Tales of the Urban Explorer: Calcining Works

Having looked into the history of Calcining Works, I wasn’t surprised to find it stems from the early 19th century. Over the next 50 years or so, other additions were made to it; such was the progress of Britain’s Industrial Revolution.

On arriving things initially looked bleak. Here was a derelict monster that was chained up to the eyeballs. One section looked accessible by scraping under a gate but once inside every door and window was full of concrete. We exited feeling dejected and wielding some minor wounds.

Undaunted we continued to circle this mass of mess until we came upon a public walkway that was annoyingly busy with tourists, or was it just locals walking their dogs?

The old ‘Calcining Works' was hardly the main attraction if it was the former was very off-limits to the masses. This was our best shot and getting into the grounds and during a rare period of non-walkers, we scaled this wall.

The plastic helpful utility squashed immediately under our feet, as can be seen by a prior attempt. Bloody useless!

Take a run, pull yourself up, and hook a leg over, then down the other side regardless of what’s there. That was pretty much it.

This large overgrown yard delivered more opportunities than our first attempt and we soon found ourselves in very familiar territory. Those steps didn’t even collapse, what a bonus.

Going to the upper storeys tends to give you an idea that it's not exactly stable, this place that you entered.

Exploring ‘Calcining Works' consisted of trying to avoid getting scratched by the masses of brambles while trying to find yet another door into a different section of the building. It appeared that each only revealed a small section of its secrets.

That's not a dirty white towel lain over the old industrial machinery, it's solid limestone and not to be chewed upon.

Amongst the shed-loads of pigeon shit, we discovered the remains of sights we had found in other industrial buildings found in Stoke-On-Trent. I presume they are related to kilns.

If you think it's easy getting through upper doors like these even with aids, then think again. The crumbly top edge filled with loose stones does not help one little bit.

Each time I see one of these, I tend to think of dead human carcasses being transported around. That’s me and my wild imagination.

It's the old stop-start control for the human carcass transportation device, a rusty special version.

The only way up is to shimmy up that skinny wooden beam; not going to happen!

How to get up to that ledge way up there? We never did figure it out.

A rancid pool of filthy water was found within 'Calcining Works'. I was half expecting a mini crocodile to jump out snapping at my ankles, as the pool kept moving. Something was living in those shallows.

If you want to go down there, and then squeeze through that gap, jump down and hope there's a way out. Of course, we all did.

I remember four or five distinct sections to the ‘Calcining Works'. It was a case of venturing as far as you can, then back out and poke around for the next part.

It looks like they bought in the Herras fencing, realised it was a complete waste of time but didn't send it back for a refund.

A rare piece of human evidence, I wonder how old this is?

Climbing up the pallet could be feasible but walking the beamed metal tightrope to get over there, not fucking likely!

The flat-screen monitor, even in this terrible state looked very much out of place.

The owners have tried to keep us out, but laying sheets of corrugated iron across doors is hardly going to work.

The final section we accessed required yet another climb and once again yielded many rooms that looked similar to the rest of them.

We had to be careful on this upper section as it overlooked the canal which was quite busy with afternoon walkers. We could hear their conversations and likewise, we could be heard.

I’m sure we were spotted more than once, but as we were leaving soon it was inconsequential. Fingers were pointed but no would-be heroes started making a commotion.

Graffiti was sparse within the walls of ‘Calcining Works’ but we found a little within this upper section. I would guess the better artists could be left alone to do their ‘masterpieces’.

We descended into the yard once again and noticed someone had raised a pallet next to the wall. Getting out would be a whole lot easier.

Jumping out on the far side, we startled a bunch of old blokes who thought it was amusing that we appeared from seemingly nowhere.

After a brief conversational interaction we left for the next explore. I think they had been to the pub, had left after downing several pints and were a little pissed.

Not all non-explorers are nosey interfering wankers and pissheads are the explorers' friend; I learned something that day.

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