Xmas Do at Gaping Gill (via Small Mammal)

Pete, Jason, Connor, Jasmine, Scott

It was hard to believe that a year had passed since our last mission to GG, but it was so. As before, soggy conditions forced us into Small Mammal, the least wet way into the system for mere mortals. I had been tasked with organising the trip, and so quickly delegated most of the ropework and bag carrying to other people, choosing to concentrate on the most vital aspect of the expedition – looking after the mince pies and mulled wine.
Unfortunately, fate had decreed that while the mince pies were unmatched in both excellence (Aldi standards, that is) and application, the mulled wine was to be hindered by a significant planning flaw. I had brought wine, stove, lighter and plastic drinking vessels – all exquisitely packaged to withstand the rigours of Small Mammal – but no pan to heat the wine. A quick straw poll at the entrance confirmed that no one wanted cold mulled wine in the Main Chamber (right answer), so the wine was abandoned at the entrance.
The rest of the trip was really good. Connor rigged the entrance pitch, Jasmine the big pitch, and I the traverse around SE Pot. We saw another team from the YSS coming down the last pitch of Wade’s, which confirmed our suspicion that it might be really quite wet on that route. They obviously didn’t let it stop them though, and they were leaving the Main Chamber by the time that we arrived.
The waterfall from the Main Shaft was colossal today, and crossing to the North end of the chamber necessitated a soaking just from the spray from Rat Hole.
Mince pies were consumed. Pete eschewed his in favour of a nutritious sandwich, but I didn’t hold a grudge, and certainly didn’t spend time calculating the distance, height gain/loss and calories of effort expended in transporting this most delicious (Aldi standards) of morsels to this remote spot in vain. Anyway, I digress.
We went for a look at Mud Hall. It remained large and muddy, with no sign of movement from the much-hyped earthquake of a couple of days before. Connor stopped to take photos while the rest of us traversed the glutinous slopes on fixed ropes to the end of the chamber.
The return trip was fairly uneventful except for the arrival of a couple of teams of student cavers into the system. One bold squad had canyoned their way down Stream Passage, and raced back up the Big Pitch of Bar Pot with impressive speed (as in, they totally burned me off by rope walking, the young scamps). Another team of the less experienced were being slowly taken through their first descent of GG (or perhaps any cave?), but we managed to reascend our rope in between their abseils.
Pete had had a rough time on this trip, with back problems and a headache – classic symptoms of mince pie deficiency in anyone’s book – but he took on the frustrations of bag hauling through the Small Mammal bedding crawl with an absolute minimum of expletives, numbering well below twenty. That bedding plane, when you’re tired, really is an Awkward Sod, and I’m almost tempted to trade it next time for the classic Bar first pitch (a vertical Awkward Sod).
Anyway, eventually all bags and people were reunited on the surface – thanks Connor and Jason for the bag hauling – and the bountiful cave water which had so refreshed our skins all day was topped up, reinvigorated by copious quantities of sky water; what a blessed relief, in the wintry darkness, the wind, the misty isolation of  the arse-end of Ingleborough.
We ran away. Eventually an excellent meal at the Crown in Horton blotted out most of the horror.
Thanks to all on the trip, and all in the pub afterwards for the fantastic Xmas Do.
Merry Christmas! – and I look forward to the rightful reinstatement of our one true Mulled Wine Operative on the next Xmas trip.