BUCKET LIST
ALEX ALDER takes us to Wolsztyn in Poland, where you can travel on the footplate of a steam locomotive on the main line. But do it while you still canÉ
The Wolsztyn is offering main line footplate rides, but not for long…
The sight and sound of a steam engine at work always captivates an audience – many will look at those on the footplate in awe. Right now the incredible and unique opportunity exists to travel on that footplate, to fire, and to learn how to use all the controls, on a main line scheduled steam service. But, as this opportunity will soon pass by, it is one that you cannot afford to miss.
I never knew the spectacle of main line steam in the UK – my baptism in steam was on the footbridge at Wansford, being engulfed in the exhaust of tank engines charging along, empty freight wagons clattering behind, disappearing into the tunnel at Nene Valley Railway galas – I was hooked. Since then I’ve been privileged to work on many footplates at different railways. But one thing eluded me, the experience beyond 25mph. I could only listen to the folklore of railwaymen, reminiscing about long-distance runs to places such as Carlisle. What was it really like on the main line at 60mph? A big question, only one answer. I called the Wolsztyn Experience and my flight to Poland was booked.
Rollercoaster ride
Having counted the days, eventually I am in Wolsztyn (pronounced ‘Volshtin’) and about to meet the man who keeps real main line steam alive – Howard Jones M.B.E. In no time we are over the level crossing, greeted by the glorious smell of thick sulphurous plumes of smoke from the overnight fires. The layout of the depot has not changed in over 100 years. I am introduced to ‘Mad Andre’ – “come, I show you steam” – whose Polish accent is as big as his grin. Into the shed; the air is thick with curling smoke, the pale light reveals half a dozen locomotives, three in daily service. Andre does his rounds, checking gauge glasses and feeding fires with the skill of a real engineman… So this is what it was like.
But the adventure begins the next day. 30 miles away, in Leszno, a locomotive has failed. I am introduced to my Polish crew; we are to work light engine to Leszno, and work the 15:35 back to Wolsztyn. In our charge is an ‘Ol49’. This is no polished working museum piece: it’s an ugly, dirty great beast. For those who lose interest because it looks like a plumber’s nightmare, I beg them to reconsider – the revered skills of the crews who kept time with worn out British locomotives are alive and here to be learnt – in Poland.
Moving off shed, cylinder drain cocks open, we run slowly to the main line, and all is familiar – just as in preservation. But as the signal shows clear, I am to step into new territory. A full glass, full
pressure, the engine is charged for a fast sprint across rural countryside. The drain cocks are shut and the beat of the exhaust grows louder, we pick up speed, the other lines split away and I am out on the single line to the unknown. The driver beckons me to pull the whistle. ‘Weesal’ he calls at crossings, pointing to the whistle lever. His English is only a little better than my Polish (which is none), so it’s quite simply ‘he points, I do’.
Ahead of us the two silver rails twist quickly to the right or left, sometimes completely out of view, hidden by the large smokebox. Being used to the line ahead unfolding slowly into view at 25mph, this feels more like a rollercoaster. The countryside is whirling past and on a sharp left hand bend I am not used to seeing nothing of the route ahead; a glance across the cab and the fireman is sitting routinely watching the route from his side. The line straightens, and the climb ahead is obvious, before the line reaches a summit and disappears steeply down the other side – the return journey with coaches will be more interesting.
Quick and dirty
Arriving in Leszno is hardly like stopping at a run-round loop on a preserved line – we are under the wires on a main line. We wait for the road and then rumble across a maze of tracks, into the depot and onto another turntable. We take water, oil up, and check for warm bearings. I meet my fellow participant, Julian ‘Lavender Line’ Clarke, and we contemplate the return journey to Wolsztyn: diesel timings, with 30 miles and 11 stops in only one hour, and gradients up to 1 in 85. Goods engines are useless here; with their small wheels they are simply not fast enough. I recall Howard’s thoughts – “purely