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.
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