I hadn't done a railway walk in a while and a couple of paths had been filed away in a mental drawer. Midlothian was hit just as hard as any other densely populated industrial county in previous decades regarding cuts to passenger and freight routes. The reopening of part of the old line down to the Borders has been a highly positive step, although cost-cutting measures robbed the route of its true potential. But that's a rant for another post. I had picked out walking trails around Loanhead and Penicuik that followed old train paths and it was time to drive round the Edinburgh bypass and see what I could find.
To the best of my knowledge, Penicuik was a place I'd only ever passed though, en route to Peebles a few years ago. Curiously, that trip involved a bit of railway exploration too. I walked through the Neidpath tunnel then visited Traquair House - allegedly Scotland's oldest inhabited dwelling and now fully open to the public. With a brewery and maze within the grounds, what's not to like? The house gates were famously locked after Bonnie Prince Charlie rode out to continue the Jacobite campaign. It is said they will never reopen until a Stuart monarch once again sits on the throne. Will we ever witness such an event? I did unearth a hitherto unknown nugget about Penicuik that was relevant to me. My folks had viewed a property there after getting married but settled upon Tranent instead. And so off I headed to the place where I might have spent my childhood in an alternative universe. I had scouted out a street that offered parking near the start of the trail and I feasted my eyes upon the information board before hitting the trackbed. I knew Midlothian had a rich coalmining heritage but I wasn't aware of Penicuik being a big player in the paper industry. Several mills were located along this stretch of the River North Esk, including a complex called Valleyfield. I had actually seen references to this place in the British Newspaper Archive while searching for information on Valleyfield House, West Fife. So I was finally coming face to face with the interloper! Penicuik had also been the site of Scotland's first cotton mill, established in 1775. The Fife papermaking scene was finally extinguished in the early years of the 21st century, due to increased competition from the far east. Tullis Russel in Glenrothes (where my wife Nicole worked) was the last one standing when it closed in 2015. It was a similar story in Midlothian with Auchendinny giving up the ghost in 2005. Off I set on the trail and the initial stage followed a shaded route along the course of the river. I hadn't researched the infrastructure of the line in any great detail but I knew from previous social media posts to expect a couple of viaducts and tunnels.
As the path began to diverge from the North Esk, I entered an open grassy landscape and my eye was caught by colourful material hanging from trees on the river bank. It appeared to be football tops and Scotland flags. My initial reaction was to assume it to be an example of a clootie well - a curious remnant of a pre-Christian tradition where visitors would leave an offering of a cloth (or cloot) to local spirits and gods at a site near a well or a spring - usually in the hope of having an illness cured. The theory was as the cloot rotted away, the sickness would dissipate. I first saw a clootie well in Munlochy on the Black Isle. One of the strangest places I had ever come across. All manner of apparel dangling from branches. Quietly disconcerting but fascinating at the same time. I decided I had to go and check out this new site of ancient worship. As I wandered between the fabric and read some of the messages it dawned on me this was in fact a shrine to a local football fan. Kane McGinley was a 25-year-old firefighter and Celtic fan who passed away suddenly after emergency services were called to the scene. The rather vague nature of the reporting tends to suggest he might have taken his own life. I was unable to confirm this though. I hadn't found another clootie well but the place was unsettling all the same. I pressed on and soon met a short curved tunnel preceded by an iron bow-shaped bridge. A longer (and straighter) tunnel was located just before a lengthy stone viaduct at Auchendinny. The Penicuik railway opened to passenger and goods traffic in 1872. It was a four and a half mile branch line that came off the Edinburgh to Galashiels loop (via Peebles), which itself diverged from the main Carlisle-bound Borders line at Eskbank. Passenger services to Penicuik ceased in 1951 but freight continued until final closure in 1967. The route through Peebles fared little better, being shut permanently in 1962. There are no serious proposals to reopen any parts of this system. The principal Borders line - a victim of the infamous Beeching Axe back in 1969 - has of course enjoyed well-publicised success since its partial reopening in 2015. The current terminus is the Tweedbank Park & Ride. The facility has proved popular - even outstripping passenger footfall at the major town of Galashiels - and there are calls for the parking area to be extended.
Some aspects of the reopening have proved short sighted. It seems crazy that the project stopped a couple of miles short of the historic town of Melrose. Surely this would have drawn extra tourist traffic, considering the town's connections to Robert the Bruce and also the Roman army. The original double-track formation wasn't fully restored and the route relies on a series of passing loops, which constrains capacity. Perhaps the silliest decision was to install a single-track concrete bridge over the A7, permanently baking in a pinch-point near Edinburgh when the amount of money saved was surely small beer when set against the total costs. But that's bean counters for you! A pound saved is, well, a pound saved. And bugger the consequences! Anyway, back to today's wander. The elegant Firth Viaduct at Auchendinny contains 10 arches and is built on a curve. I took a walk up a farm road to view the structure from a distance and take a photograph. Back on the trackbed, I passed the entrance to Roslin Glen which offered country walks. An added bonus was a sighting of Rosslyn Chapel from the rear across the fields. This was actually a far better view than what is on offer at the main entrance. Ever since the runaway success of the Da Vinci Code novel established the chapel as an international tourist destination, a high boundary fence has been erected around the front gates, almost obliterating any prospect of taking a meaningful photograph from the street. But the dedicated walker always finds a way. Another railway treasure was in store as I strode alongside the platform of the old Rosslyn Castle station. Some of these places just have a retro atmosphere about them. This was a prime example. If I had been carrying a packed lunch, this would have been the perfect place to stop for a snack. I pushed on and was soon skirting Rosewell. The village green was visible through the trees so I popped over for a stroll around, finding an interesting church to photograph. I knew the next places I would encounter as I approached the end of the line were Bonnyrigg and Lasswade (often grouped together, even on road signs). A good mile outside the town centre, the path was flanked by rows of new housing. I surmised this development had sprung up in response to the reopening of the Borders Railway. The rejuvenated line passes through nearby Eskbank. Empirical evidence that a new line brings economic activity - especially if it provides a connection to a major city.
Which begs the question, should the Penicuik branch be considered for reinstatement? Bringing back a line just because there used to be one doesn't provide a sound business case in itself, given that many of these spur routes were carrying tiny amounts of passengers in their final days and had never turned a profit even in the time of railway mania. Work and travel patterns have undoubtedly changed though. Many people from Penicuik and surrounding settlements would have been employed locally when the mills were in full production. Buses proved more successful at transporting passengers short distances in previous decades as they offered cheaper and more frequent services as well as providing a far more practical choice of where to alight. Nowadays there would be far more demand for commuter traffic into Edinburgh and this can be problematic by road as the bypass is jammed at peak periods. A rail option would surely receive a healthy take-up, as witnessed in towns and villages alongside the Borders route. Calls to reopen the Penicuik corridor could find themselves rebutted however as it would be deemed an expensive outlay for a relative short stretch of track. Park & ride facilities seem to be the favoured scheme for tempting people from surrounding settlements to use a railway station or bus hub. I pondered these theories as I reached the extant platforms of Bonnyrigg Station. A nice touch was the attachment of period-style station signs to a handful of lampposts along the footpath. My walk ended at Tesco in Eskbank and I grabbed a bite to eat and wandered round the corner to catch a bus back to Penicuik. As luck would have it, one was due in a couple of minutes and I was surprised to find the fare was just £1.80 for a journey considerably longer than the 7 miles as the crow would fly. It appears Lothian buses offer flat-rate single tickets across their territory. Card payment also avoids the scramble for loose change I remember so well from my student days. The bus passed Glencorse Barracks - a place that pops up in my family history on my mum's paternal (Howieson) side. In fact, the next port of call in Midlothian has a strong connection to my ancestry. My grandfather David Howieson lived in Loanhead as a boy and his dad managed the Ramsay Colliery.
A railway path runs from Loanhead to Roslin in one direction and and a few miles towards Edinburgh in the other. I decided to split the exploration over two visits as the weather forecast for the first day wasn't too promising but I reckoned I could squeeze in a short walk to Roslin and also visit IKEA and Stewart Brewing just outside the town. The longer expedition could wait until the end of the week when it was expected to be dry. To the best of my knowledge, I hadn't been in Loanhead town centre before but the walking route was easy enough to find as it ran below the High Street. The Loanhead & Roslin Railway opened for business in 1874 and came off the Waverley Route to Carlisle (via the Borders) at Millerhill. It was constructed primarily with mineral traffic in mind but passengers were carried until 1933 (especially for excursions to Roslin). The route also connected to Glencorse Barracks. The introduction of local bus services eroded railway passenger traffic to the point where it was deemed no longer viable. As was the case with many lengthy mineral lines, the tracks were pared back as the surrounding heavy industry declined. Bilston Glen Colliery - opened as a show-piece pit in 1961 - kept the last remaining section open until the late 1980s. As I set foot on the trackbed, I quickly reached the Bilston Glen Viaduct which is notable for being the longest lattice-work span ever built in Scotland. The overall length is 148 yards and the bottom of the glen lies 140 feet below. The viaduct opened in 1892 and replaced an earlier structure (designed by Thomas Bouch of Tay Bridge infamy) that had become destabilised due to old mine workings below the surface. The structure could expand by two inches on a hot day and was therefore mounted on rollers to permit this movement. Roslin Colliery closed in 1969 and the viaduct fell into disuse as the operations at Bilston Glen took place on the other side. A refurbishment project began in the late 90s when the old line was converted to a footpath and the rusted bridge bearings were replaced and concrete decking installed. The viaduct now benefits the community while serving as a spectacular reminder of an industrial past. It would however be rude to walk across without at least attempting to get down into the glen for an inspection of the metalwork.
Approaching the first pier was relative easy and involved nothing more than taking an informal steep path down the embankment into the woods and making my way towards the bridge. It was slightly slippy underfoot but I took my time and soon had a partial view of the supports and the decking above. I quickly realised I wouldn't get much further as the ground fell away steeply into the vegetation. Even if there had been a way down, I wouldn't have seen anything worthy as the foliage was pretty dense. I had to be content with the sighting I had, which wasn't actually too bad. I made my way back up and traversed the viaduct, admiring the view across the treetops. Then the rain began to fall. Roslin village was just over a mile distant and I made tracks (no pun intended). I've long said you always learn something new on a walk and today was to be no exception. I passed a circular monument to the Battle of Roslin and - not knowing anything about the event - made a mental not to research it when I got home. It took place in 1303 and was described in a Scotsman newspaper article as Scotland's forgotten battle and apparently the bloodiest ever fought on British soil. Ye Gods! Roslin witnessed a Scots force of 8,000 clash with an English army almost four times as large and astonishingly the home combatants emerged victorious. It is estimated that 35,000 men lost their lives yet the battle appears to have faded into obscurity and is often omitted from school textbooks. The Scots were led by Sir John Comyn, Lord of Badenoch, and Simon Fraser. They had caught wind of the English advance and took on their forces one by one. The invaders had split into three divisions, but the Scots prevailed on each occasion. Quite a tale! Why have so few people in Scotland heard of the battle? A bitter feud had existed between Comyn and Robert the Bruce for a number of years. Things came to a head in 1306 after a quarrel at Greyfriars Church in Dumfries. Bruce stabbed Comyn to death. It is therefore very possible that Bruce played a part in starving his rival of his rightful place in history. This obviously doesn’t explain why the event continues to be almost universally ignored 700 years later - even by Roslin locals. Well well, who would have thought it? Everyone knows about the famous victories at Bannockburn (1314) and Stirling Bridge (1297) but Roslin has stayed well below the radar for centuries. Today was indeed a school day!
I reached Roslin village and cut down to have a look at the chapel. I'd been inside a couple of times before and wasn't tempted to pay the £9.50 admission charge. As stated earlier in this post, the view from the street is largely obscured by a high boundary wall. I turned around and headed back to the battle monument. I decided to take a longer circular route back to the viaduct that would allow me to check out an old pit railway en route. I dipped into the woods which offered some respite from the steady drizzle. I soon discovered the route I had intended to take was closed due to the bridge over a stream having collapsed. I hastily formulated an alternative circuit that involved a bit of road walking. It did however take in more of the offshoot mineral line, including what looked on the map to be another viaduct. Should be interesting. Skirting Bilston village, I hooked up with my core path and immediately found a 3-arched stone bridge. Even better, the route took me up and over. The viaduct parapets were obviously unstable as the narrow walkway ran along the middle of the deck between two low breezeblock walls. Unfortunately the way was partially overgrown and sodden vegetation brushing against your trousers soon soaks them. I followed the way markers through the woods and saw a surprise structure standing in a field adjacent to the treeline. Dryden Tower was once part of a grand country estate and was left in situ after the mansion was demolished in 1938. It has been protected by a B-listing since 1971 and a restoration project was launched in 2015 by Edinburgh University, who had purchased the surrounding land to create an outlying campus. In an interesting quirk, master stonemason Donald McIntyre, not content with mundane tasks such as repointing and replacing damaged stonework, carved a new gargoyle into the three-storey tower. Might as well leave your mark! On I plodded, becoming slightly lost after working my way up the remaining coal bings. The sight of Bilston Glen Viaduct almost floating among the trees reminded me which way to go. Once back at the car, I checked my bearings and made a beeline for the Stewart Brewing shop. I first became aware of the company more than a decade ago when they sold mini-casks of ale at Perth Farmers Market. Initially run by just two people, the brewery now employs a staff of 30 working across a range of departments from retail to production. The Stewart logo is attached to beer pumps in pubs across Edinburgh and Central Scotland. The traditional Scottish 80-shilling style has been more or less abandoned by major brewers and Stewart have filled that void in the capital city where a "pint of 80" is still a popular request at the bar. Stewart also produce a range of lighter hoppier beers in line with the current craft movement. A real success story!
Upon pulling up at the premises deep inside an industrial estate on the edge of Loanhead, it was immediately apparent the place had undergone an expansion. I had dropped by once before and the shop and taproom occupied the same space. The latter is now housed in a new building that doubles as a pizza restaurant. The brewery also has its own craft beer kitchen where members of the public can produce their own batch of craft ale and return a few weeks later to bottle it up after the fermentation period. You can even design your own label. I walked into the retail shop and located a few bottles of 80 shilling among a sea of cans and merchandise. Many craft breweries are going primarily down the can route as these vessels are cheaper to source and transport. I guess the old-style drinkers still favour their 80-bob in a bottle though. I had a pleasant chat with the sales assistant and was then on my merry way. Next stop was IKEA where I was on the hunt for a wing chair. The sofa at home hadn't been agreeing with my back (the perils of being nearly 50!) and I fancied something with a little more support. As luck would have it, they had a model that suited my needs and it was only £200. Not bad for my own little station for reading, watching TV and listening to music. I love the IKEA café but gave it a miss today as it was pre-booking only. Another hangover from the pandemic still making its presence felt. I returned to Loanhead a couple of days later to walk the old line in the opposite direction, towards Edinburgh. Three and a half miles each way. I soon passed below the city bypass (A720) which was constructed throughout the 1980s. As the Loanhead Railway was still open for coal traffic, provision had to be made for allowing trains to pass under the dual carriageway. The same was not true of the Waverley Borders Route which had closed completely in 1969. The trackbed was severed - some say purposely - by the new road. Today's walk wasn't all that memorable, passing through an uninspiring landscape and finishing at a housing scheme. It was however another railway route ticked of the list and part of the attraction is you never know what you're going to get. Many new homes had been built near Shawfair Station on the new Borders line, again underlining the regenerating powers of a reopened railway. The track had to be realigned here and the new rails now burrow below the bypass.
I listened to radio podcasts on the way back to Loanhead. I make it a rule to walk without audio distractions on a new route but if I'm re-treading the same ground on the way back to the start then a bit of in-ear entertainment is allowable. Back in the town centre, I spotted a couple of memorials to the departed mining industry. Nothing unusual here, you might think. What struck me was the tone of the messages carved into the stone. It stated clearly that mining belonged firmly in the past and society was far better off now that young men are no longer obligated to go down the pit. We tend to associate the decline of industry with mass unemployment and economic hardship. The positive side to this changing way of life is the human aspect, although it probably wasn't thought of in those terms when mines were closing left, right and centre. Yet many miners wanted something different for their own flesh and blood. There's a great line in the first Rocky film where Sylvester Stallone - upon learning his son wishes to enter the ring - says "son, I fight so that you don't have to". It's easy to get all dewy-eyed about a vanished past but the reality for those living and working within coal mining circles wasn't all sweetness and light. What I found most shocking was the list of men killed in the modern Bilston Glen Colliery - a state of the art pit launched in a blaze of publicity about its modern facilities and safety features. The sad truth is that mining fatalities at Bilston Glen continued well into the the 1980s i.e. for the pit's lifetime. A stark reminder that these events weren't confined to the dim and distant past. Something to reflect upon as I drove home. My trip did spring a nice surprise a few weeks down the line. Having been impressed with the ever-growing set-up at Stewart Brewing, I wrote them a letter saying I'd been on board since the start and that I wished them every success in the post-pandemic future. A gratis case of 80 shilling duly arrived on my doorstep a couple of days later, along with a thank-you note. I drank to that!
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