7th April 2011 - Swinsto to Valley Entrance

"Well, the water from Rowten runs into Valley entrance and the water from Swinsto does too, but joining a bit further along. If Valley entrance is in line with those trees and it must run generally in that direction. Now it can't be as far as Aquamole because that water runs into..." It had turned out lovely again and our objective for the night had been switched to Swinsto, which unfortunately we hadn't brought the description for. Luckily Dick's logical assessment of the hydrology of the pots above the Turberry road soon found us at an entrance he recognised. We left the rope on the first pitch in place 'til he was sure we were in the right place and then he was off down Swinsto's long crawl. I'd almost have preferred it had it just been a long crawl, the constant changing between hands and knees crawling and stooping putting me off my stride. At least it wasn't painful on the knees, the cold water numbing them quite effectively. The roaring of water grew louder and louder until the sight of Dick's light once again confirmed we were at the next pitch. As soon as I arrived he was down the pitch, the pace helping to keep us warm. It would have been nice to say that we then got into a steady rythmn of one person derigging the previous pitch while the next was being rigged, but Dick's fluid rope work tended to be heavily punctuated by my less than fluent efforts. "So if I'm abbing on this end, then the knot needs to be....". Still I suppose it's better to get these things right. One thing that did remain constant however, was the excitement of descending each of the spray lashed pitches, the water being the perfect temperature to provide maximum exhiliration. The through trip really is one of the Yorkshire classics, an active streamway, followed through constantly changing cave to a master cave, with the added benefit of a thirty second walk back to the car at the end. To top off a great evening we needed a good pint of proper beer, a large packet of crisps and an open fire to sit right next too. These three were amply provided, along with a very warm welcome at the newly opened Marton Arms. As with calculus and rural post offices, suppose you either use it or lose it.

1st April 2011 - Sunset Hole

With the end of the season rapidly approaching, Sunset seemed an aptly named cave to visit. Driving up the Lune Valley, large ponds of water in the flood plane gave testament to how wet it had been recently, but we hoped it had stopped raining long enough for a trip down this very active system. In all our memories it's just a wander down fine meandering passageway with a couple of little, free climbs before arriving at the main pitch. How different a place can be with a bit more water running down it. Both "free climbs" were rigged, the second especially, well clear of the water.

Having dropped down the main pitch, a rope ladder hung enticingly from the opposite side of the chamber, offering a way on into parts of the system I'd never visited. While the cave leading to the main pitch had been walking down a streamway, in this side of the caving we were crawling through what appeared to be washed out shale beds, almost from the off. A second in situ rope dropped us down into another bedding at the end of which lay a "final" chamber. On the return to the rope, Tom took a slightly different path and discovered the not so inviting corkscrew squeeze that leads further into the system. Fortunately none of us felt like even giving it a try, as we later discovered that it leads straight on to the top of another pitch. At the top of the squeeze lay a good number of chocolate bar wrappers. Evidence of someone spending a little longer in the squeeze than anticipated?

Emerging into daylight we made our way to a packed Craven Heifer. John's alibi for not going caving with us next week - he's going caving.

25th March 2011 - Ingleborough Cave

With sick notes coming in thick and fast from the majority of the team, a rather reduced party made its way from Clapham up the track to Ingelborough cave under clear blue skies. Even with only the background lights on, caving in a show cave is a peculiar experience. You turn your lamp off and it doesn't go dark. We quickly made our way through the opening galleries of what must be one of the prettiest show caves in Britain and stopped for some pictures at the first Gothic Arch. 

First Gothic Arch

At the end of the show cave lies the pool of reflection and again we stopped to try and get some good shots. Beyond this point the lights and concrete floor are left behind as you make your way through elegantly shaped passageway, floored with sand. John, Tom noted that this would make excellent building sand.

Beyond the show cave

A short pool led to the show caves flood defence gate before the sandy passageway continued, leading to a bend, which once rounded, revealed passage way adorned with curtains and the second Gothic Arch.

Second Gothic Arch

Up until this point the cave had been lovely and fluffy, but with a downward sloping sandy crawl the cave's nature changed dramatically. Comfy walking passageways were soon replaced with low bedding plane crawls and the comfy sand replaced with knobbly rock. Things could have been even worse, were it not for the nicely padded ladders over the wetter bits.

Beyond Giants Hall

Returning back up the sandy slope our hearts went out to egg laying turtles the world over. It's not easy to crawl up steep sand. Whether flippers improve or further impede progress is something we're left to ponder.

Huge thanks go to Sue and Bob Jarman for making this trip into their fine cave possible.

18th March 2011 - Lost John's in Derbyshire

Shares in British Airways have plummeted as John has found he doesn't have to travel all the way to South America to have an alibi for caving, Derbyshire will do just fine.

Those of us unable to make it to exotic destinations, however, found ourselves walking across the moors on a stunning spring evening towards a portal to the underground realm. So keen was Phil to once more be among caverns measureless to man, that he was 10' down the first pitch before it was suggested that he may wish to follow the time honoured tradition of attaching a rope to the pitch head and using this to aid (impede?) his descent. The initially restricted pitches soon opened out and we found ourselves descending down the side of a large chamber. Though the pitches carried on down to the roaring streamway below, we set off to explore the chamber and the passageway leading off from it.

After a good few stops for pictures during which the models and lighting technicians showed remarkable patience, it was declared time to head to the pub. The undescended last pitch serving as an excellent excuse for a return trip.

The Moon loomed large over a bank of cloud illuminating our return to the cars. Hopefully we'll still be wandering over the moors on crisp, still evenings such as these when the Moon is once again as close in 2029.

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The 2011 Christmas Party - March 12th.

The annual Easter Christmas Party was organised by John this year to be a trip down Browney Mine in Nenthead near Alston, followed by a meal at the Miner's Arms Nenthead.

The usual TNC team was swelled by a number of groupies keen to experience a fluffy trip and the party.  In addition to Tom, Phil, Dick, John and Ali, we were joined by wives Sharon, Rosie and Val and friends Brian, Holly and Anita.

The mines were fascinating, the over riding impression being of the skill the miners had in their underground world.  The sight of vaulted stone roofs, drystone walls and expertly carved tunnels made you wonder at their workmanship.  Still it was good to get out into the rainy, snowy night (not nice snow, more like slush) and to the pub for a great evening followed by a stay in the campervans and an excellent breakfast at the Miner's Arms before we split up for various Saturday activities.

One issue of note was the annual TNC Christmas quiz superbly organized by Phil.  The winner is not of importance as the quiz is just for fun but one couldn't help remembering the reaction of a certain member from last year on not winning see last years report here.  A year of swotting up on the lengths of every underground pitch in the Yorkshire Dales, the names of every cave in the Three Counties Guide and the terminal air speed velocity of the swallow were of no use when it came to this caving club quiz.  The excuses for poor performance were due in the end to the rigid thinking and inability to think 'outside the box' of the member who once again was left feeling that he had been robbed.

See some photos of the trip here

County Pot and Trident Series - 10th February 2011

As usual, to get a pint and of pack of crisps in one of the local pubs, we had to meet at Devil's Bridge, agree a plan, execute it, and collect evidence. The beauty of taking phtographs is that we can allow ourselves to go back to areas we have been to before. Even so, as we set off down County and headed for White Line Passage, it was still easy to imagine what it must have been like to have been first to explore the section of cave we were in for the first time.

Descending the County Pot ladder pitch

Dropping down the entrance series, it seemed friendly enough with the short pitch in place to keep out the faint hearted. Then some devious route finding through to the waterfall guarding the entrance into the trident series. We took about 15 attempts to get the lighting right for the photo here and then dropped under the wall to the left and into the streamway.

Waterfall above Trident Series

What a great sight to lean around the corner and see the thick white line shining up at us. The Trident area seemed quite complex but easy enough to navigate in fact. Back out, the rain had set in but the air was warm enough with a following wind back across the moor. We set off for The Barbon Inn hoping to find the big lady with the plate of sandwiches there again.

One of the many Trident passages

Stunning formations in little explored passages

Bizarre  'hanging' passage

She had kept them all to herself last week but there were four of us tonight and we would have her outnumbered. We had the regulation pint and a half and then started to think of the end of season bash which John is organising when we can push the boat out a bit more. A good trip which filled the day which included one incident I can't say anything about (this did not involve the big lady and the sandwiches). The possibiity of the TNC guiding a nice French lady on an evening trip was also floated. This appeared to have a good effect on morale.

Mistral and Gour Hall - 4th February 2011

Curtains in Gour Hall

5 o'clock came and went as we sat waiting at Devil's Bridge. What could be keeping John? This was his first chance to go caving in nearly two months and he'd be determined not to let anything prevent him from getting underground. Eventually after trying home landline, personal mobile, business landline and business mobile multiple times, John eventually answered. Too eager to get underground he had removed the panel from his bath, crawled under and was being dripped on by the outflow. The thought of having to get dry and be comfortable for the 15 minute drive was too much him and so as he crawled back under the bath, we headed onto the windy moors.

The irony of finding shelter from the wind in a pot called Mistral wasn't lost on us as we made our way down the freeclimable entrance pitch. Having negotiated the winding entrance crawl, Tom was soon back up to full speed, the passageway blurred to me by both the speed with which it was passing and the condensation on my glasses.

The passageway to Cross Hall and then onto Gour Hall must be some of the best in Easegill in terms of the continuity of formations, interspersed only by the occasional slither under the odd low section. As we approached Gour Hall a strange metallic ringing sound was heard, growing ever louder as we drew nearer. It's source, an upside down sauce pan under one of the shower baths that fall into the fine chamber.

Fine formations in Gour Hall

Another view of Gour Hall

With photos taken Tom produced a survey showing the Extreme ways extension from the Hall and inspired by seeing a new bit of passage we set off through a small hole at the bottom of the chamber next to the more likely looking old dig.

For the first time in a number of caving trips we'd actually got muddy, so the crystal clear pools that make up the floor of the crawl through to Extreme ways Hall gave a great opportunity to clean off. With time pressing/no rope for the next bit/further photos to take/fear of last orders being called (please circle favoured excuse) the climb up the snug aven at the end of the Hall was left "for next time" and the return made through the now slightly less than crystal clear pools.

Returning from Extreme ways

With only brief interludes for photos we once again quickly headed back to the entrance and back out into the wilds. At least this time the wind was behind us and it seemed like no time before we were back at the farm.

It seems that Ruskin had taste not just in terms of his landscapes, as a pint of his beer in the Barbon in tasted very good too as we pondered the hairless and rindless pork scratchings.