Shuttleworth Pot / Witches II

Dave, James, Maz, Steve, Tom

Simpsons rained off yet again 🙁 Instead we decided to head to Shuttleworth as a few haven’t been down yet, and it’s good to go in pretty much any conditions. 

It was definitely a case of 5 people who really didn’t want to be out in the heavy driving rain, but not wanting to let the others down. Maz hid further up Leck Fell Lane in the fog texting and hoping (as we all were) that we’d mutually cancel, but sure enough we all congregated in the typical Lecktember weather for an uncomfortable change and a hoods-up march across the moors to the entrance.

Dave was on the rigging tonight, and quickly had the entrance pitch roped and we shimmied down. Round the corner and it was time for the 60 metre. This is awkward in places to rig over the top of the in situ rope, which has been hanging around for a couple of years now waiting to be retired from its misery, but Dave did a cracking job in getting us down the Diver’s Pitch in comfort and style. 

We discarded our SRT kits and headed up the mud bank and into the pretties. It’s always a nice wander up here, with formations like volcanoes and cupcake cases and piles of green sheep shit. Upon reaching the entrance funnel into My Newt Passage, James found it impossible to resist the warnings of its difficult escape, and slithered down to claim his newty trophy. Steve and Dave were also chomping at the bit and after some token hesitation they joined him. Maz and I enjoyed watching the cardio challenge that followed, with all three choosing different but equally exhausting techniques to make their escape from the muddy funnel.

After a look at the now-powdered dog bones and the cloud of straws at Dogger Bank, we made our way back through it all to the base of the pitch. The roaring waterfall of the House of the Rising Sump had become an eerily silent sump pool in the time we’d been looking around, and we began heading out. With the exception of a toxic chemical spill in the entrance shaft all went well, and we slogged back across the moor knackered, with some getting home past midnight. 

Photos by Dave