I first talk to Brad Hipperson-Race, eager to know the skating community’s history with the unextraordinary factory floor. He’s been skating over a decade, longer than many of the young men I talk to, and is more than happy to talk at length about his passion, so seems a good place to start.

“I was introduced to it about seven years ago,” he tells me when I visit his home. His bedroom wall behind him is an immense collage, mostly made up of photographs from holidays and his childhood, as well as concert tickets and wristbands. Despite this somewhat chaotic collage, it’s difficult to miss the subtle hints to his favourite hobby; a sticker bearing the logo of French brand, Cliché, a slim cardboard box that contained 11 years worth of decks; his current board, a brilliant yellow 8.5” Polar Skate Co. deck that is propped in between his desk and windowsill.

“Being on an abandoned factory floor meant that we could build things to skate down there which let us mould the obstacles to our skill level,” he says, smiling fondly at the memory of a bunch of teenage boys with hammers and nails. Being proudly born and bred in the same valley, he’s familiar with the larger parks in Ripponden and Hebden Bridge. I find myself asking why, after 11 years of skating, this small piece of wasteland still appealed more to Hipperson-Race and his friendship group than a large, designer park.

“Parks typically assume we’re all pro and can ollie about 7ft high,” is his answer.

“I’ve spent more time there than in my own house,” friend and fellow skater Joe Taylor adds. “I’ve learned all my tricks because of that place.”

The land does not belong to the skating community. In fact, it’s private property and a site primed for redevelopment. Over the years it has been slated to potentially host a wind turbine — but that was eventually installed further down the valley — a quarry, and a light-up billboard. It’s currently not clear what the owners have in mind for the place that many local skaters refer to as their second home.