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For several years, I've completed a Writing Challenge with many people all over the globe. We write something inspired by prompts for 21 days, plus an introduction. This year, the prompts are about place, and I've chosen the River Porter in Sheffield.  The posts touch upon the river's history but they're also about what it means to me.  I'm not following the river in any order except that the first 10 posts are about the Porter Valley and the second 10 posts are about the Porter in the city.  I hope some readers will participate and I have a couple of challenges; see the paragraphs in bold towards the end.  (Scroll to the end for the full header image.)

I have a confession to make.  I’ve never visited the source of the Porter, at least that I remember.  Also, I don’t have any photos for today.

One reason for this is buses for Ringinglow are few and far between and it’s a long walk in winter months when the pavements are mud.

Hang on, I hear you cry?  Ringinglow?  Isn’t that somewhere near Hobbiton?  It is a real place, on the round walk between Porter Clough and the Limb Valley. 

We used to go out there on Sunday afternoons during the summer months and as a child the attraction was the round house.  It’s actually hexagonal and was noted back in the day for a window from which they served ice cream.  No-one remembers this. 

Everyone remembers the Norfolk Arms but I’ve never been in it.  Round the corner, there used to be a rocking horse shop but they escaped or were stolen or something and now there’s a sign to preserve their memory.  Walk past and keep going, past the llama farm and you come to Porter Clough but before we head down there, a word about the source. 

The source is nearby, across the road at Rud Hill.  There is an upwelling near a bog and the Porter is born.  It’s hard to say why this spring is seen as the start of the Porter.  The water passes through a culvert under the road and by the time it reaches Porter Clough, it is a little stronger.  The brook gains bulk from other sources and then cascades down the Clough. 

We can follow it down steps, crossing and re-crossing the brook in a high-sided valley.  This water knows nothing of dams or weirs or goyts.  It celebrates its uselessness and, it seems, takes on a reddish hue from iron deposits.  It takes on the colour of Porter (perhaps with a little imagination) and hence its name.  (For overseas readers, Porter is a type of ale with a reddish colour – yes, this river is named after beer, although it has/had only 3 breweries along its length!)

The young river skips along, over rocks and falls, happily exploring the world it was born into.  Ahead there is maturity and then oblivion but it and we know nothing of that.  I walk alongside, myself a child and then a youth and in old age hope to walk there a few more times.

And then it reaches Forge Dam, a place we’ve visited in an earlier post and we can stop for a bite to eat or more ice cream before we press on.

How might posts of this type be used for marketing?  Think about how you might use this post or a post like it to promote your business.  I add a few thoughts after each post, like this:

I may add some more relevant pictures later, once I get up to Ringinglow.  But for me this post is about enchantment.  Ringinglow was always an enchanting place for me as a child.  In more recent years, llamas and rocking horses have come and gone but the place remains much the same.  I associate it with childhood and the post contrasts my childhood with the start of the river.

Why should anyone want to read about my childhood?  It's one way to help potential customers know me as a person.  And I write for potential customers.  If they are engaged or enchanted then the post serves its purpose.  Many of my potential customers are local and will know the Porter and so this post establishes common ground.  (I'm not selling through this series of posts but even so, its impact might result in a future customer.)  

My other challenge is for Sheffielders.  Do you have anything to share about the Porter?  Your experiences along it, bits and pieces of history you've uncovered, folklore you've heard?  If you remember something, please share it in the comments.  (Or maybe you are more familiar with other rivers in Sheffield, you could share those too.)  Let's see what we can find out over the coming weeks.

This is the ninth of 21 stories about the Porter.  The last story was: Two Squashed Flies and a Bumblebee.  The next is: Going with the Flow.

This photo is the end of the beginning of the Porter.  Just below Forge Dam, you can see a fragment of the cafe to the left.  The older buildings were probably used by workers at Forge when it was an industrial site.