On the 1st of April 1884 the first train steamed from Queensbury to Keighley. It was a goods train, and for the next seven months, that was all that ran on that line. The first passengers travelled along this stretch of the Great Northern Line on the 1st of November 1884, passing through the fairly short Parkwood tunnel before arriving minutes later at Keighley.
However like many railways, Dr Beeching's cuts meant that by the mid 1960's the line was no more. Now, much of the track has long gone, yet beautiful viaducts and solid tunnels cut through the Yorkshire soil, still soot stained and echoing with the ghosts of a different age. Today's adventure sees the uncovering of the Parkwood tunnel, bricked up and forgotten.
Things started off badly. Through the gloom of the shortest day of the year, it was clear the northern portal was no more.
After speaking to an old lady, she said she thought the other portal may lie somewhere in a forgotten and inaccesible cutting, but she wasn't hopeful we would find it anymore.
Thankfully, she was wrong, but after a difficult descent into the cutting it was clear that this was going to be a few photographs between the bars of the gate into the dripping darkness.
However, the Gods of Urbex were smiling on is today, and we were in.
The tunnel was empty, save for the usual collection of rubbish and rubble.
Looking back to the entrance.
Dripping water echoed everywhere in there, and the walls were damp. Unlike some of the longer tunnels nearby, which had a second tunnel running under the centre of the bore to drain away water, this looked like it has clay pipes at either side. Although fractured in parts, this was still doing a fairly good job.
We carried on, towards the blocked northern portal.
Less rubbish was here as we approached the end wall. The torches picked out a discarded bicycle wheel.
The blocked northern portal was muddy underfoot. Behind that door was the earth we had seen at the beginning of the explore. The door was locked.
We turned round and headed back towards the light, picking our way over the discarded needles at the entrance, and out into the overgrown cutting.