14th February 2019 - Alt Aquamole

Our first daylight change of the year

Beginning our descent as the sun sets

The head of the second alternative pitch

Derigging at the head of the first alternative pitch

Dick on the first alternative

Almost back at the surface

Out into the night air

8th February 2019 - One arm bandit

Browsing the forums on ukcaving, I spotted that a new route in Aquamole had been recently re equipped with nice shiny bolts.  As the weather was a bit wet for our other plans and it's one of my favourite bits of cave, a bit of investigation was in order.

80m of, as the Starless River website would put it, "nylon highway", brought us to what is described as a "gloomy crawl" in the description.  Not sure whether it says more about the current state of our lives, or the caves we've been going into recently, but we both thought that the fine streamway that followed was actually quite a nice bit of passage.

The second, short, water sprayed pitch brought us into a chamber with a beautiful white calcite feature and also marked the point at which we needed to start following instructions for the "alternative" pitches.

Beardy's description on ukcaving is completely accurate, but the oft quoted "not for the blind obedience of fools" is particularly apt in this case.  From the bottom of the pitch we followed the obvious stooping way on, until after a few metres you enter the chamber from which you can drop down into the streamway to the head of the usual final pitch.  Our instructions said, "a crawl straight ahead", so I headed off down a crawl which sort of was straight ahead, on the left wall of the chamber.  Within a few metres my brand new, shiny red caving suit was coated in the aqueous mud and I was questioning my route finding, this was about as far from the glitz and glamour of a Los Angeles casino as it's possible to be.  Fortunately the ever lower and ever muddier stream/mudway lead to a small terminal chamber in which I was able to turn round, reverse my route and explain to Tony that this wasn't the way on.

Back in the main chamber we went straight on and in the far wall found a slightly squashed circular hole, leading to an obvious squeeze a metre or so ahead, just like in the description!  A clue is definitely in the name and after a few botched attempts to align myself with the hole, I assumed the one armed bandit position and squirmed through.  Tony as is always the case, then glided through with no effort whatsoever!

A hole in the floor lead down to the One-armed Bandit streamway and we headed up it to find the head of the final alternative pitches.  We stared down into the gloom and looked forward to coming back with Dick, who loves Aquamole as it is and so hopefully will enjoy this variation too. It was then back downstream, passing the hole we had entered by until the streamway ends quite dramatically at a short pitch to the ledge on the main pitch of Aquamole aven.

As Tony descended onto the ledge, I began up the last few metres of the main pitch rope sprayed by exceptionally muddy water, the product of my earlier wallowing. A few metres later we were back in the starting chamber after a fascinating little loop.

A bottle of non-alcoholic beer served as a fine thirst quencher and allowed more time to be taken over a fantastic pint of red ipa, lengthening what is actually the most pleasant part of the evening.  The Marton Arms are making a real effort to entice cavers back, with a warm welcome (I'm sure given to everyone not just cavers), caving photos on the wall and a display of caving gear that is probably meant to hark back to some long forgotten era.  Worryingly it looks in better nick than our gear!

6th December 2018 - Jingling all the way

As we're now properly into advent and it's raining, a cave without a stream and a festive name felt in order and so off to Jingling we set.

The fog was thick as we eeked our way along the Kingsdale road, trying to pick out the relevant gate and parking spot.  Fortunately, even though it looked pretty miserable through the windscreen, the change wasn't too bad and we were soon heading up the hill to the Turbury road.

I don't know how many times we've headed up this way, but we always seem to arrive at a wall not fully sure which way to turn to get to a gate.  On this occasion we chose correctly and after a few metres arrived at the gate allowing access to the road.  What could have been quite a long search for the pot was made infinitely easier by Dick's GPS and the familiar entrance soon emerged from out of the clag.

The last time I'd done this pot was with Tony and we'd had to engage skills from our distant past as we unceremoniously lunged for tree branches, selecting the thickest to wrap slings around in order to rig the first pitch.  It turns out though that this is the same pot I'd also previously done with Dick and his niece and nephew, which begins with a lovely descent down a short gully, before a fine traverse along a ledge overlooking the main pot.  As two and two were slowly put together in my brain, Dick set off down the lovely gully.

Despite this being a "dry" pot under normal conditions, the last bolt on the traverse seemed to be under a leak of some sort and I didn't envy Dick even though he was rigging swiftly. A short descent from the traverse dropped us into the lateral cleft, where we swapped rigging duties.  This really is a superb little pot, with some terrific positions, the homely cleft ejecting us once more into the dank open shaft.  Oh for a deviation, the "leak" from the end of the traverse seemingly having increased in volume by this point.

The final pitch dropped us into the bottom of the rift and while each end of it soon closed down, a dig at the foot of the rope offered a way on.  The tail of the rope offered a useful hand line down the dug shaft, but I wasn't tempted by the horizontal continuation and I squirmed my way back up to the bottom of the pitch.

Even given the traverse's leak, which managed to deposit a drip right down by neck, we emerged onto the moor mostly dry and warm.  I could definitely get used to this type of caving!  We're also getting quite used to finishing the evening in the Marton Arms and it's great to see that they've even a few caving prints on the walls too.

29th December 2018 - But smart old blue, he took the Milky Way

With the tail end of storm Diane passing over the country it was wet.  One of the descriptions I'd read of where I wanted to go for this evening's trip read, "You might not drown in wet conditions". I prefer better odds than that so a change of plans was in order.  I'd like to say that Tony turning up in a brand new, blue caving suit was the inspiration for the choice, but unfortunately it was purely chance.

First stop was Valley Entrance.  The comparative warmth inside the entrance was short lived as we soon found ourselves stooping in bottom edge of boxers deep, not warm, water.  My memory must be very selective as, what as I remember as a quick stomp along the roof passage, is actually quite awkward stooping for much of its length.

The very aqueous entrance to the Milky Way didn't look overly enticing so we left our harnesses and carried on down the tunnel with the hope that we might feel more inspired on the return.  Looking down into the master cave we were quite pleased that this wasn't our way on, as there was quite a lot of water running through it.

Trying to put off the inevitable even further we stopped to set up a photo of one of the prettier bits of the roof tunnel, but were still soon back at our bags and the inevitable wet crawl.  Fortunately the cold water numbed the pain in my knees from crawling over cobbles and the white deposits that give the Milky Way its name also provided further distraction from the cooling effects of the water.  Occasional avens provided brief respite from the crawling, but the standing up almost made it worse when the crawling commenced again.

At a T-junction a rope, just visible through the waterfall filled rift on the right, finally signalled the end of the crawling.  It didn't though end my struggles.  While the first part of the climb up was lovely, the narrower rift with its in situ rope proved my nemesis.  I opted to try climbing the knotted rope with my jammers, conducting half a dozen or so "passing a knot" procedures and getting myself in a proper tangle, which only putting on my pantin alleviated. Tony though climbed the rift stylishly, using his cows tails in the knotted loops only for protection.   

Tony making his way up the Toyland climb

Emerging from the climb into a small chamber, two ways on seemed possible. The one at ground level looked tight and while the one 'over the top' looked more spacious a rope signalled a further pitch ahead.  From what I had read prior to the trip I felt this meant that we were in Toyland, our destination for the evening.  The sound of rushing water from beyond definitely didn't feel enticing and so we descended back down to the Milky Way.  Tony kindly took the camera case and my only excuse for my poor performance on the climb up away from me and I proceeded to show that it really was just my lack of skill that had caused such issue, adding in some extra bumbling on the descent.

Now knowing how long the crawl was, it seemed to pass much more quickly on the way out and sopping wet through now, even the return to Valley Entrance along the roof tunnel didn't seem so long either.  This really is road side caving at its very best and seconds later we were back at the van, pouring wellyfulls of water onto the road.

As well as Valley Entrance being convenient for the road, Kingsdale is also very convenient for the Marton Arms which, with its new owners, has been a bit of a hit this season.  Straying from our usual "packet of salt and vinegar and a packet of cheese and onion", Tony went for the wasabi nuts and spicy bar mix, which turned out to be a master stroke. As we sat, huddled over our pints in our grubby duvet jackets and with our mucky faces, it's great to know you're made to feel just as welcome as the other clientele, dressed to the nines and drinking gin cocktails.  

15th February 2013 - Wetter than last week

Tom back at the van.

Incredibly it hasn't rained for a couple of days and some blue sky has allegedly been seen over Lancashire.  Having had a great trip last week in Yordas and needing a short and exciting adventure for my brother-in-law, I thought a pull-through trip would be perfect.

Driving up Kingsdale, I was quite surprised to see the river running relatively high despite having had a couple of dry days.  The remains of the snow on the flanks of the valley gave a clue to its source and potential temperature though.

A five minute uphill plod, made slightly more difficult than usual by the neoprene/PVC combo, soon saw us at the Middle entrance.  The two short entrance pitches were soon negotiated and we set off along the streamway. 

Arriving at the final pitch the waterfall looked and sounded awesome.  Descending first to make sure the rope ran clear, I tried to sneak my way down the side of the main fall.  Though this was partially successful, there was no avoiding a couple of refreshing showers, the biggest being saved for the last couple of feet into the plunge pool.

Waving my lamp at Tom, he began his descent through the maelstrom, again trying hard to avoid the main fall, and again receiving the biggest soaking just before the bottom.  Signalling to him to climb through the window, with fingers crossed, I began to pull on the abseil rope.  Fortunately it came through easily and we were both soon in the impressive hall of Yordas.

I pointed out the line of foam about 5 foot up the wall and told Tom that this indicated how high the recent flood waters must have been.  He then asked about the line of foam about 11 foot up!  It must be a truly incredible sight when it's in flood.

Two minutes later we were back at the van and not much later, sat in the warmth of the Marton Arms, the noise and power of the rushing water a distant dream.

1st February - Back down to earth

The rain had fallen steadily all day in Lancaster, while this is the usual state of affairs, it hadn't been forecast and so as the afternoon approached we decided to change our original plans.  A quick flick through the rigging guide and Dick decided we should go and have a look at Yordas pot.  

First though we needed to head to Ingleton, as the word on the street was that Inglesport had some of the long awaited Meander suit replacements.  The bush telegraph was indeed accurate, but Lyon's sizing wasn't and while Dick was able to adopt the customary Inglesport oversuit pose (see here and here), further movement wasn't going to be possible even in their largest suit.  (If anyone from Lyon's reading Dick is more than happy to lend his dimensions to help with the production of a new sized suit as, given the rave reviews, he'd very much like one still).  So with his old, leaky Meander we set off, at least this wasn't going to be a wet trip.

Road side caves are fantastic and within a few minutes we were descending down the first entrance pitch and shortly after the second, which brought us to a lovely streamway.

While I tried taking a couple of photos, Dick started off, rigging the traverse over a roaring waterfall.  With having taken the kids into Yordas, I had wrongly assumed that this would be a very simple trip, but the third pitch is very good fun as it first traverses out, before heading down to the waterfall plunge pool.

Pretending that daylight wasn't but a short walk away, we looked round the impressive main chamber, before once again stepping back through the window to the waterfall chamber.

Starting the climb back up, some strange force propelled you into the waterfall, before the force of the water spat you back out.  These are the type of conditions when a fully waterproof, PVC suit comes in handy.

Returning along the traverse we soon swapped the verticallity of the waterfall, for the pleasant stream way and began making our way back out.

Once again the road side nature of the cave came up trumps and we were soon back at the van and shortly after in the warm environs of the Marton Arms.  Worth visiting for the very good beer and also to contemplate the price of a steak dinner.