Humber Bridge

From the carpark, I followed a trail through woodland away from the river. I reached Far Ings Road and a couple of minutes walking along it got me to a ramp that takes pedestrians and cyclists up to the bridge's deck. I reached the top and was met by a wall of noise from the traffic that races along the bridge. The pedestrian walkway was at a lower level than the road such that my head was more or less at the same level as the vehicles tyres. I wouldn't fancy crossing the bridge when it was raining since there was no protection to the pedestrian from any spray. At this elevated height the surrounding flatland looked even flatter. The river also looked even wider. I started making my way across it along the walkway.

The Humber Bridge is a suspension bridge which means that the deck is suspended from two massive cables strung over the two towers from one bank to the other. Each of these massive cables are made up of 14,948 parallel wires each 5 mm thick. Looking along the length of one of these, up towards the south tower, I could see a couple of workers carrying out maintenance. They were of course latched on to two safety wires but their position looked dreadfully exposed. Using the zoom of my camera, I could see that they had what looked like a tablet on a stick and were inspecting the underside of the cable. I'm not sure I'd fancy their job.

I chatted to a couple of walkers coming the other way across the bridge. They said that they were local and that it had been known for people to climb up the cables as dares. Indeed, some quick Googling revealed some 'influencers' climbing up the cables for their vlog. I found a picture of one even doing an handstand on the top of one of the towers. There are now some wired gates surrounded by some grizzly looking blades that prevents direct access to the cables, but it wouldn't take much to bypass the gates with some ropes and ascenders. There were occasional grates along the walkway that drained away any surface rainwater. I looked down one of these and saw the river directly below me. It gave me a feeling of vulnerability knowing that there was such a thin layer between me and the fall to the river. The railings along the pedestrian walkway should have been designed to be 3 or 4 inches higher in my view, but there again maybe I was getting a little paranoid. Cyclists gain a fair pace coming down the slope and you can't hear them because of the traffic. I nearly stepped into one of them as he approached from behind. I feared that I might knock one of them off their bike, over the railings and into the Humber. Nearing the north bank I could see what looked like an old windmill and a riverside hotel. The north tower was actually built on the bank of the river and was the easier tower to build. The south tower was built out in the river and presented more difficulties. The river at the southern point covers beds of boulder clay, sands and gravel. In order to get a firm footing, the engineers had to dig 30m foundations to reach the firmer Kiimeridge Clay beneath. An information board stated that the number of millimetres the towers are apart at the top compared to the bottom is 36. This is to allow for the curvature of the earth. I think the engineering involved was probably beyond using a B&Q home brand spirit level.

Whiting Mill

A set of stairs brought me down from the bridge into some woodland and a fingerpost directed me to the river. The path descended into the trees of the Humber Bridge Country Park. It then went under a tunnel and a view of the river opened up on the other side. The windmill that I'd seen from the bridge was now before me. The building was know as the Whiting Mill and was used to crush chalk. Whiting was used in materials like putty and even toothpaste. The entrance door was open and I furtively made my way across to it. It sounded like a guide was giving a talk about the place, but it was a full house and I couldn't hear anything. I therefore started the next stage of my journey westwards along the north bank of the river. It turned out to be a well made trail and was popular with both walkers and cyclists. The path was squeezed in between the river and the railway line into Hull. There were few trains though and so it wasn't that intrusive. The view of the bridge from the north bank was as stunning as it was from the south. I had to keep turning around to have a look at it as I walked westwards away from it.

North Ferriby

I stopped to have my lunch seated at a bench with a panoramic view of the bridge. As I chomped into my first sarnie two middle aged fellows sat down on the bench next to me. One of them immediately got a cigarette out and lit up. 'How unlucky is that?' I thought. The benches were angled towards each other and so we drifted into a conversation. It turned out cigarette man had lost his wife last February. His mate had suggested a walk along the Humber as some nature therapy. It seemed to be working as he said he was enjoying the day out. The conversation turned to the maintenance workers I'd see working on the cables. Cigarette man said that in his younger days he'd fitted some cornice stones on the top of a cinema in Hull. 'I couldn't do it now. You become more appreciative of danger as you get older.' With that thought lingering in the air, the pair departed eastwards to continue their nature therapy.

Near to North Ferriby I came across an outline of a boat in the grass. A nearby information board described how some Bronze Age boats were discovered here. The boats were just over 13 metres in length and 1.65 metres wide and so were significant structures. It is thought that with a sail they would have been able to use them to make long sea voyages. My outward bound voyage was nearly over. A few hundred yards further along the coast I came to a fork in the trail. One went along the shore line with a warning that it was covered at high tides, and the other went inland. I followed neither and turned around to go back the way I'd arrived.

Return

The day had warmed up nicely and there was a pleasant breeze drifting over the river. A detectorist was trying his luck on the shore. Maybe he was looking for another Bronze Age boat. Back at the bridge, I walked underneath to see if I could find access to the eastern pedestrian walkway. This turned out to be a pointless mile long circular detour around the suburbs of Hessle before I arrived back at the western walkway again.  A sign said that the eastern walkway was closed due to maintenance anyway. A pity I hadn't seen that sign half an hour earlier! I climbed the stairs to the western walkway and started making my way across the river.

Back in my fitter days, I used to run half marathons and I ran the Humber Bridge event a couple of times. It started in Hessle, crossed the bridge, did a circular route around Barton-upon-Humber and then re-crossed the bridge to the finish at Hessle. I have happy memories of those runs. The first time I did it, I had an absurd fear that the hundreds of runners would set the bridge deck swinging like the Millennium Bridge in London. It was as steady as a rock as we ran over it. I remember it was a lovely long, downward slope as you breached the high point of the bridge.

Halfway across the bridge I came across the little maintenance truck used by the cable workers. I noticed the worker, that I'd seen high on the cable this morning, was now having an easier time of it sat in the truck. The other workers were gradually making their way up the cable.

I dropped down from the bridge and made my way back through the wood to the carpark. I couldn't resist that one last look of that magnificent bridge before I started the long drive home.