2nd January 2025 - Off beat Easegill

With Tony having exclusive use of a Spanish ski resort, Mike and I were left to fend for ourselves. Mike had a think and came up with a plan to head over to Cape Kennedy and the Fire hydrant in Easegill but with a little SRT loop to add interest. 

Unusually there were ropes down Lancaster Hole, Cambridge uni. on a New Year's meet by the look of the labels, but we were on our own as we headed down the pitch and towards Kath's Way. Fall pot and the beginning of the high level series were passed with Mike covering ground fast with a steady pace but always on the most efficient route, while I zipped around like a collie pup going nowhere slowly.

I'm sure back in the day I didn't blink an eye at crossing over Stake pot by hand over handing the in situ ropes, but either Easegill is slippier, I need new wellies or I've a different outlook on life and it's harness and cows' tails every time now. 

The Stake pot series of Easegill is one of the parts that I know I don't know. Even after recceing it a few times before taking on the traverse I always had the description in hand. I know it involves a fixed ladder at some point, but that's about it. Fortunately today I had a head up display and as long as I moved fast enough to keep him in my sights, I just needed to follow Mike.

Having kept my SRT gear on from Stake pot (no time to take it off following Mike), I had the indignity of coming to a standstill, or more a liestill just before Cellar pot as I just didn't fit through the low bedding. Fortunately it's removal allowed me to pass and find Mike at the top of Cellar pot where he'd cached his gear and was ready to climb up through an obscure hole leading up to the pretties in Cape Kennedy.

Sight seeing tour over we were reunited with our gear and out of the choice of a rope, a thin polypropylene line and a chain, I chose the rope and tried to began my descent. In the equivalent of trying to start a car with a dead battery I was going nowhere. The rope had become so heavily calcited that it just wouldn't run through my descender and in the end I was forced to down climb on my jammers. Mike meanwhile made a smoother descent on an Italian hitch. It's worth noting if passing this way that Stops just don't seem to like petrified rope.

I always find the Wormway an intimidating place and today was no exception. There's something about the texture of the mud that reminds you that you really are in the bowels of the Earth. Fortunately it's not far to the 88' pitch but a more sobering view then came into sight, a metre high ring of foam about 20m up the pitch. A day or two previously where I was stood would have been 20 m underwater. I seemed to be up the pitch a bit quicker than usual.

If you're looking for a bit of an off beat adventure with a little bit of everything then this is a great little trip - just make sure the water levels aren't too high.

13th February 2020 - Beat the clock pizza

Back in the day, Mike told us, the Royal used to have a beat the clock pizza special. Arrive by 6pm, you pay £6. 6:30, £6.50 and so on.

The very generous donation by the family Rushton of a voucher entitling us to pizza for two and a bottle of prosecco gave us the opportunity to put our own spin on the theme.

The first thing we required, when we met at Devil's Bridge at 5pm, was a short trip to allow us to clean up a bit before arriving at the Royal in Kirby for our latest possible, before they stop serving at 8:45,  8:30pm reservation.

With our newly found regard for water and the amount of water that has fallen recently a few ideas for trips were quickly discarded, before a nice dry trip to Fire Hydrant chamber in Easegill was decided upon.

It's fantastic to be able to walk across the fell in the light, though oddly it actually seems harder to follow the path without the line of shining dots that are only revealed by night fall.

We don't tend to meet many folk on a Thursday night so we were also quite surprised to find a rope down the Lancaster Hole pitch, our rope looking much muckier in comparison to the shiny in situ nylon.

Once at the bottom of the pitch we were off, Bridge Hall, Kath's way, Fall pot (down and up) and Stake Pot itself passing faster than I could reel them off in my head. The week's wet weather making the Easegill mud almost frictionless. 

At Stake Pot inlets Mike set off like a London cabby fully versed in "The Knowledge". At Cannock climb we swapped beautifully shaped, clean washed passageway for sandier but beautifully decorated chambers. Passing the 88' pitch I was ever more impressed with Mike's route finding,  the actual way on never looking like the obvious choice.

One final squirm and we popped up into the stunning Cape Kennedy chamber, it's stalagmitic rockets silently waiting on a countdown that will never reach zero. A few yards on we entered Fire Hydrant chamber, again it's eponymous formation waiting for a shout that will never come.

The return journey to the bottom of the pitch seemed to pass even more quickly and soon the three of us were following the reflective dots back across the moor. These have been superbly sited and again our thanks must go to those who have put them in.

Arriving at Bull Pot Farm, the car's clock read 8:37pm. We were going to have to be quick. A speedy change and brief chat with the Thursday night diggers and we were off, phone poised for the moment we crested the hill and regained signal. As Tony tried valiantly to guide the car safely around the myriad potholes, I asked the hotel to put in 3 pizzas., we'd be there in a few minutes. The phone call was made trickier by a sharp bang, followed by an ominous rumbling sound. Yorkshire country lanes are definitely not the natural home of low profile alloys.

Reaching a flat section of road we jumped into action and despite only needing to change one wheel rather than four, still had it done in a time that wouldn't be thought too sloppy by an F1 team.

Typically the market square car park was full so Tony dropped me off and went to find a space elsewhere.  8:57pm and I was stood at the bar, unfortunately the mirror behind it reflecting a rather mucky person, somewhat out of keeping with the rest of the well dressed clientele.

Huge thanks have to go to the Rushtons, a pizza definitely beats a packet of crisps any day. Also to the staff at The Royal for serving us in the moments before the kitchen was going to close, for swapping a bottle of prosecco for three pints and being extremely welcoming to three of the scruffier customers they're going to see this weekend.