Tales of the Urban Explorer: Taxal Lodge

Matlock; territory I had never set foot on and it held a few gems, or so I was led to believe.

A Women's Institute was one; an ancient building that had gaping holes on the ground floor but the higher you climbed the more intact the building became, with the top floor yielding rolling rotting red carpets, a complimentary glass of cheap wine, and a grime encrusted sausage roll for aspiring ascenders.

When we arrived, we saw lots of builders, concrete, paving stones and sandbags.

‘...Fucking bollocks, it’s a reno...’…

I never would feast my eyes on its top-floor splendors (or be rushed to hospital where a stomach pump would attempt to extract a 14-year-old sausage roll from my large intestine).

Before all this we made our way to ‘Taxal Lodge’, a stalwart explore that has been visited by every explorer in the NorthWest (except me).

Taxal Lodge closed its doors in 1998 and was built relatively late in 1906 compared to many ancient places I visit. Until 1950 it was a private house and then converted to a school for 'disruptive or emotionally disturbed children'.

There's mention that the school was rife with abuse, but I also see ex-students commenting that they loved their time when growing up. I often think some of these claims are 'made up' for extra drama.

…’Taxal Lodge circa 1937. I didn’t see those Tennis Courts during our visit!’…
Source

“The neighbours seem to be getting pissy about us explorers”, I noted to @anidiotexplores who was experiencing his second visit to ‘Taxal Lodge’.

A large gate was now closed that used to be open. We would need to find another way to bypass the private houses flanking the old lodge.

We were not affiliated with Barrett but still vacated my car onto a makeshift lay-by hoping no huge digger trucks were going to come by while we were away.

The public footpath was a welcome relief, we could pretend we were hikers and then sneak into the grounds of ‘Taxal Lodge’ further down somewhere.

Bypassing some ill-placed barbed wire we crept into the grounds using innate wary approach techniques passed down from our grandfathers. It looked clear and a little sealed from the initial approach angle.

Balancing on a dodgy wall, we managed to get in through a broken window not realising the other side of the house yielded many doors that were open or missing.

Better to keep silent until we know the crack!

The classroom had seen better days but was still recognizable as one, just.

I knew I was very late getting to this one, and was expecting derpy sights. In that sense ‘Taxal Lodge’ was not going to disappoint.

A view of the main building; classrooms were not restricted to just there.

There was little doubt this was now nothing more than a derp, yet it was also not devoid of things left behind. We needed to search a little harder.

I often wonder when these collapses happen. Is it during a bleak storm at 2am in the morning when the wind is howling and rain is torrenting down, or was it an unfortunate explorer who trod on the wrong piece of carpet and perished?

The latter point would happen to me on this very same day, but that is another story.

Many of the lower sections were off-limits due to these collapses; going in there will result in a few wood splinters in your fingers, ouch!

There’s a phone in the ‘smoke room’, but could anyone see it due to the swirling brown mists?

The room didn’t appear very haunted to me, but let’s face it... what’s new?

The history I could have uncovered if yet another ceiling had not dumped its load on the bottom floor.

With little to see on the ground floor, my thoughts were reaching up to the upper ones. Would there be anything to stand on? Were there any upper floors left? Could I learn to levitate?

In 1995 the school was still functional and full of rich kids, or maybe ‘disturbed kids’ if I believe some of the drivel I read.

Steps! wonderful if a little challenging to climb. It's nothing out of the ordinary and required just a little grunting to overcome.

Once up there, one needed to walk across here. It looks dodgy but held up surprisingly well.

The abandoned photocopier; nobody ever thinks of recycling these large plastic monsters.

Crossing upper rooms I was more wary of. While it may be good to get up and close to all that exciting crap over there, it could well cost you broken limbs.

Someone beat me to it, damn.

Where the leaves end, the floor also does.

Industrial equipment no doubt; you don’t get orange washing machines as a rule in private houses.

Words of wisdom; It was quite easy to fall a full floor in ‘Taxal Lodge’.

No old-school books, just instructions on how to load the bloody washing machine.

At times you need to make hard decisions. Walk over there or be a pussy and stay put.

Some upper corridors appeared quite safe…

…while others had, and then collapsed probably disabling some poor bastard permanently.

@anidiotexplores lurks in the dark knowing I had to cross this dodgy bridge as he already had, or was he simply taking a piss?

The far side was much worse, and apart from performing static pirouettes, going much further was an idea that would bring doom upon us.

Jump over to those stairs? I think not.

One of the collapsed rooms from an upper angle; I dare not creep forward any further.

Standing on beams is generally the safest option. Sometimes the nails stick in your feet though.

Someone can't decide on what type of balls or organs they want to suck. Adding all of them is a pragmatic solution.

We were both on edge a little up here, and for good reason.

At the end of the line; the room beyond would have hospitalised one of us for certain.

I only wish there were more 'creepy halls' like 'Taxal Lodge'. Not that it was creepy to me. I desensitised myself to that long ago.

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