Ian Hartland opens up the regulator as his saddle-tank locomotive attacks the incline of the quarry’s narrow gauge railway. Children in the carriages behind reach out to touch the foliage that brushes the little train as it chuff-chuffs its way up a gradient only slightly less steep than that of the wickedly inclined Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, its wheels just occasionally slipping.
A passenger resembling Ian, with a flat cap and a John Lennon moustache, snaps mobile phone photos of terraces lining the quarry walls, veritable hanging gardens with horsetail and eyebright. Mouse-ear hawkweed, that mini dandelion on a tall stem, is visible everywhere.
This verdant defile is the Threlkeld quarry and mining museum railway, near Keswick, a long-abandoned industrial site quite different from the usual run of old slate quarries. The quarry walls here, below Blencathra, are of nutrient-rich microgranite, yielding a fertile soil for plant life to flourish. The museum is run by volunteers, with guided tours through a reconstructed lead/copper mine being just one of its highlights.
Near the terminus, towering rock walls shelter a beautiful sward of yellow bird’s foot trefoil carpeting the inner quarry floor – and attracting the attention of a common blue butterfly. Passengers alight to take in this Lake District mosaic of flora and fauna – a pretty brown-and-orange small copper butterfly here, a northern marsh orchid there.
As Ian prepares for the half-mile-long return journey, he points a fistful of oily cotton waste towards the purple thistle-like flowerheads of knapweed, the pink, white and blue pincushion-shaped flowers of scabious, and the vivid blue of cornflower.
“Fencing sheep off has been a blessing,” he says. “The old quarry has been reclaimed back to its natural habitat by Mother Nature.” As he speaks I spot more butterflies, mainly whites and browns and red admirals as well as a small tortoiseshell.
“This is a wildlife haven in a busy region, yet it lies completely undisturbed,” he concludes. “We love to show train passengers around. They all say, ‘Wonderful. You have your own special nature reserve, lucky you’.”
