Henning Valley Cave + WHL

Dave, Tom, Scott, Pete, Nat, James, Steve and guest attendee Simon. 

Gathered on a quiet street leading out of Lindal-in-Furness rather than the Yorkshire Dales, we waited for the last car full of people to arrive. Questioned by the farmer about our intentions, and reminding them of their permission being given previously, we started cooling down. The last 3 arrived and our happy troop of 8 headed off on the short walk in to one of the longest accessible caves in the Peninsula. 

We quickly made the entrance and everyone watered the woods before walking into the entrance chamber, which smelled like a public badger toilet, lovely. We filed down the small hole in the floor into the bedding chamber and along the stream passage, which lead to a series of crawls interspersed with smaller chambers for a bit of respite. 

We had a rest in heartbeat rift before going through the last really tight crawl to the mosaic floor and the sketchy pitch down to the Crimson Crawl, which seems to be unaffected by the general water table level in the area, James flew off in search of riches unknown, shortly followed by Dave and Steve. This crawl, winding its way along a low, waterlogged stream passage, dotted with polished hematite leads to a natural rift, and intersected by a shirt section of mine level above a tight climb, which naturally we explored and admired the victorian era handy work. Satisfied we filed out and made good time, catching up with the tail end of the rest of the group. 

As the night was but young, and all the crawling so far hadn’t made us wet, muddy and tired enough, we nipped across the valley to Whitriggs Horse Level, to show off the museum of artefacts and the dig into the further workings. This was enough to finish us off and we emerged back into the frosty moonlit night at 9:30, a quick March back to the cars and a chilly change finishing off a good night of underground exploring new stuff for most of the party. 

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Alum Pot – Northwest Route

Dave, John, Will (Report by Will)

Ami proposed a trip in Alum Pot to the sump and back as she’s yet to do it. I too haven’t been all the way to the bottom yet, so didn’t need much convincing! We settled on a Monday afternoon and then invited any other available club members to join us. We didn’t have a solid plan, but it was quickly evident that the majority vote was for the North West route, the largest possible abseil into Alum Pot. With that decided, we got a team together being Ami, Dave, John and myself.

The day before this trip, we also had a trip to Curtain Pot which was a rather long one at 8 ish hours. The weather for this was dramatically colder than the last few weeks and we exited the cave to solid covering of snow, needless to say by Monday morning there were a few sniffles and coughs about. Ami opted out, and I have to admit after only 2 and a half hours sleep I too was feeling like a day indoors would be nice! However, Dave and John were relying on me to bring the ropes and so I couldn’t let them down.

Off we went as a trio, spirits high and rope bags heavy. Our chirpiness soon quietened as we arrived and climbed over the stone wall to what would now be the start of our adventure. John was the only one to have previously done this route, and so he offered to rig for us, and neither Dave or I argued as we stood on the edge of some 65-70 metre straight drop. Whilst John made use of the trees to aid him to the first re-belay, I took the opportunity to get some pictures with the drone, with mixed results! Had I known then how good the GoPro and phone footage would come out, I wouldn’t have bothered with the drone, but it adds an extra perspective.

It wasn’t long before the first shout of “rope free” was heard from John, and Dave gave me the nod to say he was ready to take on this beast! Again, John worked his way competently through the second re-belay, this time onto the “big ab” 60-65m of pure open air descent surrounded by waterfalls and incredible scenery. Dave followed on and then that was it, my turn, I couldn’t tap out now because they were too far away to shout to let them know!

Once through the re-belays and onto the big ab, it’s hard not to get caught up in the moment, we also got to experience some other cavers watching on from ‘The Window’ viewpoint at the bottom of the Dolly Tubs pitch, which is probably about a third of the way down the big ab. With them as reference, you could really put into perspective the gargantuan hole your in and you certainly feel the exposure. The bottom half of the pitch was a little wet but didn’t deter spirits as we all shared a moment following what is probably one of the best abseils in the Yorkshire Dales. John lead on down the final pitch, opting for an alternative to the topo along the opposite wall which consisted of a short climb up to a ledge for a traverse to the pitch head.

This way certainly kept you dry and avoided the waterfall that was yet to plague us on the way back up the big pitch. A specific rigging stance was required for this last pitch as John couldn’t quite work out if he was happier in the awkward crouch or using the traverse line to stand up and out over the drop. In no time at all John had everything rigged and was at the bottom of the pitch, Dave swiftly followed, and I’d opted to pass and get stuck into the climb back up the main pitch.

The topo suggests an 80 metre rope for the North West Route but I don’t own one so brought a 100 metre instead, which meant standing on the flop for a good minute or two pulling in the stretch from the climb above. By the time I was finally off the ground, I was absolutely soaked from head to toe, and couldn’t seem to get out of the waterfall. Where was this on the way down?! I don’t remember getting this wet! Every step up felt like it had an equally distanced bounce back down and it felt as though I’d never get through the water. As I was coming up on the bridge probably just over half way, I was out of the wet section and back into the incredible free hanging open space. The rest of the climb was actually rather enjoyable at a steady pace taking everything in.

When I got to the first re-belay I could see the distant glow of Dave and John’s head torches below, indicating their return from the sump and readiness to resurface. John certainly put my efforts to shame and absolutely flew up the rope behind me. I noticed he’d also had time to don his hood and he too got absolutely soaked by the same waterfall. Lastly came Dave, also pretty hastily, soaked and complaining of the same waterfall! A quick stop to catch our breaths, remove SRT kits, bag ropes and we were on our way back to the car.

A fine afternoon by all accounts, and one that we will definitely be revisiting in the near future given Ami’s absence. Maybe next time Dave will remember to put the pitch GoPro in place also! If we get a few more takers, we could possibly rig a Dolly Tubs exchange too, and avoid the climb back up North West, although it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be at all!

Curtain Pot

Ami, Jason, Scott, Tom, Will

We’d been looking forward to this relatively new one, which the CNCC claimed as a ‘splendid adventure’, and we accepted their challenge of ‘8-10 hours for an efficient team’. Jason had his doubts about a pre-midnight exit, but the rest of us were confident we’d get our 10-hour certificate.

After Scott and Tom fueled up with a Bernies breakfast we all assembled at Dale Head and grabbed the five tackle sacks (220m of rope) for the 4km hike to the remote shakehole high on Fountains Fell, with a brief pause while Tom jogged back to get essential anti-grumpiness medication.

Once we were in the general area that Jason’s GPS had led us to, we began searching the shakeholes, with nothing quite matching the description. Eventually after about 15 minutes we found the planks boarding the entrance slot up and began our ‘splendid adventure’.

The first 2 pitches led quickly down the splash-shield ‘curtain’ that gives the pot its name (thanks for the thoughtfulness, diggers), through a short narrow crawl and onto the third pitch, a pretty ab down a shaft that pops out in the roof of a chamber. 

Onwards down the short 4th pitch and we were into the biggest ballache of the trip, 100m of horrible thrutchy T-shaped passage, which would have been a breeze if it weren’t for the beefy bags we were lugging, which just kept sliding into the narrow grabby bottom bit of the ‘T’. Once this was behind us, we were into much bigger passage. 

This had some great formations, and no real difficulties. The cave let us know we shouldn’t get too cocky when a slab of the wall detached on touch, Tom leapt out of the way just in time but it continued chasing him down-slope, with a glancing blow to the arse. On we pushed down a couple of easy handline climbs and past lots more formations and a nice straw grotto up in the roof, before the character of the cave changed again.

From here to the bottom were a series of pitches one after the other, never more than about 20 metres and all with totally different character. We slipped quickly down them but we were all starting to feel the chill by this point, the air is damp and you feel a long way from home.

At the bottom of the twelfth pitch (the tallest in the cave), a narrow awkward slot wound down towards the sump, and Scott claimed a toe dip before the sump started gurgling and booming. We knew that rain/sleet was forecast while we were in, and everyone jumped out of their skin at the sounds and started clamouring to get back out of the tight bottom passage. 

And now it was time for the journey out. At the top of the 12th pitch, Jason (second to last up the pitch) sat away to one side for a moments’ peace to eat his sandwich, and it was only out of sheer luck that Scott happened to spot him before powering out with his derigging, leaving poor Jason stranded in one of the lonelier spots in Dales caving.

We made small work of the journey out as far as the more horizontal bits in the middle, but the chills were definitely setting in as we waited for the derigging duo to catch up to take their bags off them, and as soon as we had hold of them set off at top speed to warm back up. The thrutchy T-passage was nightmarish on the way back out with bags full of soggy rope, and we were glad to back at the 3 entrance pitches.

With the chorus of ‘FUCK OFF, FUCKING BAGS HONESTLY’ echoing down the 3rd pitch from Will, we waited our turn in the spray – the water levels were definitely up a little from when we’d headed in. Ami startled us a bit when the end of the rope started following her up the pitch, another near-stranding. Before long we were back up at the surface, to the surprise of a blanket of snow on the ground. We stood around in the biting wind as Scott brought out the last of the bags and we realised we were still an hour’s snowy march from a car heater still. 

On getting back to Dale Head we discovered we’d taken 8h14 from car to car – so not only are we an efficient team, but we’re at the efficient end of an efficient team! Great trip, great cave, horrible weather. RIP Eski, and respect to the original explorers – what made you look up here?

Photos by Will