Off track

Hole in the roof.

We were quite sheltered in the lane as it was a valley with high hills either side. The mighty Severn flowed southward through the middle of it slowly eroding itself deeper into the valley floor. The hills either side sheltered us from the the worst of the winds from both east and west, but on occasion the weather blew up or worse; ‘down’ the valley. On the odd occasion when the weather came down the valley it would bring trouble in some form or other, high winds gusting to gale force weren’t unusual, heavy snowfall in the winter also came on the wind from the north and at other times heavy rain. Tonight it was blowing a gale and had already knocked the electricity supply out.

As Lou and I sat there in the candlelight watching the flames from the open fire dance in symmetry to the tune of the wind we began to feel in touch with the elements, a strange feeling when you’re sat in your living room. The occasional whistle of wind down the chimney accompanied by a soot fall and a blow back of smoke atuned your hear and senses to other noises from the garden that were being generated in the mini vortex world it had now become, a tree branch would grind against the fence and creek eerily, a fence panel would rattle before the whoosh as it was hoisted into the air and fly off as if doing gymnastics across the field.

I found myself going over in detail in my mind all the jobs I’d done out there, had I secured all the roof tiles, how many screws held the shed roof down, was the car port sturdy enough to hold up against this raging storm. I donned my jacket and went outside and checked the things that troubled me most, but there was little I could do in this, I could barely stand. I resigned myself to the fact there was little I could do now at this late hour without jeopardising myself, so I went back indoors took off my dripping coat and I sat sipping a malt by the fire. We turned on the transistor radio to take our minds off the worries, it didn’t work, but at least the news of others struggling with the elements too, was an odd comfort.

Lou and I decided to sleep downstairs in the old bedroom this night, we would put Neil’s cot in with us for safety from the possibility of any branches from the huge mountain ash tree that overhung our property being broken off in the wind and falling on us. A lucky precaution indeed.

It was the oddest thing that through all this noise and worry we slept sound in bed that night. I don’t know if it was tiredness or worry, but we did. I was awoken at 5 am by the weirdest sound of someone sawing wood, but shook my head, I must be dreaming and went back to sleep.

Harry was our neighbour directly behind us in the lane. At 9 am Harry could be heard calling over my fence, I peered through the bedroom window into the uncanny darkness and there enveloped in a sea of leaves was Harry by our back gate calling me, I opened the window and told him I was okay and would be out in a moment.

I checked on Neil and Lou, and then quickly dressed in my gardening clothes that I’d been wearing the night before, this was no time for a wardrobe panic, something was wrong. I made my way out through the back door onto our rear yard and saw as I looked up four or five neighbours faces peering down at me from a canopy of leaves and branches. This was surreal, had we all been transported to wonderland, where was Alice I thought. No, this was a huge branch from the mountain ash tree hanging over our hedge and onto my roof, suspended partly on a thick overhead computer cable that straddles the length of our lane from town to the waterworks a mile away. It was actually supporting the main trunk of a huge 4 ton branch, and had taken the sting out of its fall and possibly saved our roof from total destruction. Yay the waterworks and their cable. There was an hole in the roof, thankfully it was just a tiny one!

Our friends were out in Force this morning and all very jovial. At first in my slightly worried state I wondered if this was some sort of sick macabre humour going on, and for a minute felt myself getting angry I hadn’t even had chance to inspect the damage yet!

I should have known better really, they were just relieved we were okay and there really wasn’t much damage to my property at all. There was the odd broken slate, some of the gable timber was slightly broken on the edge and some of the plastic guttering was snapped, so really very little damage had been caused, they were laughing at something else entirely, something that had happened in the early hours while we were all fast Asleep.

It appeared someone had driven down the lane from the far end and found their way blocked by the huge fallen branch. That person whoever they were had simply gone to the back of their car, taken out a saw and cut a perfect car height and width through the tangle of branches, replaced their saw, got in and driven on through. I guess that was the sawing I heard at 5 am. To me that simple act summed up the resourcefulness of the people that lived here in the lane, Class!

The branch that was hanging over our property was like a fully grown tree in itself . The half inch thick main computer cable that held the bulk of it and stopped our roof taking the full brunt of its falling force looked stretched to breaking point, it was essential that we removed the weight sharpish. The consensus was to remove the branches that overhung our roof in the vain hope the bulk of the trunk would fall back from its pivot point back into the lane. Everyone had the chance to test out their little petrol chain saws, they all seemed to own one and attacked the jumble of branches with differing results, some were quite successful working well and methodically to remove the wood, but others were downright dangerous with a chainsaw in their hands, nonetheless after a couple of hours of hard graft the bulk of it was cleared, the plan to use the pivot point to get the bulk of it to drop into the lane worked well, we all stood back as the last few counterbalance pieces were removed and the trunk dropped gently into the lane. It was teamwork and was how things went in the lane at difficult times. The wood was simply shared between us for our log burners. The job took all day to tidy up properly and we all had a good time helping each other. A trouble shared and all that.

The downside was, after a proper investigation into the condition of this wonderful 80ft tall Mountain ash tree, it was declared past saving. The whole tree became firewood within weeks, and left a gaping hole in the backdrop to our home. Suddenly we had sunlight streaming in through the back windows instead of a dank darkness, it’s truly amazing the amount of sky space a big tree takes up. I was sad to see it go as it was there long before us, but the new light and piece of mind was welcome.

This photo was taken after we had cleared a lot of it Away.

Me Left, Harry working and the elusive man from the council roads dept in hi viz rear

 

Stop the train.

Behind our house ran the historic Severn valley steam railway and down the lane we had our own halt where we often stood and flagged down a steam train for a day out in Bridgenorth or Kidderminster, it was a good day out for visiting friends and as we had a local pass we had reduced travel rates, we could travel all day for a few quid if we wanted to. Some days we would simply hop on the train and go to one of the stations along the line for a walk and a meal, it was all very sedate and nostalgic. We were very fond of our big train set in our back yard. It was also nice to remember this line was why our properties were there, it sort of tied us all in as one and we all had an healthy respect for the railway and the volunteers that kept it running.

The railway seemed to accentuate the halcyon day’s of inter war Britain and in turn our neatly painted little wooden cottages seemed to accentuate the quaintness of the railway and the steam trains that trundled past through the trees on their way to nowhere and back. It was as if we lived in a big model railway set up that was made and remained in the 1930’s. To me and lots of people like me, it was idyllic. I remember one sunny day sitting by the river fishing and watching the sun twinkle through the trees onto the dappled river when a castle class steam hauled train went by and thinking to myself that there was probably not another place in the country left so perfectly in another time. I did like our home in the lane.

On occasion they would put on a special train or a war weekend or a diesel gala and the trains would be rammed with visitors all enjoying a nostalgic trip out or showing their grandchildren what life was like when they were young. They were very popular weekends and still are.

One time we had the Gressley Pacific A4 class down For a few weeks. It is a beautiful train of the class that broke the speed record back in 1938, these A4’s are legendary in British railway history, we sometimes had the Mallard down too, but the thing I really loved about the A4’s was the whistle. There was a moment in the evening and if the wind was in the right direction when they blew the whistle in the valley, the haunting sound would travel down the valley on the wind for ages, you could almost hear the whistle passing you before the train, the low almost baritone sound like an upper class English version of an American train whistle seemed to make the valley go still, as if time itself had stopped to stand and watch this marvellous piece of engineering go by in all its graceful snaking majesty. I loved those moments.

One Sunday morning I was out in the lane with my hedge cutter sorting the tangle that was my overgrown hedge when I heard a very unusual loud crack, a second later I heard the unmistakable sound of a big tree falling, the sound was deafening and not very far away, Lou came out and said she thought it was on the railway, so as quick as I could I ran up the embankment to see.

Sure enough it was a very big old oak tree and it was lying across the track completely blocking it. I was just about to go down the line and phone the station when I heard the unmistakable haunting whistle of the union of South Africa, she was coming from the direction of Bridgenorth. I had no time to waste I had to warn her, but how?

I took off my red and check shirt and ran down the line towards the oncoming train waving it like a flag above my head, fortunately there had been a landslip previously and the train had to slow to less than 25 mph at this spot, as the train rounded a bend a quarter of a mile from the fallen tree the driver saw me, he shouted to me to get off the track I moved to one side as I had prepared to do anyway and shouted to him to stop now, there was a tree across the track, he heard me and the gigantic engine was suddenly screaming to an halt, the noise from the side of the track was overwhelming, the wheels screeched and slid, chains rattled, carriages banged on the buffers and steam gushed out from all directions screeching and hissing in unison, blimey, now I felt like I was in a scene from the railway children.

The driver and firemen climbed down to ask what I’d seen and the guard came down the line shouting at me for stopping the train, I lead them around the bend to the huge tree blocking their way and watched their faces as the word ‘ phew!’ Formed in their collective minds. I was just as relieved as they were, I hadn’t expected to be in this position five minutes ago, but somehow I’d climbed the embankment assessed the situation made a decision and stopped the union of South Africa in its tracks and averted a possible crash down the embankment into the valley.

The fireman asked if I had a phone and if he could use it, Neil’s face was a picture as I lead this overall clad soot covered man into our lounge to phone the station, he was convinced he must be the driver and asked if he could go on his train, of course how could the fireman deny this four year old a treat. We clambered back up the bank and he was passed up to the driver over the incredibly massive 7ft high driving wheels of this behemoth and into the furnace like heat of the cab. Neil looked worried so the fireman pushed me up to be with him, I took Neil into my arms and told him he was actually in the cab of one of the greatest trains in history and it was a treat for only the best children in the world. The driver asked if he wanted to pull the whistle, but he was unsure. SO I DID, insert smiley face. I actually pulled the whistle of the union of South Africa A4 Pacific class. Me, myself in the valley, I created that haunting sound. Neil Hated it and cried, ohh!

The track crew were on their way to clear the tree, I comforted Neil and Lou supplied the driver and firemen with a bacon sandwich while we waited. In an hour so they had cleared the tree and the train was clear to go on its way, but before it went the driver came down to thank me and offer a footplate ride to me and Neil into Bewdley. Neil wasn’t having it and didn’t want to go in that scary cab again and I would have felt a tad silly going on my own, so sadly I declined.

The day was saved, I had a an hedge to finish cutting, and dreams of being an engine driver on the flying Scotsman to rekindle.

The railway were very grateful, they sent the local paper to interview me and take photos and then sent complimentary tickets for the Sunday lunch train for me and Lou to enjoy. I got my photo in the paper again and enjoyed a nice meal compliments of the SVR, but best of all, I had pulled the whistle on the union of South Africa and made that haunting sound down the valley. My life was complete.


Not the union of SA, but in the place I stopped it. A manor class I think?

 

I'm glad you're enjoying it. Sometimes as I write I wonder what people think, and if i'm honest if they think I'm self obsessed, but it's just something I have intended to do for a while and thought I'd put the first draft on here in it's basic form and see how it goes for future rewriting on another platform. I like the feedback. Thanks, M

 

Glad you are. I hope it meets your expectations when you do catch up!

Don't work too hard bud

 

I'd really like to listen to that. I wonder if I could do that on my windows laptop somehow?

Thanks for the feedback btw. Really interesting

 

We have to find a way of listening to Matt Berry first

 

RUDE!

 

Edit

Thanks again for the feedback. Always valued

I meant the record run not the engine. Sorry. Wasn't the whole train not just the engine on the London to Edinburgh known as the Scotsman regardless of engine?

 

Yes, that is very true. I may have to rewrite this in part to get that bit right.

In fairness to me, I'm only a part interested steam fan and although I'm not completely clueless regarding the engines, I seem to have some shortcomings in my knowledge, but I did think the record was achieved on the Scotsman run and I did always dream of being the driver. You do know I'm now completely crestfallen and my dream bubble totally popped!