Be that as it may, this is a track that we have walked for over 25 years. Some time last year I discovered that one of the access points had been blocked. Notices telling us that this was private land were put up. One one occasion I even asked some workmen about it, hoping that they might tell me that the old mill/warehouse building on the site was about to be developed into something other than a derelict ruin. I got short shrift. They merely grunted that this was private land.
You can still get onto the Donkey Line proper but you have to walk along the road for a stretch and then there are steps up to the bridle path. The former access route cut off a corner but it’s not real hardship, although crossing the road to the steps is a little hazardous. No development of any kind has taken place since then. The old mill building seems to be inhabited only by pigeons to this day and the place is still in imminent danger of falling down.
However, yesterday, running back along the Donkey Line, when I came to the barrier I decided to follow signs that others were ignoring the notices. At one end the “Keep Out” sign has disappeared completely although the fence is still in place. Scrambling up a rather muddy bit of banking you can get onto a track that circumvents the barrier and allows you onto forbidden bit of territory. There I saw clear and unmistakable signs that boys (well, I suppose it could also be girls but something tells me that it was probably boys) had been building ramps for their bikes. There were also even more clear and unmistakable signs that supposedly respectable citizens had been riding their horses along there but I didn’t bother to get photographic evidence of that. 
At the far end of the track, someone has removed a part of the barrier. Presumably this is how people are able to get in on horseback. The sign telling you that this is private land is still there but a part of the fence has been removed. I imagine that local horse riders got a little fed up of trying to persuade their horses to go up the steps to get onto the bridle path. It would seem that anarchy is alive and well and lives in Saddleworth. Moving on to a bit of railway line that survived the Beeching cuts, today I travelled to Manchester by train with our middle grandchild. Originally it was going to be a girls’ day out with both the granddaughters, leaving the grandson at home as he would find shopping boring. But then the older granddaughter decided that the appeal of a friend’s new computer game was more attractive so the middle child and I went on our own.
We bought a child’s return ticket to Manchester at the local station (I travel on my bus pass on local trains and so do not need to buy a ticket) only to be told that we could go as far as Stalybridge, only one station down the line. There we would have to get onto a replacement coach service to Manchester Victoria or catch a connecting train to Manchester Piccadilly. The Northern Line was undergoing improvement work. OK. Arriving at Stalybridge, we enquired about the bus service, only to be told that it would be better to catch the Piccadilly train as the bus service was very slow. Most people from our original train followed this advice. Consequently we travelled to Manchester Piccadilly packed like sardines into a very overcrowded train.
To add insult to injury, this second train was delayed by almost 15 minutes. At the time that we might realistically have been in Manchester city centre, had our first train completed its journey, we were still waiting at Stalybridge for the sardine can to arrive.
Notwithstanding all this nonsense, the middle grandchild and I had a good day out and were able to take a photo of our train taking part in the “Movember” moustache growing movement.
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