The Summit Tunnel Eastern Portal

 Today, I found myself at a place where history and engineering meet nature's wild beauty: the eastern portal of the Summit Tunnel, nestled just outside of Walsden. It’s a spot that, at first glance, is simply a picturesque railway cutting framed by lush greenery and the dramatic Pennine hills. But looking closer, and listening to the low rumble of a passing train, you can feel the weight of its incredible history.

The series of photos I captured tells a small story of this location. From the first glimpse of the tunnel's mouth hidden amongst the trees to the powerful sight of a train emerging from its darkness, and even a peek at the intricate brickwork of the portal itself. The images show a train heading towards the tunnel, and then moments later, another view captures a different train heading away from it. This constant movement is a testament to the tunnel's enduring legacy as a vital artery of the UK's railway network.

The Summit Tunnel is not just any old railway passage; it's a colossal piece of Victorian engineering. When it was opened in 1841, it was the longest railway tunnel in the world, stretching an incredible 2,885 yards (about 2.6 kilometers) beneath the Pennine hills. It was a groundbreaking achievement of its time, a key part of the Manchester and Leeds Railway that connected these two great industrial cities.

The construction itself was a monumental effort. Digging through solid rock and battling difficult geological conditions, the engineers and navvies of the era faced immense challenges. The tunnel was built with a series of vertical shafts to aid in the excavation, and the sheer scale of the work is hard to comprehend today.

Looking at the photo of the tunnel's brickwork, you can see the craftsmanship that has stood the test of time. The arches and the meticulously laid bricks are a silent monument to the people who built it. The railway lines themselves, shining in the daylight, lead the eye into the deep, dark mouth of the tunnel, a gateway to a different world.

Even today, as I stood on the bridge overlooking the tracks, the sight of a train disappearing into the tunnel or bursting out from it feels special. It’s a connection to the past, a link between the bustling cities and the serene countryside. This tunnel has seen the age of steam, the transition to diesel, and now modern trains continue to use it, carrying passengers and goods through the heart of the Pennines.

It's a reminder that beneath our feet and under our landscapes lie incredible feats of engineering that have shaped our country. The Summit Tunnel is more than just a route; it’s a living piece of history, a testament to human ingenuity, and a stunning landmark hidden in plain sight.

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November 2015: When the Calder Roared in Sowerby Bridge

The air in Sowerby Bridge felt different in November 2015. It was a time of unease, a prelude to a significant weather event that would forever be etched in the memories of those who lived there. These sepia-toned images, with their soft, melancholic feel, capture that moment of heightened tension, a time when the River Calder was not the familiar, tranquil waterway but a powerful, surging force.

Standing at Mearclough Bridge, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer volume and speed of the water. It's a churning, brown torrent, consuming its banks and threatening to reclaim the land it once sculpted. The normally visible riverbed is now a distant memory, and the water level has risen ominously high against the old mill building, its submerged windows like dark, gaping eyes. The sepia filter, far from diminishing the drama, adds a sense of timelessness, as if this isn't just a recent event but a recurring story in the valley's history. The leafless trees, with their stark, skeletal branches, seem to echo the stark reality of the rising water, a silent witness to the river's power.

Further upstream, at the Gas Works Bridge, the landscape presents a similar, unsettling picture. The river, viewed from the pedestrian bridge, fills the entire width of the valley. The usual calm flow has been replaced by a relentless, turbulent rush. In the distance, the iconic chimney on the hillside stands like a lonely sentinel, a silent observer of the unfolding drama. The sepia tone lends a painterly quality to the scene, highlighting the textures of the water and the silhouette of the trees against the grey, moody sky.

Looking towards the bridge itself, the images reveal the water lapping dangerously high against its stone arches. It’s a testament to the bridge's enduring strength and the skill of its builders that it stands firm against such pressure. The river, a character in its own right, is asserting its dominance, forcing us to remember that we are guests in its valley, and it is a powerful host.

These photographs are more than just records of a flood. They are a poignant reminder of the vulnerability and resilience of our communities. They speak of the raw power of nature and the way it can transform the familiar into something alien and threatening. They capture the quiet suspense of a town waiting, a community holding its breath before the events of December would truly test its mettle. These images, softened by time and the sepia filter, are a beautiful and haunting chronicle of a turbulent November in Sowerby Bridge.

I took these pictures on the 15th November 2015, approx. 6 weeks before the Calder Valley was devastated by flooding. They were taken with a Polaroid is2132 camera.

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Brighouse Basin: A Canal-Side Escape in West Yorkshire

The Calder and Hebble Navigation is a vital part of West Yorkshire's rich industrial history, but today, it's also a tranquil and picturesque escape. Nowhere is this more apparent than at Brighouse Basin, a peaceful hub of activity where history and modern-day leisure blend seamlessly.

Approaching the basin, the view opens up to a wide expanse of water, dotted with colourful narrowboats moored along the banks. The basin serves as a perfect base for canal boats, providing a sense of community and a home for those who live on the water. It’s a great place to stop and watch the world go by, as a small pleasure boat might putter its way into the open water, or a family of ducks drifts by in search of a snack.

Walking along the towpath towards the main stretch of the canal, you get a real sense of the waterway's character. The path is well-maintained and provides excellent views of the boats and the surrounding architecture. Old stone bridges span the water, their arches framing the canal as it disappears into the distance. The contrast between the industrial heritage buildings, like the old mill and the striking white silo, and the lush greenery of the trees and bushes is a unique sight.

The canal meanders right through the heart of Brighouse, offering a different perspective of the town. You can see people strolling along the opposite bank, enjoying the sunshine and the peaceful atmosphere. The canal here feels like a hidden gem, a green corridor that provides a refreshing break from the hustle and bustle of the town centre.

Further down the navigation, the canal continues its journey, passing under more bridges and past more moored boats. The architecture varies from traditional stone buildings to modern flats with balconies overlooking the water. It’s a place that caters to everyone—from the serious boater to the casual walker, or anyone simply looking for a quiet spot to sit and enjoy the view. The Calder and Hebble Navigation at Brighouse is more than just a waterway; it's a vibrant, living piece of history that invites you to slow down and appreciate the beauty of a canal-side life.

I took these pictures in August 2018 with a Nikon d3300, clicking on any of them should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

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A Journey to Lumbutts: History and Solitude on the Hilltop

Perched on a quiet hillside near Todmorden, West Yorkshire, Lumbutts Methodist Church is a place that feels deeply connected to its past. This charming stone building, with its gothic details and solemn air, stands as a testament to the community it once served and the history it continues to hold. The story of the church begins with a schism in the local Methodist society. In the 1830s, a serious disagreement, sparked by the controversial installation of an organ in a chapel in Leeds, caused a split. The dissenters, who were opposed to the use of organs in worship, withdrew from the nearby Methodist Society at Mankinholes. They decided to build their own place of worship, a new chapel at Lumbutts, which officially opened on July 9, 1837.

However, the current building is not the original. As the congregation prospered, the first chapel was demolished in 1877 and replaced with the larger, present-day structure, which included a school on the ground floor. This new building, designed by J. Horsfall of Todmorden, was constructed in the Gothic style with a hammer-dressed stone and ashlar dressings, giving it a distinctive and enduring look.

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The Old Lady of Lumbutts

Perhaps one of the most interesting pieces of the church's history is its organ, affectionately known as "The Old Lady of Lumbutts." This huge, century-old organ became a focal point for the community. In 1989, villagers rallied together, raising £11,500 to fund its renovation, ensuring that its powerful sound would continue to fill the chapel.

Despite these efforts, the church eventually fell victim to changing times and a dwindling congregation. It was closed in the late 2010s, and its future remains uncertain. However, there has been a recent proposal by the local Scout group, who have been using the grounds for activities, to take over the building. Their plan is to refurbish the Grade II listed building and bring it back to life as a community resource.

Walking through the churchyard, with its well-maintained burial plots, one can't help but feel a sense of peace. The gate to the church, with its intricate ironwork, opens to a space that feels both historic and hopeful. Lumbutts Methodist Church stands as a beautiful reminder of the powerful communities that built these chapels and the potential they still hold for the future.

I took these pictures with a Nikon d3300 on New Years Eve 2016. Clicking any of them should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

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Light Hazzles Reservoir: A Tranquil Escape on Blackstone Edge

 Light Hazzles Reservoir: A Tranquil Escape on Blackstone Edge

On May 27, 2025, I ventured out to Blackstone Edge, a magnificent gritstone escarpment on the border of Greater Manchester and West Yorkshire, to explore the serene beauty of Light Hazzles Reservoir. Nestled amidst the dramatic Pennine landscape, this reservoir offers a peaceful retreat with breathtaking views and a sense of rugged isolation.

The weather was typical for a late spring day in the Pennines – a mix of dramatic clouds scudding across a bright sky, offering moments of brilliant sunshine and moody shadows. This ever-changing light only enhanced the already stunning scenery.

The Journey to Serenity

Our exploration began with panoramic views from higher up on Blackstone Edge. From this vantage point, the vast expanse of Greater Manchester stretched out before us, a sprawling urban tapestry contrasting sharply with the verdant foreground. In the mid-ground, a glimpse of the reservoirs, including Light Hazzles, could be seen, hinting at the tranquillity that awaited.

As we descended towards the reservoir, the vastness of the landscape truly enveloped us, capturing another impressive vista, showcasing the Crook Hill Wind Farm in the distance.

The stark white turbines, set against the rolling hills and dramatic clouds, served as a reminder of the region's commitment to renewable energy, yet somehow felt harmonious with the wildness of the moorland.

Exploring Light Hazzles Reservoir

Upon reaching Light Hazzles Reservoir itself, the sense of peace was immediate. The water, reflecting the shifting clouds, shimmered with an almost ethereal quality, with the path leading alongside it and the prominent electricity pylons marching across the horizon – a testament to the coexistence of nature and infrastructure in these parts. The slightly exposed banks hinted at varying water levels, adding to the rugged charm.

Walking along the well-maintained path that passes the northern edge of the reservoir was a true delight, with the gravel track winding its way beside the water, inviting a leisurely stroll. The gentle ripples on the water's surface and the sparse, resilient vegetation along the banks created a sense of understated beauty.

Further along the reservoir curves gently, revealing more of its expansive waters. The rocky banks, characteristic of the Pennine landscape, add to the natural feel, providing a habitat for various moorland plants. The distant pylons are still a feature, a familiar part of the Pennine skyline.

One of the striking features encountered was a stone structure in the middle of the water, This intriguing element adds a focal point to the wide expanse of water and sparks curiosity about its purpose. Perhaps it's an old measuring station or part of the reservoir's original construction.

The open, unadulterated views across the water and the surrounding moorland emphasize the remote and tranquil nature of this location.

A Highly Recommended Walk

Light Hazzles Reservoir on Blackstone Edge is a fantastic destination for anyone seeking a refreshing escape into nature. Whether you're a keen hiker looking to explore the Pennine Way (which passes nearby) or simply someone who appreciates stunning landscapes and peaceful walks, this reservoir offers it all. The views are expansive, the air is fresh, and the sense of calm is palpable.

Next time you're looking for an invigorating outdoor experience, consider a trip to Light Hazzles Reservoir. You won't be disappointed!

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Remembering Walkley Clog Mill (Canal Wharf Mills)

Nestled between the bustling towns of Hebden Bridge and Mytholmroyd, a silent sentinel of the industrial past once stood: Walkley Clog Mill, also known as Canal Wharf Mills. These images capture the mill in its later years, a testament to its imposing presence and the passage of time before its tragic destruction by fire.

From these photographs, we can discern the formidable stone structure of the mill, characteristic of the industrial architecture of the Pennine region. Its multi-story facade, punctuated by numerous windows, some sadly broken or boarded up, speaks to a history of industry and the hands that once toiled within its walls. The sheer scale of the building is evident, dominating the landscape and hinting at the significant role it played in the local economy.

One image shows the mill standing proudly alongside the River Calder, which would have been a vital source of power and transport for the mill's operations. The juxtaposition of the weathered stone and the verdant foliage, with trees and undergrowth reclaiming parts of the structure, paints a picture of a building slowly being absorbed back into nature.

Another perspective reveals its prominent roadside position, suggesting its accessibility and importance as a hub of activity. The surrounding landscape, with its characteristic hills and greenery, further emphasizes the mill's integration into the rugged beauty of the Calder Valley.

While the images capture a building in decline, they also hint at its former grandeur and the stories it held within its thick stone walls. Walkley Clog Mill was more than just a building; it was a living piece of local history, a tangible link to the area's clog-making heritage and broader industrial past.

Sadly, this iconic landmark met a devastating end, consumed by fire. These photographs serve as a poignant reminder of what was lost, allowing us to reflect on the mill's architectural character, its historical significance, and the enduring legacy of the industries that shaped this corner of West Yorkshire. Though the mill itself is gone, its memory, and the stories embedded in its very foundations, continue to echo through the valley.

I took these pictures with a Nikon d3300 on the 21st July 2018, clicking any of them should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

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