remember the Police escort moving cars to one side on Leeman Road as the lorry crept through the 'tunnel' by the station with only a few inches to spare. Our original destination had been what today is called the Peter Allan building, but scaffolding occupied that area and I had been told on my arrival that we must unload instead in the main car park. So as the lorry emerged into the sunlight I walked into the road and advised the driver of the change of plan. I was at that time in jeans, 'reefer' jacket and woolly hat, yet one of the Policemen came over, saluted me, and asked for instructions. I explained that we had been re-directed further up and with a 'right-ho' he proceeded to direct more cars to pull over and make way for the low loader to get further up Leeman Road. That was about 40 years ago, and you don't get a police escort to enter York any more.
Had I known, I would have phoned ahead and ensured that today's access gate was open and ready to receive us: as it was Adam arrived a few cars ahead of me and proceeded into the yard in front of the Peter Allan building, which is now somewhat different to how I remember it. I did a quick exploratory trip up Leeman Road and found the entrance we actually needed, and contacted the Rail Traffic manager who said he'd be over to unlock the gate in a few minutes. And so he did, and as soon as he phoned back I raced up again with the van just ahead, (I assumed) of Adam following. Adam meanwhile had turned the unit round ready to follow me, but it meant an acute turn to get out and back up Leeman Road, not so simple with a low loader even with rear-wheel steering. As I waited anxiously, suddenly a Police car with blue flashing lights appeared and I thought 'just what we need...' but then realised that actually it was directing traffic over to let Adam through. As the new entrance involved an acute turn back, my instructions were to continue to the main entrance and turn back at the little roundabout there, so I was hand-signalling this to Adam as the Police car pulled alongside me and the window wound down. The officer enquired what was needed and I explained whereupon he proceeded to hold traffic back further while Adam got up and returned. It seems that chivalry and helpfulness is alive and well in the police forces of York.
The object of our journey was sitting waiting for us. A 16Ton mineral wagon which has been donated to our good friends at Midsomer Norton. Having plenty of ground clearance a shorter than usual ramp was more than adequate which made life easier and the job quicker. The Policeman reappeared - it turned out he was BTP - and asked how long we'd be. I said about and hour and a half (which is our usual time for loading a loco) and he indicated he'd return to assist our departure. But I had of course not allowed for the shorter ramp, nor the time saved by not needing to chain down anywhere near as much as a loco safely requires. Consequently we had the wagon on, secured and the unit reconnected in barely an hour. Adam opted to back out on to Leeman Road and achieved this despite the traffic and long before our friendly BTP officer returned. As I headed back down the A64, I felt guilty.
I had planned to leave them to it on Wednesday and catch up on paperwork, but Ian had his second 'jab' booked so instead I had an early start and as there was little point in taking the van, I arrived at silly o'clock in the morning at the HFS yard to ride with Adam. Midsomer Norton was reached a little later than planned, but with the usual faces pleased to see the arrival and the 08 with barrier wagon at the ready, we had soon discharged the wagon to its new owners and returned north.
Back at the yard I had a brief look at the 'new' trailer acquired with an eye to carriage moves, and we re-jigged my trailer rails ready to carry a rather longer vehicle than hitherto. Thus first thing the following morning I was back at Loughborough, building a longer than usual ramp to load the chassis of ex GW 2-6-2T 4141. In contrast this load took much longer than our usual 1.5 hours, but by lunchtime it was on board and we headed off for the Epping Ongar railway, which was reached about 4pm, and off by half-five.
As I had headed into North Weald I was low on diesel and was going to stop at the (one and only) petrol station but it was busy, so thought I'd leave it until I departed. To my chagrin, as I left it was closed for a tanker delivery and as I didn't fancy paying the extortionate prices charged by Service areas I opted to head into Harlow on the other side of the M11.
Finding some fuel and a bite to eat was simple, but the roads were almost grid-locked with evening traffic (lockdown? what lockdown?) so I headed farther into Harlow planning to turn left for Epping and get back to the M11 from that direction. But Harlow is rather like Hotel California - y'know, check out any time you like, but you can never leave. All signs pointed to the Town Centre or miscellaneous desirable estates (it was once a New Town) and places outside the boundaries didn't seem to be connected by road. I had visions of going round and round the dual carriageways unable to escape. All in all getting out of Harlow in a meaningful direction did take rather longer than I had anticipated; actually long enough that the traffic had dissipated by the time I returned to the motorway junction. I got home with enough energy to climb into bed: fortunately Adam had nominated a slightly later start to Friday.
So it was back out again on Friday, heading to Burton-on-Trent and Nemesis Rail to collect a christmas-tree'd 08. Loading was uneventful, the journey to the destination something of a Cook's tour owing to route restrictions and its unloading slowed by heat and a certain amount of the' novelty having worn off'. You will note from the photo we were alongside a metal recycling skip.
Those of you who know my well-founded dislike of these locos can be assured I would just have happily unloaded it into the skip.
The weekend has been spent at the workshops but to be honest, with little of photographic interest. The PCV was sold about a year ago with a condition that it was to leave Darley Dale by the 31st December. That it is still here over 3 months after that deadline is causing us severe indigestion, emphasised by a shunt on Saturday morning which demonstrated barely a foot of clearance in the headshunt. It was brought over to unload it (we'd had various bits under cover inside and emptying was long overdue too) including Cheedale's old torque converter and a number of woodworking machines acquired 16 months ago by Dr Ben. The operation to empty it has taken most of the weekend, aided and abetted by Phil G (in the area for a job interview) and Jagger, interspersed with visitors on both Saturday and Sunday, including one who assures me that Monday isn't Monday without reading this blog over his morning coffee and another passing by whilst distributing timetable leaflets in our area for a certain railway that operates out of Wirksworth. But the PCV is now empty and I even managed to get to carry on with work on the Alstom loco.
The Peak Railway Association accounts and AGM notice appeared this week, covering the 12 months to the end of May last year, so 11 months ago, barely 2 months into the pandemic lockdown. Like the Peak Rail plc, the PRA is holding a 'closed' AGM but unlike the plc, who accepted questions from shareholders but would only answer direct to that shareholder, the PRA is declaring that it will publish all questions (anonymously) and answer them on the PRA website, a rather more transparent process under the circumstances. Considering these accounts covered a period before the pandemic hit economic activity (save the last 2 months) it is rather disturbing. Income was slightly down. Printing costs for the magazine 24% up. Professional fees - this is not the Audit fee and the term is often a euphemism for solicitors costs - jumped to over £9000 from £1200 the previous year. In short, the company more than doubled its 2018-19 deficit of £5200 to a 2019-20 of £11327. A particular curiosity is in the notice to the meeting. There had already been rumours that Paul Tomlinson, another Director of the PRA who also occupies a seat on the plc Board, was resigning. The notice declares that Messrs R Hallatt, J Statham and P Tomlinson were resigning by rotation but that only Roger H was offering himself for re-election. Why therefore, if Mrs Statham was already planning to stand down at the AGM on the 14th May, did she resign on April 9th? Ah, I sense a germ of a tv series, with PRA Directors whisked off to an Italianate village somewhere on the coast, there to be held in communicado until they confess why they resigned. Though if an Italianate village isn't available, they could always be imprisoned in Harlow.
So until next weekend, I'll leave it there. I'll be back, touch wood, will you? See ya then.