The old tipping waggon now lies forgotten among the waste rock that it once carried from the lofty slate quarry. Here quarrymen deftly pried, cajoled & blasted the good slate “metal” from the “deads” that the waggon carried away for tipping. The scene is now quiet and peaceful where Raven and Herdwick are the only sound over the timeless tune of breeze and gale, but the waggon reminds us of, or still remembers, clatter, gripe and chuckle of quarrymen long past.