Author: Jason Clements

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Low Douk – 7th May 2014

Low Douk: Richard, Jason

It was my first time to this cave so Richard gave me a full tour.  First stop was the ‘second’ entrance (the ‘first’ having collapsed sometime last century).  This is a little way to the side of the shakehole and is a snug low crawl after a bold step over a blind pit.  Having reached a tiny chamber where it was possible to turn round, he suggested the pitch (“tight”) was a short distance on, and I was happy to take his word for it.

Returning to the surface, we went down the obvious shaft – an easy climb, despite appearances.  Then there’s a couple of slithery climbs down boulder chokes, arriving at a traverse line.  You don’t really need this (unless you slither out of the boulder choke too fast), but it’s a good landmark.

Traversing horizontally leads to a chamber.  Continuing his tour guide role, Richard led up over some boulders to the right and after a little crawling we arrived at the duck which connects to Rift Pot.  There was a good air space despite the recent rain, but apparently there was plenty of Low Douk to see yet, so we ‘reluctantly’ gave it a miss.

Returning to the traverse line, Richard invited me to lead into the cave proper.  It soon became clear why – attached to the traverse line is a knotted rope which descends into the famous meandering rift.  This is impressively high, and very meandering.  It’s true that it’s unsuited to the portly caver, but I was able to make reasonable progress without causing Richard too much mirth.  A couple of bends did need a determined exhalation to pass, but there was only one place that was definitely a size too small at stream level.  Fortunately, it’s not difficult to climb to a higher, slightly wider, level.

Eventually we came to a fine high chamber.  A hole in the floor leads to – more meandering rift!  This time it’s rather more accommodating and before long we left the stream below and came to a point where the high-level passage parted company from the stream passage, turning off to the left.

Following the stream down an intimidating climb (“not as bad as it looks” – and it wasn’t) leads to the sump chamber, but before we did that, we explored the high-level passage on the left – unknown territory for both of us.

The excitement didn’t last long – the passage turned into a muddy slide into a chamber which went… nowhere.  But the cave had a last laugh left for us when we tried to retrace our steps up the muddy slide.  It wasn’t very high, but was crucially lacking in hand- or foot-holds.  After putting on some fruitless acrobatics for Richard’s amusement, I admitted I needed some help.  A combination of walking round the wall with him pushing to stop me sliding down eventually succeeded, and it was Richard’s turn to supply the entertainment.  Much to my relief, he didn’t find it any easier than I had, but a small helping tug was effective.  All was well, but we agreed it was no place for a solo trip!

The journey back out was uneventful – if fairly strenuous in the narrower meanders – and I was surprised to see we’d only been underground for about 2 hours.  An enjoyable trip then, a good work-out with very little crawling and not too far to walk.

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Stream Passage Pot – 13th April 2014

Stream Passge Pot:  John F, Miranda F, Jason

This was my first trip to Stream Passage, and my first to Gaping Gill for quite some time. I’d forgotten just how far the walk up Trow Gill to the GG area was, and it was midday before we arrived at the entrance, though we had taken a slightly less-than-direct route across the fell (for reference, once you get the double stile in the wall, head at right angles to the wall, to the left of the main path.  Aim for a gully on the hillside in the distance and look for a shakehole with an oil-drum at the bottom).  We cleared the various bits of wooden sheep-protection from the oil-drum entrance and John rigged from a scaff bar.  At the bottom, there’s a little wriggle which emerges over the head of the first, short pitch.  The rope had evidently been selected with great care, and finished two feet above the ground – waste not, want not!

The passage from here is good going, meandering and narrow, but easy enough.  This leads to 3 ‘proper’ pitches in quick succession, all around 25-30m with a deviation apiece, but nothing too technical (which I always like!).  As the first is approached, you have to leave the stream behind and traverse in the roof which adds some entertainment.  John helpfully left plenty of traverse line and used the higher of two pairs of hangers to take off from – the advantage of this becomes abundantly clear on the return: I found getting off the pitch a bit awkward, from the lower hangers it would have been a nightmare.

The next pitch was fine, though a bit showery at the bottom, and I arrived to find John had again thoughtfully rigged a long traverse line across some deep holes in the floor leading to the last pitch.  However, this turned out to be over-generous as he ran out of rope some 5m from the bottom!  After a bit of re-engineering we were soon down.

I’m not sure I’ve correctly committed the route thereafter to memory, but I think we followed Stream Passage under a shower to Stream Chamber, around Mud Hole and on to Sand Caverns (where Miranda had fond memories of her 40th birthday party, which shows true dedication to caving!).  Then ducking through a low crawl on the right of a passage (the Portcullis) and arriving at the main chamber after about 20 minutes.

This was as spectacular as always, and not as wet as I expected given the rain in recent weeks.  Returning, I ‘gallantly’ offered to de-rig the first pitch, realising it would be the easiest, leaving the others to the highly-honed Forder skills.  Just as well, as my rate of ascent definitely dropped off after the first pitch, but all went reasonably smoothly.

The wriggly head of the entrance pitch, which was so straightforward on the way in, provided ample opportunities for entanglement, but Miranda and John waited patiently for me to unravel myself and I was soon on the final ascent through the oil drums.  This was the sting in the tail of the trip for me – firstly the drums were too narrow for me to lift my leg high enough to get my foot in the foot loop, so I was reduced to doing 3” prussick steps with my knee.  And at the top – how to get out ?  A real man would have pulled himself up on the scaff bar, but that was well beyond me.  Eventually, the time-honoured method of thrutching and extreme bad language did the trick, and the others effortlessly followed (having the advantage of shorter thigh-bones, at least that’s my story).

All in all, a good trip in a fine cave – nearly 5 hours underground – thanks to John and Miranda for showing me round!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Scoska Cave – 2nd February 2014

Scoska Cave:  Chris H, Andy G, Jason, Paul (work colleague of Chris), John (prospective new member)

Parking in Arncliffe, Scoska is a pleasant mile’s walk along the Skirfare, or it would be in drier weather: today the metalled farm track was welly-deep in running water.  Just as well it’s not a flooder….

A brief clamber uphill, following the beck, brings you to the impressive entrance.  It might be a child’s drawing of a cave – a big square hole leading horizontally into the hill.  Chris treated us to some geological remarks on the (clearly visible) porcellanous band.  In fact the cave’s roof follows the top of this band pretty much in its entirety, so the level flat ceiling stays with you throughout.  I can’t think of another cave so resolutely horizontal, which at least makes it very suitable for new cavers.

At first, it’s easy walking with the added attraction of large numbers of moths snoozing on the walls. Soon we took a right at the first junction and left at the next.  I remembered this much from the survey (carefully printed – and left at home!).  A little notice in the passage announced “Bears”.

By this point it’s hands-and-knees crawling.  Easy enough – but it does go on a bit.  Eventually we could hear the streamway some distance off (or was it the bears snoring?) and even more eventually we reached it.  At this point, I regretted not having the survey – which was the way on?  Turning left, upstream, turned into a lowering crawl in boisterous cold water which wasn’t inviting [the survey shows it really isn’t passable].  Meanwhile, Chris investigated downstream where the water went into a small opening.  He decided against going head-first into a deep pool [wisely – the survey shows a sump!].

That only left the passage off to the right we passed just before the stream.  I checked it out, thinking it would rejoin the stream, but it didn’t – just more hands-and-knees crawling in 6” of water.  After a while, the passage turns to the right in deepening water.  Was this a sump, so I could justly claim to have got to the end?  No, the passage continued, but it looked a bit of a mud wallow.  A determined explorer would have carried on, but out of consideration for the others who had stayed by the stream and were probably getting cold, I turned back.  That’s my story, anyway….  Checking the survey later, I was probably about 20m from the draughting choke that marks the furthest point of the cave.

Returning, we met a family group, warned them of the bears and reached the first junction.  Chris and I checked the left fork out for some distance.  This was more like a normal cave passage, with some variety and even a bit of calcite.  This also turns from walking to crawling to flat-out crawling and after a bit we decided we’d extracted as much fun as we were going to get from the cave.

Regrouping at the entrance, it was voted an unusual cave in that it had so little variety in so much length.  Glad to have done it, but may not be rushing back…  John admitted he had not fallen in love with caving but would try it again.  We’ll make sure he does!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Lancaster Hole to Wretched Rabbit – 21st December 2013

Lancaster Hole to Wretched Rabbit: Tim K, Paul R, Dave C, Arran C, Jason

This trip is becoming traditional on the Christmas do, but I hadn’t done it, at least not for a long time. Tim claimed to be a little uncertain of the route but in fact led the way unerringly along the high-level route. Owing to the wet weather, we thought the main drain might be too sporting for the low-level route, though the noise drifting up from Stake Pot didn’t sound too alarming.

Navigation was easy (it always is if you’re following someone who knows the way) apart from a few moments’ pause for thought at Main-line Terminus (it’s the second exit of 4 which leads to Stop Pot).  We were unsure of which Cavern followed which, but a mud sculpture gave us a clue when we came to Snail Cavern (although, by the same logic, it could also have been ‘Sausage and Two Eggs Cavern’ – at least, I think that’s what the other sculpture represented…).

We emerged at 5pm after about 3 to 3½ hours underground which wasn’t bad going, especially for Dave’s son Arran, a fairly demanding trip for someone his age.

After an unpleasant stagger across the fell, lashed on by the hail, we were greeted by the welcome smell of dinner cooking at the farm (thanks to Su, who nobly volunteered not to go caving!!). I was about to venture forth to retrieve the rope, but was saved by Barney who said he would use it in the morning.  Maybe he just didn’t want a hypothermia case on his hands, but I didn’t argue.

An excellent evening of fine food, wine and entertainment (thanks to that reluctant guitar hero, Andy) followed.

Eventually we retired to the comforts of the bunks, disturbed only by the rain rattling the tiles and thunderous snoring from a certain gentleman. (No names, as long as the customary bribe is forthcoming!)

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Boggart’s Roaring Hole – 11th August 2013

Boggart’s Roaring Hole – Andy G, Paul R, Helen, Andy J, Jason

 

The fact that a cave appears in Not For The Faint-Hearted always seems like a good reason to avoid it.  But I joined the others in Bernies before setting off to park at Cold Cotes, which at least wasn’t living up to its name, especially as I had just purchased my first ever furry suit !  NFTFH suggested it would take 6-8 hours to bottom the hole (9 pitches) and given that its target audience might be a little fitter than us, we decided to aim for a more achievable 6 pitches. Finding the entrance was not without interest – the path starts clearly straight up the hill, but it becomes vaguer and when you reach a level bench you leave it entirely to head left.  The entrance is big enough, and is near the edge of the bench but picking a way over the bog is a bit of a challenge.  Helen’s determined map-reading led us to the right spot, where it was a question of which hole to pick ?

 

It turns out that, with your back to Ingleborough, the correct entrance is towards the left of the depression, directly under a healthy hawthorn bush.  Going down a sloping boulder to the right of the bush reveals a Y-hang, though reaching it requires a certain amount of grappling amongst the thorns.  A machete would be useful equipment on a future trip!  The healthy state of the vegetation also indicated that this wasn’t a well-visited pot.  An unrecognised jewel of the Dales, clearly!

 

Anyway, when the hang had finally been found, Andy G rigged a very nice straight drop of about 13m.  The more obvious way on is the shaft to the left which is the ‘old’ route which only descends part way, so we turned to the narrower – and rather loose – slope to the right.  This leads through a narrow rift to a sort of tiny crow’s nest above the short second pitch (~ 5m).  Anticipating that getting off the pitch head on the return might be awkward, Andy wisely tied in the end of the rope from the first pitch.

 

From the small chamber at the bottom of the second, a short tightish flat-out crawl leads immediately to the third pitch – in the sense that as soon as you emerge from the squeeze you are dangling over its lip.

Fortunately there are a number of big flakes to grab while you manoeuvre yourself onto the rope – in fact I found it easier to climb down the first bit.  However, I wouldn’t have fancied rigging from that position and neither did Andy, so he handed the rope over to Andy J, made his excuses and left.  After a rebelay half-way down, a free-hang completes the final 5m or so.  After this pitch comes the novelty of some upright progress – along a steeply-descending narrow rift.  Easy enough to slither down crab-style, but something of a sod on the way out!

 

When I caught up with Helen, Andy was rigging pitch 4 (the amusingly-named Fever Pitch).  This is approached by the same tight rift, now much lower and with a playful right-angle twist to get onto the pitch.  A few moments later as I heard Paul approaching behind me, Helen was experiencing temporary enwedgement getting onto the rope.  The timing was unfortunate as she was making good use of acoustic methods to get free when Paul caught up with me – he suddenly decided it was not for him and followed Andy G to the surface for a nice walk in the rain.  Having seen how not to do it, I shimmied onto the rope fairly easily and enjoyed the 16m free hang into a decent-sized chamber.

 

From here, the way is – of course – a flat-out crawl.  This soon arrives at a T-junction where I tried to proceed through a hole, which I found utterly impossible to pass. “Struggling a bit in this hole…” I wheezed out to Helen ahead.  “Which side are you trying to get through ?” came the reply.  Evidently the wrong one!  Having reversed and found the rather obvious and much easier route I soon caught up to a pleasingly larger space – still low, but wide and comfortable as long as you avoid the two large blind pits in the floor.  From there, the short pitch 5 dropped into a modest chamber called Penguin Hall but alas, there were no flightless birds or chocolate biscuits to be seen.

 

Some more crawling follows, then a bit of a climb down, and more crawling in a blasted passage (take that how you want…)  Many of the drill-marks are easily visible on the walls; one can only speculate on the tenacity (and lunacy ?) of those who made them.  Finally another flat-out section leads to another short pitch.  Having run low on ironmongery by now, this was rigged from a tape in the roof, which was quite satisfactory.  While Helen and I caught up, Andy couldn’t resist investigating pitch 7 which was only a short crawl away.  But as NFTFH conceded that SRT gear might need to be removed for it, I was quite content to miss out on this.  With some surprise we found we’d only been underground for about two hours – it certainly felt longer!

 

For the return, we kept the same order at first so I derigged the first two pitches.  I was finding the going a bit warm (did I mention my new furry suit?) and wearing, so we decided that after pitch 4 I’d go on with the 2 ropes in one bag leaving Andy and Helen to derig with the other bag.  This was a great relief as it meant I could take my time and admire the many sheep bones that lend the place its distinctive aroma.  But first I had to get off Fever Pitch, which would have been quite amusing for anyone in a position to view the performance.  The only possibility seemed to be to reverse into the rift feet-first and push oneself upwards and backwards by hand, to-and-froing to release various bits of SRT gear as they caught in rubble.

A slow thrutch up the ascending rift was followed by the welcome sight of the entrance series of pitches which now seemed simplicity by comparison.  On exit, it was raining a little (we had missed a torrential downpour enjoyed by Andy G and Paul !) but it had very little effect on the cave other than make the entrance a bit drippy.

I was soon joined by Andy and Helen after a total underground time of a little over 4 hours, which felt like a good effort for a cave with so much ‘interest’!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Mongo Gill – 16th June 2013

Mongo Gill    Present – Elaine, John G, Jason

This was the third attempt on Mongo Gill in the past year or so.  The first time I’d been unable to whip up enough interest, and solo trips were frowned on by the publicity-conscious proprietors of Stump Cross on whose land it is.  The second time was snowed off – and probably the entrance would have been under thick drifts even had it been possible to get there.

So, third-time lucky…  I’d armed myself with a print-out from the excellent Braemoor website which turned out not to be strictly necessary, as Elaine’s guest was the author of the guide and knew the cave well.  But he insisted on me leading, which was a little like taking a driving test!

Richard (the owner) supplied us with a hammer, which we’d need to persuade the lock to open after an unsuccessful attempt had been made to break into the cave recently.  (It’s quite bewildering why someone would go to that much trouble to pirate the cave, but nowt so queer as folk…)

 

We first rigged Shockle shaft as Elaine planned to exit that way, then walked on a little further to North shaft, which we rigged in full.  There’s a couple of bolts outside the concrete entrance to rig a Y-hang from and an in-situ cord to act as a deviation for a free hang.  A drop of about 7m brings you to a ledge, with a rebelay for the final 4m which is optional as it’s not hard to climb.  At this point, it’s wise to take off SRT gear as plenty of crawling follows, and it won’t be needed if returning via the same exit.

 

The route is well described by the guide and isn’t hard to find, although at one point I was tempted to take a left turn too early but even if John hadn’t corrected me, it only went to a blind pit, so it would soon have been obvious.  The going is mainly crawling, interspersed with walking and stooping, and fairly level with nothing that could be described as ‘tight’.  There are still many fine formations, including some nice helictites

although it’s clear there must have been many more originally.  Apparently squaddies are sometimes sent through here on training exercises, which can’t help!

 

After about 30 minutes of this, a chamber called East Hade is reached.  A low crawl follows through what might be a duck in wet weather, but was little more than a big puddle.  This was either cool and refreshing, or horrendously unpleasant, depending on your point of view (really, you’d expect divers to be more water-tolerant!).  After this, progress tends to be more upright and includes some mined sections with dry-stone walling held in place by blackened timbers over a hundred years old, which call for some caution.  You can also see the remains of odd bits of mining equipment here and there.

 

We didn’t fully explore the lower reaches of the cave, but stopped near the point where the connection to Stump Cross is blocked by a collapse.  Richard suggested later this collapse might have been encouraged by the previous (security-conscious) owner, but it’s fair to say it’s unstable anyway.  Returning via a slightly different route, there is a greasy climb aided in part by an iron ladder.  As Elaine was having difficulty reaching a handhold off the top of this, I ‘gallantly’ turned round to lend a hand.  Having done so, I found my own grip failing so I slowly slid back down on top of her but pointing the other way.  After a short but hilarious session of 3D Twister, we proceeded in a more orderly fashion.

 

Elaine took a short detour to reach the Shockle Shaft exit (the guide’s description of having to swim through liquid clay is exaggerated) and I followed John out. Despite his claim to be a pensioner, it was all I could do to keep up with him, and the duck was really quite welcome to cool off when it came.  At this rate, it didn’t take too long to exit, and we got back in time for afternoon tea at the Stump Cross Café.

 

Although Mongo Gill is not a huge system, there’s plenty of interest and I didn’t feel I’d exhausted its possibilities at all.  Even though it’s a long journey for those not fortunate enough to live in God’s own county, it would well repay the effort!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Roaring Hole – 13th March 2013

Roaring Hole   Ed, Sophie, Paul, Jason

I’d wanted to revisit Roaring after a previous attempt under Mr Gordon’s leadership two years ago only got as far as the 2nd boulder choke due to the volume of water cascading down it.

It was new to the others, and my memories of the route to the cave were hazy – perhaps because of the blizzard that had been blowing at the time.  Consequently our search for the entrance (in a “prominent shakehole west of Braithwaite Wife Hole – you can’t miss it”) took a good half-hour of quartering the limestone pavement on Ingleborough.  (For future reference, turn off the path to the right only about 50m after the sharp right-hand turn in the path as it starts to pass BWH on the left).

Down the entrance climb/slither,  then the first ‘boulder’ choke (more of a scaffold choke) and the giant’s staircase made of rubble cemented into retaining walls – pausing only to wonder at the engineering effort that had gone into it all.  Ed rigged the first pitch, all the way to the top of the second boulder choke.  I skipped the second half of the abseil, not wanting to miss the airy tiptoe round the Bandstand.  The choke was much drier than previously, but what water there was magically found its way down the backs of our necks.  A short crawl followed, then another hole in the floor leading to another boulder choke apparently named after Morecambe Pier – again generously scaffolded.

This led to another chamber, where we had been warned by Helen of a ‘committing’ vertical squeeze.  Coming from such a hardened explorer, this caused some nervous anticipation – so the consensus was that Sophie should try it first (the slimmest, and least argumentative?)  She did so, having removed her SRT kit, so I followed.  It was snug, but the drop far from abyssal – by exhaling slowly, one slides down a couple of feet to a gentle landing below.  Paul pronounced his physique too manly for the attempt, so Ed came next but pronounced it ‘uncomfortable’, so retreated (a radical idea that – that caving should be comfortable !)  Sophie and I continued down a short walking passage and a climb down into Slab Chamber.  Here there is a near-vertical slope onwards and downwards.  It looks intimidating at first, but on closer examination it’s well-provided with handholds and makes for an entertaining climb.

At this point, Sophie generously left me to it, and returned to Ed and Paul.  True to form, at the bottom of the climb, there is another hole in the floor and another boulder choke leading to a streamway which goes on to the Rift with a pitch to the bottom.  However, I turned round at this point in case the others had tired of waiting.

The return journey to the Bandstand is easy, if more strenuous than before.  As I was still not kitted-up for SRT, I was tempted to investigate the in-situ bit of looped tat that adorned the first part of the pitch.  Together with a metal bracket someone had helpfully bolted to the rock, it is possible to haul oneself up the start of the pitch, after which free-climbing becomes eminently possible.  However, any feelings of achievement I might have had after that were dispelled when it came to getting up the beginning of the final climb out.  This involves a surprisingly awkward upward thrutch without the benefit of any kind of foothold.  Fortunately,  Ed’s knee, and a shove or two, provided the necessary impetus.

Apart from that, I thoroughly enjoyed Roaring Hole, a nice clean cave without being too aqueous, plenty of fun scrambling about and – I believe – can reasonably easily be done without ladders or SRT, which is always a bonus.

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Lancaster Hole – 21st November 2012

Lancaster Hole – Andy G, Jason

A select team gathered for a trip with few ideas about where we should go.  I wanted to visit Slug World, so we turned left at the bottom of the entrance pitch (breaking the habits of a lifetime).  The muddy climb quickly degenerates to a muddy crawl, but very soon pops out into a decent passage with some fine formations.  A bit of a squeeze leads into another chamber with some even better stal.  This is emphatically taped-off so we turned around.  The next time you’re waiting at the bottom of the pitch for 5 people to ascend, it’s well worth a ten-minute detour.

Andy expressed an interest in visiting the Graveyard, and as he’d been kind enough to bring a suitable rope for the pitch, it seemed churlish to demur.  Now where was the entrance ?  I tried a turning off Bridge Hall – a high rift, not what we were looking for, but it went on – might as well have a look…  We realised it was the Sand Caverns, a series of, well, caverns linked by some fun climbs and slides.  These went for some time until I came to a tight crawl leading to a low bedding chamber.  All I could remember from the description was that Sand Caverns had some ‘very tight’ connections elsewhere (the Crater) , which neither of us relished, so we headed back.

A few metres further down Bridge Hall was the Graveyard entrance.  A short crawl, the little pitch, then into the Graveyard.  I’d forgotten how well-decorated this is.  But the route Andy was after was down the big trench in the floor.  This looked impossible to climb down, until he pointed out the concealed rope at the right-hand end. This leads onto a narrow streamway.  Following this downstream, a crawl off to the right leads into the Stump Cavern Extensions (the earlier passage to the right, up a greasy climb does not go anywhere).  This turned out to be a series of protracted crawls, flat-out, but not uncomfortable.  However, he was not totally sure of how this linked back to the Graveyard, and time was marching on, and the call of the Black Sheep was getting more insistent, so we turned round and retraced our drag marks.

Back in the stream, we paused for a little wallow to wash the worst of the mud from the SRT kits, then were soon back in Bridge Hall, and out – just in time for a swift one at the other Hall (Whoop).  A grand evening’s entertainment – I’d been to three places in Easegill for the first time, whilst leaving some more to do on another occasion: completing the Stump Caverns Extensions circuit and (maybe) the Sand Caverns to Crater link.

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Cupcake to Committee Pot – 28th October 2012

The Cupcake – Committee Pot: Richard M, Tim D, Jason

I’d been looking forward to this trip: the combination of one of the newer discoveries in the Three Counties system, some nice pretties and a through trip was enticing.  But I knew my companions would take some keeping up with, they being well-known members of the species Homo Ferrous Troglodytes.

According to Richard’s informant, all ropes were in place except for the short entrance pitch, which was a bonus, so we were quickly at the bottom and able to see The Cupcake in all its glory

– along with many other pristine stal formations and a host of long straws.  Care has to be taken to avoid these on the next little pitch, and more fine formations follow.  The following pitch is aptly named “Mud” and is a portent of things to come, but the going is still easy although a generous coating of mud does nothing for one’s SRT kit.  Then there’s an upward pitch, short but made longer by having to wipe gobs of gloop off the rope at each prussik step.  The next section of passageway is reasonably roomy but requires great care to avoid breaking or clarting-up some more nice formations.  It’s hard not to see this section deteriorating with more visitors.

From here the trip showed its less agreeable side; crawls in sharp hardcore, then mud, then some tight bits before we came to Bendall’s Dilemma.  We had understood this to be a hard squeeze, but we passed it with only a little thrutching and cursing.  We were rewarded by emerging into the fine large chamber of Hubert Carstairs II.  Following on into Hubert Carstairs I,we were presented by a choice of ascending ropes.  Richard took the right-hand one and after some doubtful mutterings, Tim investigated that on the left.  I thought it important for someone to stay in the middle to relay messages (and avoid unnecessary climbing).  After a while, Richard located a third rope, much shorter than the other two, which was the way on.  There swiftly followed another short ascent in a rift.  Short, but tight and awkward, bloody awkward – at least to me.  Richard cheerfully said “you got your money’s worth out of that one!”

Not long afterwards is the “Inverse Superman”squeeze, a U-bend followed by a constriction with a lump of rock cunningly sited at chest level.  A curious balletic episode ensued.  Richard goes first, passing through like an eel.  Jason makes a feeble and unsuccessful attempt to remove his SRT kit, attempts the squeeze, jams his croll against the lump, retreats, advances, jams and retreats again.  Tim reaches over and manages to divest Jason of his harness.  Jason advances – and passes!  Two sets of SRT kit and a helmet are passed forward. Tim advances, jams and retreats twice, then calls for Richard to push from behind.  Jason lies down, Richard crawls back over him.  Somehow his mere presence encourages Tim to a final, successful push. Then Richard crawls over Tim and back through the squeeze to retrieve Tim’s descender which had parted company from him in the fun.

After that, I’d like to say it was all plain sailing.  I’d like to, but it was actually a long grim crawl.  Not without variety though; sideways thrutching, flat-out crawling in mud, flat-out crawling in water.  And all the way pushing a ball of tangled straps and mud that was the SRT kit.  Eventually – eventually – we reached the top of the pitches at the top of Count Lazlo Stroganoff’s Aven.  At least one could sit up, just, though I found untangling my kit and putting it on in that position took so long that by the time I got to the bottom Tim was considering mounting a rescue.  On the last couple of pitch sections, the noise of rushing water became more noticeable.  Could this be the Notts II streamway ?  It could – it was.  Hallelujah!

Richard had already headed out to derig, so we were faced with the quandary of which way to go.  Knowing the inlet (Sir Digby Spode’s) was between the exit and Curry Inlet, it should have been obvious to head downstream.  But by this time, I was beyond rational thought, so we headed upstream for a bit against quite a sporting current (which cleaned up the gear a bit at least) before Tim decided we’d gone wrong.  After rather more streamway than we’d been expecting, we found the familiar passage and headed out for the jumble of scaffolding, ladders and breeze blocks – and daylight.

I was quite surprised, having felt the trip to have gone so long I was expecting darkness, but it was only 4:15.

So, a trip I’d thoroughly recommend to anyone – as long as I don’t have to come with them!

PS – If, like me, you’ve wondered at the origins of the colourful names of the various inlets and chambers of Notts II, you can find some clues here: http://loveandliberty.blogspot.co.uk/2007/03/rogue-male-in-trap.html

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Lost Johns – 22nd July 2012

Lost John’s (or Johns?  Or Johns’ ?) cave.  John F, Andy G, Tim D, Ken W, Jason

The advertised trip (Boxhead to Death’s Head exchange) had mysteriously failed to generate a quorum, so the decision was taken to do something less demanding.  Tim and Ken apparently had more important things to do in the afternoon, so Tim shot off to rig down to Centipede, the rest of us following in a more leisurely fashion.  Having got to the bottom of Centipede, he and Ken did a smart turn-round leaving the rest of us to proceed to the streamway.

This went straightforwardly enough, water levels being surprisingly low given the recent ‘Summer’, although Battleaxe traverse seemed to have even fewer footholds than usual.

Time was not pressing, so we had a look upstream (until it got too small) and downstream (until it got too wet).  John announced he wasn’t going further downstream than welly-depth, but manfully continued until the canal section – he obviously had his big wellies on!

There were a variety of inlets, and muddy ropes hanging from the roof, all of which doubtless went somewhere interesting, but no-one was keen enough to take up the challenge.

The return trip was also uneventful, though slower due to reduced portering manpower.  I tried to persuade Andy of the merits of pantins (I’m a recent convert), but after faffing for a few moments getting it off the rope at the head of Candle, I don’t think he was convinced.   Anyway, we made fair time and were rewarded with the smell of warm grass about 4:30.