August 1983 saw me dashing about the Lancashire countryside, avidly snapping away at anything that was falling down, had already fallen down, or had a story to tell.
At the time I had a series, John Burke's Curious Lancashire running every now and then in the bi-monthly magazine Lancashire Magazine.
This is the River Hodder, a tributary of the Ribble. The bridge has obviously seen better days but fits all of my criteria in that parts of it have fallen down, the rest of it looks (though I'm not sure it is) in imminent danger of falling down, and it most certainly has a story to tell.
Across this bridge marched an army. Not just any old army, but an army on their way to a battle. Not just any old battle, but a battle that would change the course of English history.
The army was led by Oliver Cromwell, a name that even today can divide the country. On that day in 1648 his men were on their way to Preston, where they would win a huge victory upon which hung the fate of the Civil War. Following the battle the Royalist cause collapsed. The Parliamentarians called for the King to be brought to trial and six months later he was beheaded at Westminster on such a low block that he was forced to lie prone on his stomach in humiliation.