Thursday Night Club

16th May - New Rift Pot

noreply@blogger.com (Gerrish family) — Thu, 17 May 2012 14:19:00 +0000

'Fancy looking at New Rift Pot?' said the text. 'OK' was my reply before I had checked on-line to see what New Rift Pot was. A quick Google and the first entry I looked at mentions 'Anyway with that little bit of drama out of the way I pursed up the next little bit of a pitch and headed out ... up the tight climbs' while the second entry from one 'Thursday Night Club' 10th Dec 2010 mentions, 'that even with moderate rain the crawl between the first and second pitches can become impassable ', and that Tom had not gone further than the first pitch and that Al had scared himself when the water backed up and flowed over his shoulders while he was trying to get out of the passage. Oh well, tight and wet, my least favourite caving activities, ought to go and give it a look!

So we walked in the light (novel activity) and were soon descending the dug rift where boards and scaffolding bars bulged with the strain of 30 years of holding back rubble. The modern techniques for shoring digs have come on a long way! At the bottom of the first pitch the crawl beckoned so we took off our SRT gear. The small passage was not too wet but the standing pools made for wet going. A couple of sections required the 'breathing out hard' technique to get the chest through narrow bits but the passage was never too constricted although the left bend did require some manoeuvring to position the body to go around it. We had been given the nod that the pitches were rigged so didn't have tackle bags of ropes, throwing the SRT kit ahead was hard enough but Al also had his large angular tackle bag of camera gear to manhandle through the narrows. Hard work!

In a tight bit!

The passage dropped into a slot and then descended through a tricky drop. to this point I had been leading but a look at the next section was too much for my fragile confidence. The tight looking corner and body shaped slot going downhill looked too much. I gave the lead to Al who shot off down with a 'I'll just have a look'! I sat in the dark listening to the sounds of his suit and strange rumbling sounds as he went through the constriction and on to the pitch head, whereupon he came back and announced that it was 'OK, just had to watch the hips as I came through the slot.' Problem is my chest is bigger than my hips and I don't like it when the only way through is to breathe out hard and then push. How will I get back? Anyway, panic controlled we carried on to the pitch head, which although a bit constricted opened out into a huge chamber called Coates Cavern.

The advice was 'go down the slope then up if you want to see the pretties'. Good advice as interesting caverns were explored that were huge compared to the tight way in. An active dig in one of the caverns was seen, which followed a small stream and seems to be a promising way on and may explain the in-situ ropes.

The return journey was not as bad as feared. Al makes a great stepladder and with combined tactics I got through the tight bits and up the climbs while he just seemed to come through them without problems. The biggest problem he had was lugging his camera tackle bag back through the crawl.

Back at the bottom of the first pitch I was confused by an unusual optical illusion. Above me was a bright light, Was it a caver descending? Was it the moon? No, it was daylight at the top of the pitch and sunshine! What an unusual way to end a caving trip - in the sun!

Too sunny for the camera

5th May 2012 - There and back again

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sun, 06 May 2012 08:20:00 +0000

Not many caving trips start with a walk up a mountain carrying a big rucksac but then not many caving trips involve 230m of fixed ladders and 1 mile of underground walking and also, this was not a cave but a mine. Greenside lead mine to be precise, closed in 1961, reopened in 2005 by the troglominers of COMRU, CAMs and MOLES. The ultimate through trip in Lake District subterranean exploration was our aim, knowing, however, that the chances of exiting the lower entrance was nil. We couldn't get access to the key!

The route startes with a mile and half walk from Greenside Mine to the top entrance at the head of Glencoyndale

Changing into caving gear at the top entrance to the mine.

After crawling through the entrance series, wading through knee deep water and a left turn we reach the ladders. From here onwards we climb down 230m of ladders placed in the mine in the late 1950s! Fortunately the ladders are protected by modern bolts and caving ropes!

Ladder pitches are interspersed with platforms that are formed by wedging wooden planks across the shafts. We were not too impressed by the fungi that grew on the wood!

The reason for the ladders was as an escape route from the mine in the vent of a fire. The shafts go straight up from Lucy Tongue level to the exit in Glencoyndale.

And on down, followed by a 1 mile walk down an excavated passage to finally reach the entrance back at the car!

However, the Lake District National Park Authority are not forthcoming with the access key, so despite the fresh air and view (see below) 2mm of steel halted us from completing the through trip of the mountain.

So back up we went.

Relics of old mining technology.

Zig Zag ladders

Long ladder climbs

The final crawl to the exit

Escape into fresh air

Looking back at the entrance

Looking down at the Greenside Mine entrance where we saw the daylight but couldn't escape

The hobbit hole entrance where we sat and saw the daylight nearly 3 1/2 hours before. We left one of our spare ropes at the entrence as we didn't need it. We rescued it on our return.

20th April 2012 - Bull Pot Kingsdale

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 07:06:00 +0000

Growing up, it was all about reaching the top of things: the top of climbs; the top of mountains. Geological pedantry aside, these are fixed points. A mountain will be as high one week as it is the next. Later in life I was introduced to caving. While I now realise that it's normally the journey that's more important than the destination, one of the quirks of caving is that a cave, down to a sump, may be deeper one day than the next.

Top of the entrance pitch

Normally our caving season would have finished by now, but with it still being cold and wet outside, it seems natural to carry on. The only real difference is that as we met up in Kingsdale and began heading up to the cave, it was still broad daylight. Dick's satellite imagery inspired direction finding soon found us at the impressive entrance and not quite as slickly as usual (I was rigging) we made our way down the daylight shaft.

A short piece of passage then brought us to the second short pitch before a choice of routes. While the rain hasn't been continuous, there have been some pretty heavy showers and the water that's around is cold. We therefore opted for the "fossil" route rather than the "slot".

Rigging the deviation on the "fossil" route

Descending the "fossil" route

At the foot of the pitch a ledge intervenes allowing a sneak around the cascade from the joining water before a short climb, maybe just a couple of metres or so, takes you down to a slot cut by the stream. While only short, the volume of water and the possibility of more made us think twice about this obstacle. Though there was a Petzl bolt, it wasn't positioned quite far enough over to allow a dry hang, so we made a retreat back up the pitch.
Back at the junction we set off down the "slot" route, arriving after a dry hang just down stream from where we had been previously. We were soon traversing above the stream again to the head of the third pitch. The first deviation took us further from the crashing water but the second looked out of reach for a short person with limited climbing skills. A Petzl bolted deviation was closer so I took this option and carried on down.

There must be a moral about taking the easier option, for the chilling water was soon on top of me again and jamming myself in a corner out of the main current I swapped over my gear and reascended. A different approach to a problem, often makes it seem easier and from below I managed to reach the P-bolt deviation. Even so we were in for a bit of a lashing at the bottom of the pitch.
A great bit of passage then led to the narrow rift down which the final pitch makes its way. While initially this looked a bit daunting, initially once again we'd be very close to a lot of water, in the end it was a really enjoyable pitch.

From the foot of the pitch, two small passages led off, one flowing with no possible way on and the other a static sump, again with no way on. The guide led us to believe there was more cave beyond, but not on this day.

I was asked the other day what my favourite colour was and I'd replied that it was the inky blue of the sky after sunset, before it goes fully dark. As Dick unclipped the deviation at the top of the entrance pitch, he was silhouetted against the sky of this very colour. What a great trip.

14th April 2012 - Simpson pot

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 17:36:00 +0000

With Lee over from Germany and having just completed a walk across the Lakeland skyline, a caving trip in keeping with his hiking adventure was required. A through trip in Simpson with a guarantee of a soaking in its (currently) very cold water would fit the bill perfectly.

"Yellow suit, wellies, what else?"

Though the sun was shining the chilly wind ensured a brisk change and for Lee, a quick reacquaintance with putting on SRT gear. Not normally caving on a weekend the hoards changing next to the road came as a bit of a shock. Fortunately of the groups there, two were going into Valley entrance and the other into Swinsto. Kitted up, it was then of up the hill to find the entrance to Simpson.

Another classic Simpson pitch

Having negotiated the entrance crawl, the pitches soon began and as usual Dick was in his element, efficiently rigging them while Lee and myself bumbled along behind. Strangely the way on departs from the water's route but it's departure would not be long lived.

"I'm sure that's got deeper"

While the duck is only short, the dark peaty water doesn't look overly inviting and the temperature of the water we'd already gone through didn't make it's negotiation any more appealing either. Going through first in order to take pictures of the others resurfacing, I found the driest bit of ground to put my camera cases on, before gingerly getting out a camera and flash. It was only when Dick came through last that he noticed that my careful stacking had produced a rather fine dam, reducing the airspace for him and Lee by a good 6 inches.

Camera box "dam"

The slot pitch could not be better described, but with a pre-rigged deviation over the top of it, we opted for the easier option.

Going up and down the slot pitch

At the junction with Swinsto we met the couple just finishing their through trip and we set off down the final pitch. Unfortunately a slip for Lee left him in the full force of the water, the torrent bouncing of his chest into his face while he tried to descend the last few feet. I imagined the roaring of the water, but Lee said the only thing he'd been able to hear was Dick wetting himself laughing.

All the time in the water was now beginning to take it's toll and the final crawl through to the main streamway certainly didn't help matters. Ever the professional, once we were through, Dick happily returned to lay in the water to allow a photo or two to be taken.

Joining the main streamway

A warming stomp down the main streamway then soon brought us to the pitch up into Valley entrance.

The pitch up into Valley entrance

Despite being in easier cave it was once again back into the water, before popping out of the plastic pipe into warming sunlight.

It's great that the Marton Arms is back as it provided a handy stop for a post cave pint and Lee's worries about his dress (pyjamas - long story) were soon allayed by the person stood at the bar dressed as Bananaman.

16th March 2012 - Shuttleworth Pot

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 17 Mar 2012 14:55:00 +0000

Sharon rediscovering the joys of all in one yellow PVC suits

Dick at the entrance

Dick and Sharon at the sump pool

(Attempt 1: Lots of (too much?) photoshop)

Dick and Sharon at the sump pool

(Attempt 2: No photoshop but not so sure about the water)

Sharon in the main gallery

Admiring some of the many features

Beautiful curtain

9th March 2012 - Cow Pot

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 10 Mar 2012 08:40:00 +0000

Dick rigging the first pitch (in the light!)

Driving up the Lune valley on a pleasant afternoon, the murk hung in the distance over the hills of the Dales and Easegill lay invisible in the clag as we headed to Bull Pot farm to change. At least Cow Pot was easy to find and we weren't in for a repeat of our Boxhead experience. Rigging in the light for once Dick was soon heading down the open entrance shaft and by the time I'd arrived having tangled every bag with every bit of rigging, had located what he hoped wasn't the way on.

The "awkward" climbs leading down from the entrance shaft

Heading down the climbs wasn't actually too bad and we were soon in the great little crawl taking its sinuous route to the second pitch. This is a superb bit of Dales caving. It was going to get better though as the stream dropped away below us and the (rigged) traverse ahead became visible. Dick's shouts came thick and fast, "Rope free", "Whooo whoooooo", "Rope free"...

The view of Fall Pot, Montague East and West gained from this vantage point reminded me of being in an aeroplane for the first time, the difference in perspective from our usual passage through this bit of cave being incredible.

Landing at the bottom of Fall pot we made our way down through the boulders to the Main Drain before stomping down, through a surprising amount of water to the sump. On the return the waterfalls in the aptly named Waterfall passage were doing exactly what it says on the tin and returning to the drain, we continued upstream. Moving through the ever changing passage, I was reminded just how lucky we are to have such amazing places so close by.

The return journey, other than the terrific view once again of Fall Pot, passed without incident until we arrived at the foot of the climbs. While gravity significantly aids the descent on the way back up it causes slightly more of an issue. As Victorian climbers found, "combined tactics" will get you up most things and with assistance from ropes, jammers, knees and shoulders we both found ourselves at the foot of the entrance pitch once more.

Dick returning up the first pitch

Our thanks to the couple by the open fire in the Barbon Inn who, despite being there for a posh weekend, were happy for two muddy oiks to sit next to them.

Our apologies to the vast number of frogs, who thought it was their lucky night, but ended up under the wheels of our cars.

24th February 2012 - County Pot

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 23:41:00 +0000

The pitch in the entrance series to County Pot.

Having just arrived back from a short trip to Europe and knowing that Al hadn't been caving for nearly a month, the decision was not too hard that there was the need to fit in a quick caving trip on Friday night. Having been thwarted in taking the definitive set of Wetched Wabbit fotos for Descent we decided to go and try to capture the essence of County Pot.

The meanders at Broadway

Toadstool Junction

The Platypus at Playtpus Junction

Spout Hall

What do you think? Did we succeed?

20th January 2012 - Wet Wetched Wabbit

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 23:09:00 +0000

Perhaps we're just getting used to it. After what seems like months of grey, wet conditions with only a few crisp days respite, we just didn't think it would be this wet. Admittedly we'd changed our plans due to the forecast rain, but the "puddles" encountered driving along the Lune Valley came as a bit of a surprise.

Heading up to Bull Pot Farm, rain was exchanged for fog and the only reason we got changed in the van was "because it's there". Walking over the moor, trying to pick put the reflectors on the posts, the slight drizzle was hardly worth mentioning, not one of those days when it's impossible to wear to glasses if you want to see anything at all.

We weren't expecting Easegill to be dry, but crossing and recrossing to avoid the steep section of bank by County was definitely more interesting than usual. The plan was to head down Wretched Rabbit to drop into Spiral Staircase passage to take some pictures of the pretties in there before returning to photograph the climbs on the way back out.

Dick not heading down Spiral Staircase passage (the route of all the water).

We quickly dropped down the climbs, delayed only by Dick's attempts to free me from the tackle sack on my back that jammed as I was sliding down one of the climbs. Fortunately the emergency eject system on the sack was fully functioning and with the tearing out of the bottom of the sack, I was released down the climb (note to self: don't do this again). Traversing through the rift the sound of water grew ever louder and a surprisingly large waterfall greated us at the climb down to Spiral Staircase. While it still looked possible, it didn't look pleasant and so we made a quick change of plans. Down to the main streamway, a look up County and back out the way we came. Leaving the camera and flashes in their torn bag we set off meandering down to the main stream.

We met the stream a bit sooner than we expected and as we made our way down to the junction, it was an eery sight that lay before us. Normally a big fast flowing stream makes lots of noise, but this rapidly moving mass of water was almost silent. Strange noises reminiscent of sumptuous sump sounds the only accompaniment. The grass and foam in the roof testament, that while the water levels were high now, they'd been much higher. Our mud cubes gave us an estimate of the rate the water was rising, a couple of inches in the ten, fifteen minutes we sat watching. Unsurprisingly now, our attempt to head up the County passage was quickly curtailed and the only safe way on was back up Wretched Rabbit. Passing the entrance to Spiral Staircase once again, we were very glad we hadn't gone down it, the waterfall cascading down it now even more of a torent.

Ascending the first climbs

Dick was very patient on the way back up the climbs, dangling on the ropes while I messed trying to compose shots and then scurrying back down them to switch on the flashgun that I'd forgotten to turn on and then again on multiple occasions to point it in different directions.

The final climb out of Wretched Rabbit

Emerging back into the open there was still no more than drizzle in the air, but the gill had risen significantly and the crossings were even more interesting than on the outward journey. Things had changed in the Barbon Inn too. While we were able to sit in our favourite seats, the nice fire and fireplace had gone, replaced by a little electric heater that wasn't very good at looking like a woodburner and even less effective in heating terms, blowing cold air up my trouser legs. These were very recent changes as the paint on the walls was still wet and the painters were still at the bar. Nice pint though.

13th January 2012 - Hardrawkin Pot

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 09:45:00 +0000

Dick enjoying the liquid refreshment on offer at the sump pool

Having to meet up later than usual, I'd had a look through the rigging guide for a short trip, not far from the road. Hardrawkin pot with its two short pitches and almost en suite pub seemed to fit the bill. As I'd never heard of it, in fact I'm not sure I can even pronounce it, I wasn't expecting much but as they say, even a bad caving trip is better than a good day in the office.

Changing in the car park above the Hill Inn another car pulled into the lay by and two other cavers began to get changed, their objective the same as ours. Hardrawkin was quickly changing from an unknown pot to the busiest in the Dales.

The short walk was stunning, under a clear, starlit, moon free sky we crunched through the frost on possibly the finest night of the winter so far. The entrance was soon located and Dick made short work of the initial climb down to the stream.

Almost immediately the quality of the trip is apparent with some beautifully shaped passageway, decorated with moon milk. The occasional crawling sections and right angled corners adding further interest.

The first pitch soon arrived along with the realisation that the bolts in this cave had been put in by somebody just an inch or two taller than me. It didn't help that the other two cavers had also arrived at the pitch head and performance anxiety had me firmly in its grip.

As soon as the y-hang was above me, a smile spread across my face. This is a great pitch. Searching for a natural or two to provide deviations to prevent a real soaking, revealing a stunning white gully entering the main shaft. "Rope free" and a quick scurry away from the spray lashed base of the pitch.

On Dick's arrival we decided to use the tail of the rope to descend the first of the little cascades that follow, though god sent holds make the others pure joy. The second and final pitch is soon reached and once again I wished I was just a little bit taller. An uninterrupted descent brings you to the sump pool and once again I quickly left the spray to find a drier vantage point to watch Dick's descent.

Ever the experimentalist, Dick made sure that it really was a flooded shaft at the pitch foot, before it was time to once again turn upwards.

The waterfall meets the sump

Starting the prussik back up

Returning up the second pitch

It always amazes me how little water it takes to produce ominous booming sounds and the return up the pitches was just as exciting as the descent. Not sure if it was the other two returning up the streamway above, but the water flow was far from steady, occasional pulses making me glad I'd followed Dick's advice to put my hood up.

If you're looking for a quick trip and the water's not too high I can highly recommend a trip to Hardrawkin, the Kylie of Yorkshire pot holes and when you're done a warm welcome can be found in the Hill Inn too.

6th January 2012 - Boxhead Pot

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 12:10:00 +0000

Dick near the entrance to Epiglottis Grotto

New years are generally associated with taking on new challenges and so for their first trip of the year, the TNC headed to Boxhead.

The first major challenge came in the form of getting to the Lost Johns' car park, the fog thick on the fell road, with seemingly vertical bits of road appearing out of the gloom in the headlight beams. The second challenge was finding the cave. Walk back down the road to the Lost Johns' gate. Tick. Go over the stile. At this point we realised we'd left the description in the van and so while Dick went to get it I set about finding the stile. As the stile was attached in traditional fashion to a fence, it wasn't too hard to find but then for the next instruction, walk 200m south. Fortunately Dick had picked up his phone with newly installed "compass" app and off we went counting our paces. We had travelled 199m according to the "GPS tracking" app when a halt was called and we felt quite pleased with ourselves, only problem was that there was no sink hole. While I commenced a box search, finding multiple sink holes by falling into them in the ever thickening fog, Dick was hard at work too and the "satellite imagery of where you're stood" app soon saw us at the pot.

We couldn't believe that we'd never been here before, the awesomeness of the pitches matched only by the digger installed plumbing. Following the Kendal flyover we soon arrived on a ledge, just above the bottom of Lost Pot Aven. Here the hoespipe split into two, one branch continuing down while the other headed into the Tate Galleries.

With hazily remembered directions we followed the pipe into the galleries, looking for Epilglottis Grotto. Knowing we had to turn right at some point we found ourselves traversing along the classically shaped and named Cresta run which eventually brought us to a handlined descent. Not remembering this from the description we turned around back to the last junction [having read the description since this handlined descent is the way on to Lyle cavern in Lost Johns'].

Going the "other way" we soon arrived at a pitch, which again we couldn't remember from the description [Crowbar pitch]. Just before this however was a small hole which Dick pointed out looked incredibly like an epiglottis. Sure enough a brief squirm lead to the fine Epiglottis Grotto.

We finally had a look at another dug passage [Venus or Serena??] before returning to the ledge and making the final descent to the bottom of Lost Pot Aven and yet another dig [Wet dig?]. There was a considerable about of water making its way down the climbs leading to the Tube so exploration of this was left for another time. It's not often that my lamp doesn't illuminate the majority of a pitch in Britain, but standing at the bottom of Boxhead's main pitch, the light was just swallowed, it really is an amazing place.

The return journey up the pitches became damper and damper, with water now flowing out of the footholes in the plastic pipe. I waited in here out of the wind and rain on the surface until Dick joined me and with the wind on our backs we once again found the wall that borders the road and with it the way on to the vans.

The Craven Heifer's quiz was in full swing when we arrived and it has to be said that the beer they're serving at the moment is very good and well worth a visit.

23rd December 2011 - bis Ihre Brustwarzen in kaltem Wasser

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 10:32:00 +0000

Mince pies and brandy at Groundsheet Junction

Lee's mellowing with age and he no longer needs pitches of Titanlike proportion to fly over from Germany to go caving with us. Thus we found ourselves on Leck fell with three bags of rope and a pile of maillons for a trip into Lost Johns'.

Despite it's accessability I realised recently that I'd never been to the bottom of the pitches, trips over the years having involved different exchanges but never going further than the cross over points, well above the master cave.

Water levels as we drove up the Lune valley were high and the entrance series was definitely "active". While traversing the first big hole in the floor of the entrance passage felt a little airy it at least separated us from the water and we found ourselves in near silence. Near silence in that while the noise of the water had abated, we were left with a low frequency, almost subsonic, ominous, beating rumble.

At the first short pitch, Dick was at once in his element. While my maillon tightening and knot tying speed are best measured on the same time scale as cave development, Dick fluently passed bolts, leaving a thin yellow line in his wake. All the more impressive considering a later, over a pint admission, that without his glasses, it's all done by feel!

I was looking forward to the Battleaxe traverse and wasn't disappointed. Back and footing along the top of the meandering rift, with occasional glances of the stream far below really is impressive and the Valhalla pitch at the end of it is no anticlimax. Reaquainted with the stream in the form of a fine waterfall, the volume of the cave once again increased and we headed quickly for the final pitch.

Here we found ourselves having to traverse above the p-hangered route down in the maelstrom, a couple of older Petzl bolts providing the security that then allowed us to rejoin the normal route a little further along the streamway.

A short section of meandering stream then finally brought us to the master cave at Groundsheet Junction. A stomp down railway tunnel size passageway always feels the right thing to do after so much verticality and we headed downstream. As Lee pointed out, 10 minutes of walking along a stream like this would soon cement where the deeper parts of a stream are found at bends for any budding GCSE geographer.

The water level slowly increased and the roof level slowly decreased until I began to fear for my car keys which don't like cold water. Dick and Lee looked almost disappointed at this and only reluctently turned around. Walking up stream is definitely harder than walking down, but mince pies and brandy set us up nicely for the return up the pitches.

Lee discovered that it's also much easier to prussik up pitches if you leave behind rope filled tackle sacks for the poor sod behind you!

Would you like a hand with carrying that rope?

Actually it's easier without it.

25th November 2011 - Descent Part III

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 26 Nov 2011 10:52:00 +0000

So technically it should be part II, given that this was only our second trip to the abandoned copper mine workings above Coniston, but someone's already used the name for a high concept film exploring the human condition using a caving trip as a metaphor for a search into the parts of our psyche usually deeply hidden in the shadows, oh and it has monsters and lycra clad, ice axe brandishing girls in it too.

While we didn't actually see any monsters, something had definitely been knawing at the rope leading deeper into one of the veins. At least it was anchored to a bomb proof railway line.

Though the vastness of some of the stopes on the Hospital level gave witness to the riches that had been found in these hillsides, lengthy tunnels to nowhere reminded us of the days and weeks of hopefull toil, following a thin, mineral vein that yeilded no viable reserves of ore.

Reading Paul in awe of the ore.

Emerging into a wild night it was off to sample the wares of the Black Bull, a great pub with the further advantage of it's own en suite brewery. Fortunately they also do carryout, so after a pint we could relocate to our campsite for the night at Tilberthwaite.

The Met office warning of high winds and torrential rain had the softer members of the TNC scurrying home to write blogs, while those hardened to the elements set off with Reading Paul for a day's mountain biking at Whinlatter.

18th November 2011 - Miss Marple Investigates

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 19 Nov 2011 14:06:00 +0000

Given that the season has only just begun, alibis seem to be arriving ever earlier in the week.
John's arrived on Wednesday, which allowed ample time for the alibi to be fully investigated. incredibly it appears to have been genuine, or John has set up a call and e-mail response centre solely to back up his excuses.
Phil's arrived on the night in the form of a doctors note, but Tom left his 'til the very last minute with the classic quote, "I think I've left my SRT gear at home." Unfortunately he'd forgotten to clear a spare pulley jammer, assorted krabs and all the old bits of tat out of his bag. Thus a few minutes later he was fully equiped and ready to go.
Dick was keen to be rigging again and set off down the pitches with a 10 out of 10 for his skills and a massive improvement on my efforts a fortnight earlier (given 5/10 and more tellingly re-rigged by Tom before he set off down).
As with reaching a summit on a mountain, it's always nice to reach a sump in a cave and even better if there are two. The dive lines disappearing into the murk a testament to divers being a different breed.

A few pretties completed the trip before Tom ably filled in for John by declaring in a headmasterly tone that it was time for the pub.

Grotte Du Guiers Vif, Chartreuse. Friday 11th November

noreply@blogger.com (Gerrish family) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 18:01:00 +0000

Les horloges ont repris, après la mi-Octobre a passé (nous avions un bon moment à Swanage) et une semaine a passé depuis ce qui pourrait / devrait / aurait dû être le TNC première compétition de la saison 2011/2012. Mais ... après une semaine sans blog a été prochain afin de l'hypothèse doit être faite que la saison n'a pas réellement commencé et a donc été laissé au membre de l'équipe voyageant en association avec le CSFdTNC (fédérée août 2007) (Club Français de Spelologie Jeudi Nuit Club) branche à la clandestinité et le blog du voyage réclamant ainsi le premier voyage de la saison.

En France la spéléologie n'est pas seulement une courte distance de marche de la voiture, mais une expédition d'alpinisme suivie par la grotte avec une descente Via Ferrata à la voiture. La promenade jusqu'à la grotte a commencé avec une équipe de 4 le plan en cours pour deux de la partie pour visiter la ville aux cascades et ensuite travailler leur chemin de retour vers le bar. Les deux autres (Dick et David) porterait sur la montagne escarpée jusqu'à la grotte, puis descendre explorer cette cascade de la route de retour à la barre a aidé par la bien équipé par des équipements ferratta. L'autre chose à propos de spéléologie En France était qu'il n'y avait aucun besoin de poids des vêtements, oversuits, bottes en caoutchouc et des casques. Les larges passages, marche facile et sec grotte chaude répondant aux critères pour un 'voyage de moelleux 'avait pas été pour l'ascension et la descente de montagne alpine.

Une fois trouvé (il ya de nombreux détournements sur le trajet ascendant de la montagne) l'entrée de la grotte fit signe d'approcher l'autre côté du couloir d'entrée très vaste. L'eau de la grotte émergents cinquante mètres en dessous de la série d'entrée fossilisés dans le visage du cirque. Exploration des passages important dans la grotte nous a conduit via un arbre de 80m avec de l'eau d'entrer, vers le puisard où les photos ont été prises et la sortie a été effectuée par une autre voie de passage fascinant dépôts stratifiés retourner vers l'entrée.

La descente pour revenir à la barre a commencé par une ruée vers le bas d'une ravine en passant sous une arche de comparaître à la résurgence, qui est tombé sur une chute d'eau pour les rochers en contrebas. Câbles étaient en place pour protéger la montée à travers les rochers au fond de la cascade, où plus de photos ont été prises.

Quelques éboulis opérationnel rapidement conduit à la cascade suivante où le brouillage a conduit à la piste touristique et un sprint rapide retour vers le bar où les membres des équipes d'autres (Sharon et Christine) attendaient avec de la bière prête.

21st August 2011 - A lesson in determination

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Fri, 26 Aug 2011 14:27:00 +0000

July's visit to the Cupcake had taken place on a blue sky day with temperatures nudging into the mid twenties leading to accusations of madness from some members of the TNC. Luckily for Tom as another blue sky day dawned and the thermometer this time headed towards 30, he was on a plane to Spain and therefore had a watertight alibi for not caving. Two years ago while enjoying the Mackrill's superb hospitality on the Vercors plateau, Paul had taken us to visit his dig which at the time had reached -23m and was beginning to make its way into the side of a boulder choke. Now it was time to see what progress had been made in the intervening years.

Even though much of the walk to the dig is tree covered, it was still hot. Fortunately my PVC suit was hung up at home as even in shorts and a T-shirt I'd soon worked up a sweat. Arriving at the dig, the plants round the base of the covering tent trembled in a chilling breeze eminating from the entrance. I've often read of cave discoveries being made by the witnessing of twitching vegetation on still days, but this was the first time I'd seen such a strong draught.

Making our way down the initial climb the draught continued blowing up my trouser legs and sleeves. We soon arrived at the previous deep point and were greeted by a beautifully cast concrete lintel, where once there had just been boulders. Beneath the lintel the way on lay open and the passage led around the corner into an open rift, leading both up and down. The pullies above and spoil filled cavities acted as reminders that even though this rift appeared open now, a lot of work had gone into making it so. Our work for the day was to install a number of stempel steps in the lower part of the rift, to allow easier access to the digging "face" and also to see if we could make any further progress. Paul swiftly installed the new steps with an efficiency born of years of experience and it was soon time to try making his dig a little deeper.

Paul demonstrated his technique for capping, highlighting the importance of each step in the preparation process and the need to be methodical. A dull thud then took off a large chunk of rock at the bottom of the rift. Paul systematically prepared a new hole, before it was my go. This time the dull thud was accompanied by the tinkling sound of the firing screwdriver dropping down into the boulders below, a little more practice is required. Having loosened a fair bit of rock it was now time to shift it up the shaft and store it in a large alcove. I was quickly reintroduced to the hauling system that I last remember being employed to take material to the surface, unfortunately all my triathlon training had left me at lithe race weight (I wish) and Paul had to send up half loads to prevent my dangling ineffectually in the air. After a good few bucket loads we'd lowered the dig by nearly a metre with a draught and beckoning blackness that would excite even the most pessimistic of diggers. Huge thanks to Paul once again for the superb hospitality, the capping lesson and another look down his dig.

25th July 2011 - The Cupcake

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 11:51:00 +0000

It has to be something pretty special to get the TNC underground in the closed season, especially if it's the day that coincides with the English summer. An invitation from Dave Ramsay to be given a guided tour of the Cupcake and take some pictures of a new Panasonic drill in action was just enough incitement though.

Once down the finely crafted entrance pitches, the eponymous cupcake soon comes into view. Moving on into Pool chamber further collections of formations adorn small grottos too. But this isn't what the Cupcake is about and once down the Mud pitch we headed quickly for Sludge Crawl.

If you are unfortunate enough to be the first person through the crawl, then you will be disappointed that the liquid mud is covered by a centimetre or two of crystal clear water. Better to wait 'til one or two people have been through and mixed the water and mud into a homogeneous soup reminiscent of sadly odourless, slurry.

Cupcake doesn't just do horizontal liquid mud either, some of the pitches are made entirely of mud, that by some miracle of the fundamental constants of nature, allow its viscosity to be such that it can form almost vertical walls.

Close to the connection point with Notts II, the mud even goes as far as to take on a beauty of its own, forming a city of towering skyscrapers, each capped by a small, protective stone. Sadly, I need more practice with my new camera and their architectural grandeur eluded my memory card.

Dave then got into position with his drill and hopefully, despite not having a "DIY tools" setting on my camera, we hopefully managed to get a usable shot.

Huge thanks go to the diggers for creating the access to this particularly muddy part of Yorkshire and to Dave especially for also showing us around.

Tom realises why John doesn't answer Alistairs calls any more

Alistair "enjoying" himself

7th April 2011 - Swinsto to Valley Entrance

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 07:46:00 +0000

"Well, the water from Rowten runs into Valley entrance and the water from Swinsto does too, but joining a bit further along. If Valley entrance is in line with those trees and it must run generally in that direction. Now it can't be as far as Aquamole because that water runs into..." It had turned out lovely again and our objective for the night had been switched to Swinsto, which unfortunately we hadn't brought the description for. Luckily Dick's logical assessment of the hydrology of the pots above the Turberry road soon found us at an entrance he recognised. We left the rope on the first pitch in place 'til he was sure we were in the right place and then he was off down Swinsto's long crawl. I'd almost have preferred it had it just been a long crawl, the constant changing between hands and knees crawling and stooping putting me off my stride. At least it wasn't painful on the knees, the cold water numbing them quite effectively. The roaring of water grew louder and louder until the sight of Dick's light once again confirmed we were at the next pitch. As soon as I arrived he was down the pitch, the pace helping to keep us warm. It would have been nice to say that we then got into a steady rythmn of one person derigging the previous pitch while the next was being rigged, but Dick's fluid rope work tended to be heavily punctuated by my less than fluent efforts. "So if I'm abbing on this end, then the knot needs to be....". Still I suppose it's better to get these things right. One thing that did remain constant however, was the excitement of descending each of the spray lashed pitches, the water being the perfect temperature to provide maximum exhiliration. The through trip really is one of the Yorkshire classics, an active streamway, followed through constantly changing cave to a master cave, with the added benefit of a thirty second walk back to the car at the end. To top off a great evening we needed a good pint of proper beer, a large packet of crisps and an open fire to sit right next too. These three were amply provided, along with a very warm welcome at the newly opened Marton Arms. As with calculus and rural post offices, suppose you either use it or lose it.

1st April 2011 - Sunset Hole

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Tue, 05 Apr 2011 10:53:00 +0000

With the end of the season rapidly approaching, Sunset seemed an aptly named cave to visit. Driving up the Lune Valley, large ponds of water in the flood plane gave testament to how wet it had been recently, but we hoped it had stopped raining long enough for a trip down this very active system. In all our memories it's just a wander down fine meandering passageway with a couple of little, free climbs before arriving at the main pitch. How different a place can be with a bit more water running down it. Both "free climbs" were rigged, the second especially, well clear of the water.

Having dropped down the main pitch, a rope ladder hung enticingly from the opposite side of the chamber, offering a way on into parts of the system I'd never visited. While the cave leading to the main pitch had been walking down a streamway, in this side of the caving we were crawling through what appeared to be washed out shale beds, almost from the off. A second in situ rope dropped us down into another bedding at the end of which lay a "final" chamber. On the return to the rope, Tom took a slightly different path and discovered the not so inviting corkscrew squeeze that leads further into the system. Fortunately none of us felt like even giving it a try, as we later discovered that it leads straight on to the top of another pitch. At the top of the squeeze lay a good number of chocolate bar wrappers. Evidence of someone spending a little longer in the squeeze than anticipated?

Emerging into daylight we made our way to a packed Craven Heifer. John's alibi for not going caving with us next week - he's going caving.

25th March 2011 - Ingleborough Cave

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 11:17:00 +0000

With sick notes coming in thick and fast from the majority of the team, a rather reduced party made its way from Clapham up the track to Ingelborough cave under clear blue skies. Even with only the background lights on, caving in a show cave is a peculiar experience. You turn your lamp off and it doesn't go dark. We quickly made our way through the opening galleries of what must be one of the prettiest show caves in Britain and stopped for some pictures at the first Gothic Arch.

First Gothic Arch

At the end of the show cave lies the pool of reflection and again we stopped to try and get some good shots. Beyond this point the lights and concrete floor are left behind as you make your way through elegantly shaped passageway, floored with sand. John, Tom noted that this would make excellent building sand.

Beyond the show cave

A short pool led to the show caves flood defence gate before the sandy passageway continued, leading to a bend, which once rounded, revealed passage way adorned with curtains and the second Gothic Arch.

Second Gothic Arch

Up until this point the cave had been lovely and fluffy, but with a downward sloping sandy crawl the cave's nature changed dramatically. Comfy walking passageways were soon replaced with low bedding plane crawls and the comfy sand replaced with knobbly rock. Things could have been even worse, were it not for the nicely padded ladders over the wetter bits.

Beyond Giants Hall

Returning back up the sandy slope our hearts went out to egg laying turtles the world over. It's not easy to crawl up steep sand. Whether flippers improve or further impede progress is something we're left to ponder.

Huge thanks go to Sue and Bob Jarman for making this trip into their fine cave possible.

18th March 2011 - Lost John's in Derbyshire

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 11:33:00 +0000

Shares in British Airways have plummeted as John has found he doesn't have to travel all the way to South America to have an alibi for caving, Derbyshire will do just fine.

Those of us unable to make it to exotic destinations, however, found ourselves walking across the moors on a stunning spring evening towards a portal to the underground realm. So keen was Phil to once more be among caverns measureless to man, that he was 10' down the first pitch before it was suggested that he may wish to follow the time honoured tradition of attaching a rope to the pitch head and using this to aid (impede?) his descent. The initially restricted pitches soon opened out and we found ourselves descending down the side of a large chamber. Though the pitches carried on down to the roaring streamway below, we set off to explore the chamber and the passageway leading off from it.

After a good few stops for pictures during which the models and lighting technicians showed remarkable patience, it was declared time to head to the pub. The undescended last pitch serving as an excellent excuse for a return trip.

The Moon loomed large over a bank of cloud illuminating our return to the cars. Hopefully we'll still be wandering over the moors on crisp, still evenings such as these when the Moon is once again as close in 2029.

CLICK HERE FOR FULL SCREEN SLIDE SHOW

The 2011 Christmas Party - March 12th.

noreply@blogger.com (Gerrish family) — Tue, 15 Mar 2011 10:44:00 +0000

The annual Easter Christmas Party was organised by John this year to be a trip down Browney Mine in Nenthead near Alston, followed by a meal at the Miner's Arms Nenthead.

The usual TNC team was swelled by a number of groupies keen to experience a fluffy trip and the party. In addition to Tom, Phil, Dick, John and Ali, we were joined by wives Sharon, Rosie and Val and friends Brian, Holly and Anita.

The mines were fascinating, the over riding impression being of the skill the miners had in their underground world. The sight of vaulted stone roofs, drystone walls and expertly carved tunnels made you wonder at their workmanship. Still it was good to get out into the rainy, snowy night (not nice snow, more like slush) and to the pub for a great evening followed by a stay in the campervans and an excellent breakfast at the Miner's Arms before we split up for various Saturday activities.

One issue of note was the annual TNC Christmas quiz superbly organized by Phil. The winner is not of importance as the quiz is just for fun but one couldn't help remembering the reaction of a certain member from last year on not winning see last years report here. A year of swotting up on the lengths of every underground pitch in the Yorkshire Dales, the names of every cave in the Three Counties Guide and the terminal air speed velocity of the swallow were of no use when it came to this caving club quiz. The excuses for poor performance were due in the end to the rigid thinking and inability to think 'outside the box' of the member who once again was left feeling that he had been robbed.

See some photos of the trip here

County Pot and Trident Series - 10th February 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Tom Phillips) — Sat, 12 Feb 2011 13:09:00 +0000

As usual, to get a pint and of pack of crisps in one of the local pubs, we had to meet at Devil's Bridge, agree a plan, execute it, and collect evidence. The beauty of taking phtographs is that we can allow ourselves to go back to areas we have been to before. Even so, as we set off down County and headed for White Line Passage, it was still easy to imagine what it must have been like to have been first to explore the section of cave we were in for the first time.

Descending the County Pot ladder pitch

Dropping down the entrance series, it seemed friendly enough with the short pitch in place to keep out the faint hearted. Then some devious route finding through to the waterfall guarding the entrance into the trident series. We took about 15 attempts to get the lighting right for the photo here and then dropped under the wall to the left and into the streamway.

Waterfall above Trident Series

What a great sight to lean around the corner and see the thick white line shining up at us. The Trident area seemed quite complex but easy enough to navigate in fact. Back out, the rain had set in but the air was warm enough with a following wind back across the moor. We set off for The Barbon Inn hoping to find the big lady with the plate of sandwiches there again.

One of the many Trident passages

Stunning formations in little explored passages

Bizarre 'hanging' passage

She had kept them all to herself last week but there were four of us tonight and we would have her outnumbered. We had the regulation pint and a half and then started to think of the end of season bash which John is organising when we can push the boat out a bit more. A good trip which filled the day which included one incident I can't say anything about (this did not involve the big lady and the sandwiches). The possibiity of the TNC guiding a nice French lady on an evening trip was also floated. This appeared to have a good effect on morale.

Mistral and Gour Hall - 4th February 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Tom Phillips) — Sun, 06 Feb 2011 12:09:00 +0000

Curtains in Gour Hall

5 o'clock came and went as we sat waiting at Devil's Bridge. What could be keeping John? This was his first chance to go caving in nearly two months and he'd be determined not to let anything prevent him from getting underground. Eventually after trying home landline, personal mobile, business landline and business mobile multiple times, John eventually answered. Too eager to get underground he had removed the panel from his bath, crawled under and was being dripped on by the outflow. The thought of having to get dry and be comfortable for the 15 minute drive was too much him and so as he crawled back under the bath, we headed onto the windy moors.

The irony of finding shelter from the wind in a pot called Mistral wasn't lost on us as we made our way down the freeclimable entrance pitch. Having negotiated the winding entrance crawl, Tom was soon back up to full speed, the passageway blurred to me by both the speed with which it was passing and the condensation on my glasses.

The passageway to Cross Hall and then onto Gour Hall must be some of the best in Easegill in terms of the continuity of formations, interspersed only by the occasional slither under the odd low section. As we approached Gour Hall a strange metallic ringing sound was heard, growing ever louder as we drew nearer. It's source, an upside down sauce pan under one of the shower baths that fall into the fine chamber.

Fine formations in Gour Hall

Another view of Gour Hall

With photos taken Tom produced a survey showing the Extreme ways extension from the Hall and inspired by seeing a new bit of passage we set off through a small hole at the bottom of the chamber next to the more likely looking old dig.

For the first time in a number of caving trips we'd actually got muddy, so the crystal clear pools that make up the floor of the crawl through to Extreme ways Hall gave a great opportunity to clean off. With time pressing/no rope for the next bit/further photos to take/fear of last orders being called (please circle favoured excuse) the climb up the snug aven at the end of the Hall was left "for next time" and the return made through the now slightly less than crystal clear pools.

Returning from Extreme ways

With only brief interludes for photos we once again quickly headed back to the entrance and back out into the wilds. At least this time the wind was behind us and it seemed like no time before we were back at the farm.

It seems that Ruskin had taste not just in terms of his landscapes, as a pint of his beer in the Barbon in tasted very good too as we pondered the hairless and rindless pork scratchings.

28th January 2011 - Wilf Taylors Passage.

noreply@blogger.com (Gerrish family) — Sun, 30 Jan 2011 16:54:00 +0000

With the visit of a French member of TNC with very specific caving requirements the planned trip this week was a round trip down Lancaster Hole taking in Montague's West, Wilf Taylor's Passage the main drain and Fall Pot.

Another frosty night saw us walking across the moor to the entrance with an unusually large team. Phil, Sharon and David were along as well as the usual suspects, but Ali was off in Scotland celebrating Lee's birthday. The entrance pitch already had a rope down it so once our rope was rigged we made double quick time entering the cave. The water level was low due to the freezing temperatures outside and the fact that it hasn't really rained for two weeks.

Kath's way was quickly dispatched followed by Bill Taylor's passage where the shower bath was absent due to low water levels. At Fall Pot the mud slope was ascended to the start of Montague's West passage.

A leisurely traverse of this passage took place with frequent stops for photographs. When the T junction where the water from Bull Pot of the Witches was met the silence was deafening as there was no water at all flowing out from the upstream sump. Evidence was everywhere in the roof and walls of the huge volume of flood water that had flowed through the passage two weeks earlier but today the flow had ceased and silence rained.

Following the stream bed downstream led us into the superb water washed tube of Wilf Taylor's passage. Some photos later we moved on and soon arrived at the roped downclimb of double decker pot, which has been re-equipped with nice new ropes to aid the climb down.

Wilf Taylors Passage. 'I will not reveal the secret under any circumstance.'

Once at the bottom of this the passage soon arrives at the master cave of Easegill Caverns and the downstream sump, which was quiet but the froth of recent floods was high on the walls.

A stroll up the streamway past Fall Pot led to the beautiful cascades where more photos were taken and then the climb out began.

Easegill Downstream Sump

Lancaster Hole Main Streamway

Back at the entrance to Lancaster Hole the two ropes were still in place so we were double quick exiting the cave and Sharon was relieved that there was no water falling down the pitch as the last time she had climbed the pitch there had been a lot of water falling down it and she thought she was drowning!

The surface temperature was once again well below freezing so the first people out returned to the cars while the last ones out de-rigged the pitch.

A swift drive down off the fell saw us all in the Snooty Fox where John joined us. We haven't seen him since before Christmas as he has been in South America so we were entertained to his stories of summer and sunshine.

The post script of this trip was, however, an awful dawning awareness that one of our members might be changing his club allegiance. Where as once it was 'all for one and one for all' no secrets and share everything, it transpired that this one longstanding and at one time trustworthy member of the TNC yearns to enter another clubs competitions and shares a secret with them that he refuses to divulge to those that he once called 'friends'. This is not Ali who the TNC may yet sell (for a transfer fee yet to be negotiated) to another club who wish to have him for his youthful enthusiasm for all things dark, technical, tight and wet, but an original member. This may be the start of the end for TNC as internal politics rip us apart. Keep watching this space.

CLICK HERE FOR FULL SCREEN SLIDE SHOW

21st January 2011 - Aquamole pot

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair) — Sun, 23 Jan 2011 10:50:00 +0000

The days are drawing out and we walked to Aquamole Pot in the light. Having previously explored it when it was originally opened up (the Pot was ascended from below after divers had entered it from the bottom after diving through from the sump in Rowten Pot. The high point of the vertical rift was reached by excavation from the surface) we were re-visiting it as it is the upstream continuation of the trip last week, Rowten Pot).

The entrance is a beautifully constructed brick shaft, supported from below by hanging buttresses of bricks and concrete lintels, followed after 8m by the excavated rift. This opens out and the rift is followed via a number of rehangs to the bottom of the first pitch. From there an awkward crawl round some bends and through water leads to the second pitch that ends in a chamber with some beautiful flowstone on the walls.

A breakdown passage and a rift leads to the top of the magnificent final pitch of 40m. The shaft is polished rock and the line of the rope is held away from the stream that falls down it by three deviations that appear to make the rope arc away and stick to the line of the far wall.

At the bottom of this pitch a short walk ends in a large, still sump pool, where underwater exploration continues to find further passages.

After a photo shoot, the long climb out began, the light of the Sten and Scurrion lights being used to effect to light the shaft while photos and video were shot.

On the surface, the temperature, once again was well below zero (-7) and clothing froze as we walked back to the cars. The moon on this occasion, not hidden by cloud but full and bright. Quick change then off to the pub where this time, we had a pleasant pint.