25th July - CPC Penyghent Pot

 AJ, Mick, Simon, Jay, Adie, Patrick and Mike

After a fabulous AJ organised trip through King Pot with the Craven, I was keen to join another of his trips. The fact that it was to Penyghent pot made it even more unmissable. I've only visited once before, but it had been a fantastic trip and I was looking forward to another trip with both a reduced share of tackle and a potential visit to one of the extensions.

It's been dry for weeks now but there was definitely moisture in the air and rain forecast as I drove to pick up Mike. Excellent brownie courtesy of Sam, a quick cuppa, a brief chat with Mike's aunt and we were off again on the way to the club cottage in Horton. The club's carpark was busy with both vehicles and bodies beginning to sort tackle but a short shuffle worthy of a top level Tetris player soon had all parties accomodated and all hands on the bagging of the ropes. Mick, Simon, Jay and AJ I'd met on the previous King pot trip and I was introduced to Patrick and Adie, the club's tackle master. Along with rope we were going to rig/derig pitches with, there were also a number of 'decomissioned' ropes that were going to be used to replace the handlines that aid progress in the rift.

Walking up to the pot we experienced a sensation that has become somewhat unusual of late, rain. We felt sorry for the people heading up Penyghent, any other day in the last 6 weeks they'd have had clear views. Today though the clag was properly down. While the initial plan had been for a potential visit to the Friday the thirteenth extensions we were glad that we'd revised our plans to aiming solely for the sump. I for one would prefer no rain forecast before heading into the likes of Psycho crawl.

While the ramblers made their way up into the clouds, we cut off left at right angles to the main path, following a vague trod. Arriving at an area of shallow shakeholes our party spread out until the scaffolded entrance was located and the group once again coalesced. Watching a group of cavers kit up it soon becomes apparent that there are often many solutions to a problem. While everyone sported a harness, descender and jammers, the type and arrangement were almost as numerous as the number of people.

Knowing what was ahead I lingered towards the back of the party, enjoying the light drizzle until the last possible opportunity, before climbing down the scaffolded entrance. The water was definitely warmer than on our previous visit. Lamentably this meant that I was able to feel my knees and I was envious of Aidie and his two sets of kneepads solution. One industrial pair for this crawl and then a lighter set for the rest.

The first pitch brings slight respite from the crawling of Pilgrims' way but it's only after Easy passage and the second pitch that Penyghent really starts to show itself at the beginning of The Rift. This is a superb piece of cave, scrambling interspersed with hand line climbs and pitches. The fun continues down to the improbable bypass of the, today ironically named, Niagara pitch. Here, for me, the walls of the cave become darker and there's an ominous feeling in the final waterlogged passage to the sump. I knew I was almost there as Patrick and Adie hurtled past me on their out saying that the dive line was just around the corner. A quick bite to eat and we began our upwards journey with Mike derigging.

The shine was slightly taken off The Rift as the bag became ever heavier and at each rope there was the question of wether we should be removing it or not. The general rule was that if it had a krab on it, it was coming out. The main issue was that to Mike and I's eyes some of the 'tatty' rope we were meant to be leaving in looked in way better condition than much of the rope we're used to using.

At some point along the entrance canal I began to think that even the smallest little inlet on the right was our way out as I was determined not to miss it. I needn't have worried as the correct exit had been marked by a lovely bit of wall (or art if you're a Goldsworthy fan). A final few wriggles with the bag and we joined the others on the surface.

The wander back down into the valley allowed time for chat with fellow club mates before the excitement of putting ropes through the washer back at the kit store. A brew in the hut, another 

[In progress...]

23rd April 2026 - an under appreciated classic

One of the things I hate about my job is that you think you've a bit of free time, plan to make the most of it and then it's suddenly whipped away from you with an emergency cover for a last period of the day, year 9 Spanish lesson. Luckily one of the things I love about my job is that I work with some amazing colleagues who then bail you out.

So it was that I arrived at Mike's in time for Fat Rascals and a brew before the three of us headed for Horton. What a difference a weekday makes. I'd been here at the weekend and it had been packed with Three Peakers, now we could park right next to the start of our footpath.

It was a beautiful evening as we walked up the Pennine Way to the cross roads, Curlews calling their mournful cry. Taking a route intersecting the two paths through a bit of tussocky moorland then brought us to Little Hull pot.

 

A short stooping section inside the entrance brought us quickly to the crawl. It's not a bad crawl as these things go and without tackle sacks you'd hardly notice it. Unfortunately we all had to navigate a bag along it but, dues paid, we were soon enjoying an increasingly impressive streamway. At the pitch Mike had tied into the first bolts but then extremely kindly asked if I'd like to rig. Having read that there were some interesting situations ahead I quickly accepted his offer. The pitch became interesting straight away with a swing through a window into a parallel rift followed by a short traverse to another y-hang. Up to this point things had been flowing well but search as I might I couldn't find the next deviation. Fortunately as Tony descended he was able to rectify this for me. It's on the same wall as you're descending and out to your right if facing said wall.

Approaching the second pitch I was glad I'd read the, as ever, excellent CNCC description and ignored the lower bolts, instead following a rising line up to a shelf. Through a window from the shelf I could see the y-hang and rigged the traverse line to a an intermediate bolt just the other side of the orifice. Secured by my cowstails I was then able to defenestrate myself and reach across the void under tension to rig the main hang. And what a hang. This is a great pitch. Beautifully fluted, stunningly proportioned and with a couple of dazzling white formations to finish it off. The fact that there was no way I was going to make it to the second deviation didn't bother me at all, I was just awed by my surroundings. 

Tony soon arrived and at the base of the pitch with the next rope and we were soon down the next short pitch to the streamway. A quick scuttle brought us to a decision point, to duck or squeeze. The CNCC description for this pot has a few phrases that are pretty Cooperesque (those who've ever followed a Mike Cooper description in Not for the Faint Hearted will hopefully know exactly what I mean) and of the squeeze suggest that, "Cavers who are big-boned, gym-addicted, or over-enthusiastic about food may struggle". I wouldn't describe myself as big-boned, I haven't been to a gym in years and though I'm quite partial to a bit of cake, thought I'd give it a go. For me there were three tight sections, one straight away lead to a flake that then then needed to be stood up on. A second on a downward traverse from this point and then on a final drop back into the streamway. I was definitely glad I'd limited myself to a single Fat Rascal earlier.

With the full team through we carried on down stream to a section that reminded us of trips in Cantabria with any "up" points pre rigged with extremely handy rope of dubious provenance. The exposed traverse that followed one of the climbs also benefited from an in situ line and brought us safely to the final pitch. It's worth noting that unlike the rest of the cave so far, this pitch does have some loose material on it.

Following the stream again and with one final up, again with fixed rope, we emerged into a chamber where the character of the cave changes. The clean, solid and pale limestone is replaced by black and yellow shale and a sloping sandy floor that leads back down to the stream and the final ominous sump pool. I'm always in great awe of the people for whom this point marks the start of their journey, the cave to this point merely acting as a prologue.

With the sump marking the mid way point of our journey it was time to turn around and retrace our steps. It does worry me that from the sump back to the final pitch the only foot prints were ours, all sign of previous travellers having been washed clean by flood.

At the downstream end of the aqueous crawl we decided we were going to go for the full Little Hull experience and having enjoyed the squeezes on the way in we wanted to sample the duck on the way out. It is significantly quicker as it allows SRT kit to remain on and, for suitably attired cavers, not too bad at all my head remaining out of the water all the way.

Any chilliness from the duck was soon dispelled on the pitches and I was definitely properly warm by the time I'd finished pushing my tackle sack along the entrance crawl. We emerged into a stunning night, the bulk of Pen y Ghent distinguished by an absence of stars. It was though significantly cooler than when we entered the cave, a thin layer of frost shimmering on the bags we'd left at the entrance.

Arriving back at the car in Horton we discovered it wasn't Thursday anymore and we'd definitely missed last orders. Fortunately Mike's bar has not only far more liberal opening times but also a mind reader of a host serving each person's desired tipple without even having to ask. Squeezes behind us there was no issue with the accompanying cookies either.

Little Hull really is a fantastic pot and I can't believe I've made it to this point in my caving career without a visit. It has everything a classic Yorkshire pot should have, condensed into a trip perfectly suited for an evening visit.  

[Post script: Absolutely loving 'Adventures Underground' by Cordingly and Haigh, I've just bought its inspiration 'Underground Adventure' by Gemmel and Myers. The first chapter of which gives an excellent description of the exploration of Little Hull.]