Category: Day Trips

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Lancaster Hole – 27th January 2016

Darren M, Gareth W, Jason

We went for a mainly unremarkable bimble down Wilf Taylor’s passage.  This was another area I hadn’t visited for some years and had forgotten how pleasant it was.

On leaving Montague West and entering Cross Passage (where you turn right for Wilf Taylor’s or left for Waterfall Passage), there is a nice patch of stal straws.  We realised that the dirt on them wasn’t from careless cavers, but was actually a tide mark – presumably before Christmas, the water had risen all the way up to here from the Main Drain!

A bit further, in Wilf Taylor’s, Gareth mentioned the foam on the walls.  “Blimey!” said I, looking at some fresh stuff a little above head height.  “No, up there” he said, pointing to some less fresh foam up in the rift roof, about 5m higher!  It had been very wet here some time ago….

Perhaps with thoughts of floods fresh in our minds, we didn’t spend long in the main streamway (which was sporting, but not frightening) and opted for a quick exit up Fall Pot.  I wasn’t entirely sorry – I remember making a spectacle of myself trying to get up Double Decker Pot on another club trip….

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Notts II – 13th Jan 2016

13.01.2016 Notts II          Damian, Andy (Damian’s friend), Gareth, Tim D, Jason

After the recent weather I feared the we wouldn’t get far, but as my last trip was way back on Hallowe’en I signed up.  As it turned out, water levels in the stream were pretty much normal.

 

Heading upstream, I had to investigate Inlet 6.5¾. The stories were quite true – after about 10 metres the passage is completely blocked with sand. No doubt someone will take this on as a digging project – the sand looks very easy to move, but it’s impossible to tell how much there is of it, possibly many tons!

We continued to Curry Inlet (I think – I’m never quite sure which inlet is which), which was even prettier than I remembered, although a tide mark around head height is visible on some of the stal. There were plenty of photo opportunities for Gareth.

At the far end of the inlet, a dig seems to be in progress, in disgustingly gloopy mud.

Turning back, we had a quick look up inlet 2b (or not..?) giving Gareth another opportunity to photograph Damian up to his chest in the canal.  The accompanying artistic shot is in a drippy bit of streamway on the way back.

Good fun, and nice to be underground after the long break.

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Notts II (Inlet 6.5¾) – 19th August 2015

Notts II – Inlet 6.5¾: Tim D, Darren, Jason

The advertised trip was Voldemort, which was why I bothered with the 2½-hour drive from West Bretton where I’d been all day.  But on the way, the rain set in and the prospect of pulling-through to find the snug crawl full of water was a little off-putting, so we decided to look at inlet 6.5¾ instead.

This was some consolation, as I’d never been there.  The water levels were back to normal from the torrent 3 weeks earlier, and we quickly came to the junction on the right of the upstream passage.  Some easy passage soon leads to the sparkling white stal formations.

A little backtracking leads to a left turn which links to inlet 5.  On the way are yet more fine formations, one or two sadly besmirched by a careless muddy glove (a mini conservation project is called for here – half an hour with a bottle of water and a nail brush would make a big improvement!).

Unfortunately, it also involves some crawling in disgusting gloopy mud.  There are compensations, though – as you wallow on your back there are some solution cavities in the ceiling a few inches away.  These contain some beautiful crystalline deposits and helictites.  I was reminded of the Oscar Wilde quote “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

Returning to the streamway, we continued upstream to the canal in inlet 2b (or not…?).  A good opportunity to wash the gloop off by avoiding the traverse above the canal and having a bracing wade, and even a brief swim at one point.  We warmed up again by a quick march downstream and out. As a final bonus, it actually stopped raining long enough for us to get changed!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Cow Pot – 12th August 2015

Cow Pot: Darren, Jason

It was 5 years since I’d last done Cow Pot, when I’d not been in the KCC long, so I wondered if I’d find it easier (having more experience) or harder (being 5 years older).

Darren opted for the ‘Sneaky’ route on the main pitch (or was it the ‘Devious’ ?).  The first back-up bolt is in the roof, the second is sneakily located just out of sight on the wall behind you as you lean out over the rift.  As you follow the rather alarming traverse to the left, further bolts are revealed.  Darren selected the first obvious pair for a Y-hang and eventually found two fairly extreme deviations from flakes (perhaps this was the Devious route) to reach the free-hanging rebelay at the top of the main pitch.  This was at the end of the first 30m rope, so he patiently hung around (literally!) while I joined him to hand over the 50m for the rest of the pitch.

This was a straight drop into the middle of the vastness of Fall Pot, and we met Tim D at the bottom, who had entered from Lancs.  He recommended solo caving for “concentrating the mind”…

I had no difficulties with the ascent (in contrast to the first visit, 5 years ago!) though it gave plenty of time to appreciate the slenderness of the excellent 9mm Spelenium Gold that was keeping me from a messy end far below.

However, when it came to the awkward thrutchy climb on the way to the entrance pitch, I found the years had taken their toll.  I had managed it earlier, but this time needed Darren’s shoulder for the final push – that’s another pint I owe him!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Penyghent Pot

Tim K, Darren M, Jason

To be honest, I hadn’t really wanted to do Penyghent.  When I mailed Tim to see if it was on, I was hoping he’d say no, so I could canvas a gentler alternative.  But not only was it on, it was a 9 o’clock start, after a late Saturday night (the Wave Pictures at Hebden Bridge Trades Club – fab!). So I gave Tim and Darren fair warning I might have to turn round before the end, but even this didn’t work – there were three full tackle bags, and three people were needed all the way!

Anyway, we set off up the hill, to the bemusement of some walkers and got to the entrance around 10.  A long crawl starts almost immediately (330m, apparently).  Most of it is easy enough, on hands and knees in 6” or so of cooling stream.  Water levels were low which would certainly help later on.  There are plenty of fossils to admire as a distraction from the frankly tedious crawling, which degenerates to flat-out towards the end, at the short first pitch, into a pond.  Then there’s another long passage, laughingly called Easy Street, which it is at the end, but most of the way is an awkward stooping height.  The last 50m or so when one can stand upright come as a joyous relief, even though it is waist-deep in water for a bit.

Then comes the second pitch, also short, and shortly afterwards the third and fourth which together form the only big drop – about 40m in total, but broken by ledges.  The nice thing about all the pitches is their straightforwardness, not a deviation or a rebelay to be seen, at least not in the relatively dry conditions we had.  After the fourth pitch comes the rift which more or less forms the rest of the trip – there’s a succession of climbs and pitches, none big, interspersed with a bit of wading.  Officially, there are 7 pitches in this section, but it was often difficult to be certain which one we’d reached – some are ‘free-climbable’ though Tim erred on the side of caution, some were pre-rigged with good rope (YSS, 2002 ?  – that’ll do nicely!), and he sensibly tied a handline on others that looked tricky on the return. 

Eventually we had descended the last pitch, dumped the remaining bags in a pleasant chamber and stumbled along the canal leading to the sump.  A pile of (probably antique) dive bottles were stashed in an alcove – my admiration went out to whoever had carried them here – they looked heavy!  We congratulated each other on making it – and in just over 3 hours, not bad.  For me, it was my first Grade V although my delight was clouded a little by the thought of the return trip.  But before that, we returned to the chamber for a spot of luncheon.  Teresa’s parsnip bread with Boursin, with a Double Decker as dessert hit the spot, and a cup of Darren’s hot chocolate raised the spirits wonderfully.

Returning, Darren de-rigged.  The pitches, being short were mostly untroublesome, but many aren’t bolted, and getting off wasn’t always easy.  At one, after a bit of puffing and grunting, Tim jubilantly announced “I’ve got my leg over!” – you don’t often hear that while caving.  And at another rift climb, my thrutching powers failed completely, but with Tim pulling and Darren providing his head as a foothold, I finally got there.  By the time we got to Easy Street,  I was fading somewhat, and the final exit crawl seemed to have doubled in length.  The other two having gone ahead, I plodded on, reflecting that as caves have grades, so perhaps cavers should have – mine being a firm Grade III.  Despite feeling that the crawl would never end, it did, and it was sweet relief to emerge into the daylight.  Ten to five – 6 ½ hours or so underground.  So, was I pleased to have gone on the trip after all ?  Yes – but even more so when my knees have recovered!  And thanks to Tim and Darren for doing most of the work!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Boundary Pot – À la recherche du tacklesack perdu

Jason

On a previous trip my tacklesack, with quite a lot of gear, had disappeared in the flood in Boundary Pot.  An Aygill trip was on the list, so I thought I’d go up early and see if the recent dry spell had revealed it, though I didn’t hold much hope.  Teresa reminded me of the folly of solo caving, but I assured her everyone would be delighted to come and get me out if I got stuck, rather than go to the pub….

 

I expected to have to do some ferreting around in water, so donned my neofleece and worked up a fine sweat marching over Casterton fell.  It was a relief to get in the cave, but there was no chance of a cooling splash.  Where there had been a waterfall pummelling us down a climb, there was hardly a trickle now.  I soon got to the crawl where we had turned round previously and as my face drew level with a hole in the floor – there it was ! 

 

I was delighted, and not a little amazed, but the trouble was that the hole was some 2m deep and too narrow to contemplate trying to squeeze into.  I hadn’t anticipated this, but I tried dangling a krab on the end of my belt, with the gate held open with the elastic from my spare light, to try and hook the tacklesack handle.  Quite ingenious, I thought, but it wouldn’t quite reach.

 

Conscious that I’d left a call-out note on my car, I left and yomped back over the fell to find my mates arriving for Aygill.  Did anyone have a fishing-rod, or long stick ?  No – why didn’t I try in the farm ?  So I did, meeting a friendly group of Belgian cavers, and I explained the problem in franglais (j’ai perdu mon sac, il est … at the bottom of a hole).  They were game for some fun and soon found a coat hanger, and some copper plumbing pipe.  This looked promising, but how to connect the two?  An appeal to Mr Gordon yielded some insulating tape, shoelaces and a tent peg from his van, so fully equipped, I set off back to Boundary.

 

The tent peg taped to the pipe proved to be an excellent fishing rod, although the pipe did need some bending to get it down the hole, and some more to get it out – but it worked first time and to my great joy, the Crunchie was intact in its waterproof box, so I celebrated by eating it (I later found my GPS and everything else none the worse for its underwater spell).  I exited with a light heart and returned again to the farm.  The Aygill trip was still in progress, so I dropped in to see the visiting party to pass on the good news and thank them for their help – to which they added by pressing a bottle of Belgian beer into my grateful hand. 

 

They’d had a splendid few days caving: exchanges from Top Sink to Wretched Rabbit and Flood Entrance to Bar Pot.  I assured them that the glorious weather we were having was typical for Yorkshire.  By this time, folk were returning from Aygill, so it was a quick change and off to the Whoop.

So, a most rewarding trip, even though I spent less than an hour underground in total!

 

As I was awarded Cock-Up Ken for losing the tacklesack in the first place, I now consider that I can justly reject and repudiate the award, so Richard’s original suggestion of awarding him to the Committee for carelessly mislaying a Treasurer should stand!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Boundary Pot (Boundary 2: KCC 0)

Darren, Jason

Having been unable to find the entrance on a previous attempt, I brought my GPS.  Eventually we found a small hole with a stream running into it. “Arriving at Boundary Pot” announced the gizmo, so I got into the hole, only to find it went – nowhere.  Darren gave a second opinion, and we scouted around for alternative entrances but found none.  We then tried a more promising-looking hole some 50m back that we’d ignored on the GPS’s advice.  This was it.

A short crawl leads into a decent chamber with a daylight shaft.  Another crawl leads off, with the way on being a right turn almost immediately.  Darren ignored this for the thrill of exploration, but soon had to turn about.  Back on track, we soon got to another chamber with a healthy stream cascading down a hole in the floor.  This was a 3m or so climb down, in the full force of the stream.

At the bottom, the crucial passage began.  If there was 25cm of air space over the water, then the through trip was on.  It looked wet, but possible, so I started off into the confined rift, blowing the foam out of my face as I went.  Rounding a corner, I could see another couple of metres of passage, but the remainder was hidden by a deluge coming in from roof. “Blow this” I thought (or something similar), and made to turn round.  What with the high foamy water and limited space, this manoeuvre took a few moments during which I left my tackle sack floating (the current appeared to heading to the chamber).  Next time I looked, it had vanished!

Despite having a good grovel in the freezing water, neither Darren nor I could find it, so somewhat chagrined, we gladly withdrew, climbing up the waterfall this time.  Maybe the tackle sack will turn up in drier weather, or maybe it’ll fetch up in the nearer reaches of Easegill in several months ?

Anyway, feeling the need to warm up, we headed back to Wretched Rabbit, pausing only for Darren to haul a dead sheep out of the Borehole entrance, which was very public spirited: it was still reasonably fresh, but in a few weeks it would have made a Borehole trip quite unpleasant.

We then went for a saunter down Spiral Staircase, fetching up at Holbeck Junction (I think) – ventured upstream in Thackray’s passage (possibly), then returning to the junction, up the boulder slope into Straw Chamber (must have been – certainly there were spectacular straws), finally returning the way we had come.  I had hoped to stumble into Stop Pot and return via 4-ways chamber, but neither of us was sure enough of the way, not that there aren’t plenty to choose from!

So – not an unqualified success, but I am determined to do Boundary Pot one day – third time lucky?

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Notts Pot – 15th February 2015

Notts Pot: Andy G, Scott, Jason

Meeting in Cowan Bridge car park, Andy revealed the 5 tackle sacks that would be needed to bottom Notts Pot.  Rapidly calculating that this worked out at over 1.6 sacks each, we soon decided that a leisurely trip to the streamway was in order, so we could leave two of them behind.

When it came to getting changed, Andy had second thoughts, no doubt wanting to put all his rope-bagging time to good use, but I soon talked him out of such reckless bravado.  I was already glad just walking up the hill to the pot!  On the way, we chanced upon an attractive bird (no, a fieldfare actually) feigning injury to lead us astray, then the perfect, but dead, body of her mate a few steps on.  Later, on our return, a small pile of feathers was all that was left – nature red in tooth etc….

The entrance drop was quickly rigged, although it almost looks short enough to do without a rope.  Almost.  Then a short crawl leads to a little climb down, described as “awkward”.  Andy had therefore brought a rope, but it was no more than a brief slither – what was the fuss ?  A nice section of typical meandering rift leads to the short pitch down into the Main Chamber.  From here, there are all kinds of choices for the route onwards.  We’d opted for the Centre Route.  A short rebelay gave a fine free hang without needing a long deviation recommended by the guide – a benefit of the recent dry weather, no doubt.  The second part of the pitch follows immediately, starting with a memorable belay round a big rock column.  This is also split into several sections.  While waiting for Andy on the last section, Scott and I heard voices from another party, but did not see them.

Then, to our consternation, Andy called up to say he’d taken a wrong turn.  Where could we have gone astray ?  But it turned out, he’d just descended the ‘wrong’ side of a big rock flake half-way down.  He had reached the streamway – but just on the ‘wrong’ side of a duck, which no-one relished tackling.  Shortly after, we all reached the streamway and had a quick look further along the high, narrow rift.  This would have been the way on, had we brought the rest of the rope and climbed up, but we were happy to turn back from here.

Andy led back up with Scott and I derigging.  Interestingly, we heard the other party’s voices again – this time from below – it showed how riddled the pot is with different vertical routes, and sound carries from one to the other confusingly.  The return trip was uneventful, apart from the “awkward” climb near the entrance, which I found fully justified its description – despite having seen Scott ascend effortlessly in front of me, I somehow managed to find a far less elegant route.

We all agreed it had been a satisfying trip of around 4 hours, and were happy to leave the full descent to another day with a bigger party of porters!

By Jason Clements In Day Trips

Out Sleets Beck – 2nd July 2014

Out Sleets Beck: Andy G, Chris H, Paul R, Damian, Gareth, Jason

It was a good chance to visit this recherché pothole in the empty quarter East of Pen-y-Ghent – as the entrance is virtually in a beck it needed the dry weather we had had for a couple of weeks.  As I expected that it would be new to all of us, I brought my new toy (a GPS) which informed us it was 1.52 km from the roadside.  A little later, it beeped ‘Arriving at Out Sleets Beck’, although I still couldn’t see the entrance.  Fortunately Gareth had been before, and pointed it out, literally within spitting distance.

The entrance series is a descending rifty passage and I soon arrived at what the guide described as an awkward climb down, handline useful.  I couldn’t see where to tie a handline, so slithered down with no problem (really, what was the fuss about?).  A more observant Chris found the thread, so I passed the rope back – a bit less to carry, anyway.  The next, short, pitch (‘free-climbable with care’) was soon reached – it certainly didn’t look climbable, so I rigged this properly and descended into a small chamber.

Ignoring the inlet (‘soon becomes too small’) we followed what stream there was down walking passage and soon arrived at Cascade Pot.  Clearly, we were in drought conditions: the stream formed a nice waterfall as it dropped down the pitch, but it was easily avoided without recourse to the recommended deviation.  The take-off is interesting – you have to climb up over some airy drops, and a slender rock bridge to arrive at a perch with a Y-hang, but having got there, it’s a fine drop some 15m down a wide shaft into a shallow pond.  We gathered at the bottom, only 4 of us now: Chris had turned back feeling unwell, and so had Damian, though the narrow rift may have brought on the malaise in his case.

Gareth led on, somewhat tentatively at first – for the first few minutes it was low crawling in water over gravel – but it was the only way on.  Had it been much wetter, it would have been truly unpleasant.  Anyway, the passage soon improved to hands-and-knees, then stooping, then walking in a rather pretty passageway. 

This led to Deluge Pot, again rather misnamed today.  Gareth found the P-hangers in the roof, and rigged a nice dry hang with only one deviation (albeit a bit of a stretch) instead of two rebelays.  From the bottom, Easy Street leads off.  As the name suggests, this was comfortable walking in an agreeable stream passage.  All too soon, the water deepened.  When it got to navel height, we all agreed that this was far enough on a Wednesday night, and about turned to exit.

This went smoothly enough, with Gareth doing the de-rigging honours, at least until the entrance series.  Unlike the descent, I found the short pitch to be an easy free climb, but the ‘awkward’ climb that didn’t need a handline on the way in was a sod, even with a handline and Gareth’s boot up my backside.  But Chris later said he found it ok – one’s man meat, and all that.

It was about 10:30 before we got out, so it was a late finish although some light lingered in the sky as we returned to the road.  There is plenty of cave beyond the canal we got to, so it looks like a return visit one dry weekend is in order, preferably with some neoprene!

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.