Follow My Tracks

It was cold. Absolutely freezing, I-should-have-picked-my-gloves-up cold. I had come up to The Farm for the weekend and Groverake had been flagged to me as a good, small-scale explore to get me out with the camera. I was not disappointed.

We drove the long way round, through thick low cloud, to the mine and parked by its gate. There’s a footpath that runs through the site, so access was not an issue. The cloud gave the place the eerie feel of a ghost. A half seen presence in the shifting white.

I explored the entrances to the four shafts. Two are vertical and two go back into the hillside. With the amount of rain in the recent days, going down them was not a clever idea, but is certainly one I will pencil in for the summer.

The winch to the site seems to have been relocated. An ancient large-cogged winch that was in the wrong place to have been used for the original shafts but looked to be of similar vintage. I took my photos and looked at a large more recent building. I was certain that I had seen other interesting images of the place, but my hands were cold and I was finding it hard to work the camera. I started to walk back towards the car, but something pulled me back. I turned and walked into the building. I’m glad I did.

In here were the traces of a work force. It’s these small details that make any explore worth while. Gloves and odd shoes littered the floor. Empty, ajar lockers. Odd birds nests separated into above ground and under ground lay empty and barren in their square recesses.

I carefully picked through each room. You could almost see the men emptying their lockers on the day the mine closed. It took me nearly an hour to pick through the place softly. There was a stark contrast between the natural beauty of the moors with the grey of the compound. The men who went down the lifts or into the hills must have looked around them and hoped that they would breathe the air and feel the cold wind against there faces, praying for it every time they went down.

I packed up and walked back to the car. My hands were blue.

I got into university very, very early this morning and slipped into the dark rooms.

Loading the film onto the spool took three attempts. It was one of those mornings where it just wouldn’t work. Eventually it was in the tank.

Developer in. Agitate, tap. Agitate, tap. 11 minutes later, Stopper – 3 mins.

Fixer – ten mins.

Wetting agent – about a minute

Success! West Park on 35mm film in nice dense negatives.

Hang to dry and collect later.

Well I made a stop by WP again. The Absence – Presence project is only five weeks from deadline and so I felt it was time to start taking some photos especially after my last roll of film was a dud. This was to be a film only trip as I felt I had the place well covered digitally. Started in the car park and into the site the usual way and headed towards my usual door.

It was shut. Tight. Looking at the frame the whole thing had been well screwed in. A quick wonder round the block to another usually open door. Same again. Odd I was thinking, for a site that was only a few weeks ago, wide-open to now have two doors shit tight. I walked further into the site and every door and window was boarded. Eventually we found a loose board. Popped it out, scrambled through the frame and avoided a very large hole that any unsuspecting person might fall into.

This was the Occ Health/Art Therapy block. This was cool because it held a few of the key shots I wanted to take. I took them (please let them come out) and started to move back towards the corridor. There was a very large hole and a dresser dropped through it in the usual way towards the corridor. As I edged towards it, the whole floor cracked underneath my feet. I stopped. Edged a little further and then felt the floor start to give. There would be no going further forward that way. A similar story at the other side of the locked doors that are avoided by going over the upper floor.

I was in, but pretty much sealed in. There would be no going further forward today. I took enough photos that I think I could use but not necessarily the photos I wanted to use.

Slipped back out the window and replaced the board behind. Poked my head around the wall and spotted someone in high-vis. Waited for a few mins. De-kitted and caught the breath but not the skipped heart beat. Decided that I had waited long enough, picked up my tripod and strolled towards the figure who was stood next to two others, dressed in black. Explorers.

I politely walked past and wished them good morning. I pointed out the Sec that he should be more concerned about the people stealing the slate and lead than the photographers and made for the way out.

The other two explorers caught me in the car park and informed me that there is now a second sec firm on site and that the site had been pretty much sealed up since the weekend before. I had already really done my final farewell visit to the site so wasn’t too worried but I had hoped to be able to pop back to see specific bits. No doubt I will, but I shall have to tread softly.

T