A few months ago I found out about an abandoned mine on the outskirts of County Durham. I asked my friend Wikipedia for a brief insight to Groverake and this is what he came back with ...
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Mining at Groverake probably started in the 18th century, but it was the Beaumont Company who first developed major mining operations at the site at the end of the 1810's and they continued working the mine until the early 1880's. They drove adits and the two major shafts on the site that reached the Great Limestone. At their time they where mining for lead ore, but this was not that successful in terms of output. When the Weardale Lead Company took over the mine in the mid 1880's they had more success with mining for lead and they also mined for fluorspar. The spar operations had problems in the removal of silica and this limited its success. The mine changed hands a number of times until the 1940's.
It was not until the Second World War when the Blanchland Fluor Mines Ltd took over operations and eventually British Steel Corporation that the production of fluorspar ramped up with improved treatment techniques. These companies took Groverake to being the leading fluorspar producer in the ore field. British Steel drove a new level and extended the existing shafts. The Rake level was re-driven to give access to the upper levels of the veins and the Firestone level driven for access to the lower levels. The Drawing Shaft was sunk further into the Great Limestone to a depth of 91m. The Whimsey Shaft was sunk to the Three Year Limestone to a total depth of 165m.
In the late 1980's the Weardale Minerals and Processing Company acquired the mine, but in 1991 its parent company went into receivership resulting in another change of hands. The mine was then operated by Sherburn Minerals and worked until 1999. At the time of its final closure, Groverake was the last commercial fluorspar mine operating in the North Pennines.
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As the site is public access, it was a simple case of undoing the latch on the gate before walking down the bank and into an olde worlde existence, despite its desolation. You could almost hear a pin drop. I stood for a moment to reflect. I almost felt like I'd been transported back through the decades to a time when this place was thriving. I could almost hear the noise of workers and the smell of industry, the operation in full flow, just as it would have been. Horses and carts, bellowing chimneys on the nearby stone houses. Then I reminded myself for a split second ... of the death that happened in 1989, and my work was not done. It was almost a pilgrimage of sorts, a visit to understand what went on here and why it no longer operates. A sign of the times, let there be no doubt. Time stops for no man.
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Ash