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.

6th January 2022 - Rediscovering a gem: Wilf Taylor's Passage

The first trip of 2022 saw us making our way along an icy path from Bull pot farm. Crossing the style by the gate the reflective posts lead, like runway lights, across the moor to Lancaster hole.  With Mike and Dick on the main hang, Tony began his descent to the first rebelay. He was just swapping over his descender as a grim hail storm hit and I wimped out, throwing myself into the concrete pipe.  Unfortunately I forgot I had a couple of tackle sacks dangling from me and the impromtu beating round the head probably didn't help Tony's change over.

Joining the others at the base of the pitch we headed off to Bridge hall and the scaffolded route through Kath's way.  Climbing over the awkward boulder towards the end of the passage I reminisced on my caving journey.  20 years ago on first aquaintance I found the step up and over this obstacle nearly impossible. How are you meant to stick to anything in wellies?  Now sometimes it's on arrival at the step across the chasm that I realise I've passed it.

As we approached Fall pot we met the owners of the rope down the entrance pitch, another set of "Thursday night" cavers! Coincidently they had just finished coming out of the Crap trap, our choice of descent for the evening. After a brief catch up we began our descent.  I don't know how many times I've walked over or passed under the Crap trap, but this was my first time down the pitch.  Don't be put off in anyway by the name, it's cracking. Unlike the rigging guide, after the first deviation and rebelay, we just used the following bolts as deviations (all had in situ tat). This gave a very satisfying and beautifully curving descent to the main drain.

Mike descending the Crap Trap.

A very short stomp brought us to the down stream sump. The height of some of the foam on the walls, as ever, most humbling. At this point Dick generously offered to derig the Crap trap allowing three of us to make our way back up to the high level via Wilf Taylor's passage. Dick rattled off the directions and Mike looked confident so off we set. It's a truly superb piece of passage. Not only is it visibly attractive, it's also a joy to move through. Ascending rather than descending requires a little more faith in some of the ropes and on reaching the belay, some were definitely in worse condition than others (on the second climb, with the undercut base, the yellow rope with footloops tied in it I personally didn't trust with my weight).

It was all going so well, flash backs to old memories keeping me on track until I decided to completely ignore a passage on the left with a well worn floor and lots of tape round formations and instead opt for the next crawl along.  As the roof lowered I quickly began to think it was the wrong way.  Mike though, a little way behind was "99% sure" it was right.  A few metres later I struggled to take my SRT gear off, but Mike was still at "98%". Another metre and I started to think about taking my helmet off and Mike's confidence in my route choice plummeted from 98% to "definitely not". While Tony and I began the turning around manoevers, Mike made a quick exit from the tube and by the time I had extracated myself he was sat by the obvious way on and the asscociated trappings of a trade route.

Motoring once more we made good progress, my final route finding wobble being quickly averted by the sound of Dick's voice from the bottom of possibly the shortest fixed ladder in a cave. Back then onto the well known path to Bridge hall and onwards to the bottom of the pitch.  Mike and I expected Tony and Dick to be well on the way back to the van as we emerged, but it had turned into a pleasant evening and they were still chatting at the entrance.  

The van made it up the one slippy bit from the farm and we were soon back in Kirkby. While the Royal Barn has always done a good pint, at the moment they're serving fantastic beer.  Just wish they'd put the real fire on a bit more, the silly TV "fire" by the door just reminding you what they're missing.   

 

17th November 2016 - Welcome to my world

With heavy rain falling, plans for the evening needed changing and driving up the Lune valley, the flooding reaffirmed we'd made the right decision. As we climbed up to Bull Pot Farm, the rain changed, first to sleat, then to snow. It was going to be a chilly one!

I set off rigging down the entrance tube and was quickly followed to the well watered base of the pitch by Tony, international guest star David and finally Dick.

Rigging the Lancaster Hole entrance pitch

Tony leaving the ledge and heading down the main pitch

Dick arriving at the bottom of the main pitch

Normally the words, "Welcome to my world." hold fairly negative connotations.  If however your name is Slug, I'd be a pretty chuffed person uttering them. Slug's World is a grand little place!  There are some lovely little features including some pretty big helectites.

Quick break at the end of Slug's World

Helectites in Slug's World

Another view of the helectites

From Slug World we retraced our steps back past the pitch before following the well trodden route to Bridge Hall and the obligatory trip up to see the Colonnades. Mention has to be made of the fantastic work done here and elsewhere in the Dales, by the likes of Ray Duffy, painstakingly cleaning formations and trying to return them to their former glory. It's massively appreciated.

Back down in Bridge Hall, we slithered into Kath's way, stomped along Bill Taylor's passage and stepped gingerly across into Montagu Cavern. Whether it's a trick of the memory, or the action of water after last year's floods, it seems that some of the holes in the floor in these parts are bigger than they ever used to be!

We followed the climbs down into the vastness of Fall Pot, before climbing back up into the high level series and Montagu East, finally making the traverse of the areas that allows passage across Stake Pot.  We had decided that our turn around point would be the Painter's Pallete, but again our collective memories seemed to be playing tricks on us as we remembered it being much closer to Bob's Boss than it actually is.  Just short as it turns out,  we began our return journey.

The foot of the pitch was fairly damp and unfortunately I was wearing my leaky suit which just seemed to collect and funnel water to places that generally prefere being warm and dry.

Time to head back up the pitch

Tony's speedy ascent and de rig allowed a collective trudge back across the slowly becoming snow covered moor and the shelter of the van.  For those that grade changes, this must have rated quite highly, the sleaty snow stinging briefly bared flesh.

Closing the lid

At first I was concerned about trying to reach the Barbon Inn, the van's wheels spinning on the freshly fallen snow as we climbed up from Bull Pot Farm. As we descended the valley though it soon turned to rain and we arrived just before the bar man shut up shop. A grand pint and a warm fire were a fitting end to the evening.