Rowten Pot and Sumps
Tall David, Scott, Sophie, Ami, Connor, Will
A day to remember, the 23rd of July
The summer sun beaming, not a cloud in the sky
The scene will be set, you’ll remember the tale
The boldest of feats down in darkest Kingsdale
Participants gathered and prepared for the task
Gear donned, bags packed and ready at last
They nodded encouragement and shouldered the load
Through the gate, up the hill, to the Turbary Road
Now they were not the first to scale the height
A tall, lonesome figure was already out of sight
Pressing on through the limestone, high up on the slope
Carrying a hundred odd meters of rope
David reached the lip of the cavernous abyss
The roar of the water far below, a deep rising hiss
Ropes prepared, gear on, figure eights on a bight
He dropped over the edge into eternal night
Down to the bridge, daylight glimmered above
Threading one bolt to the next, a labour of love
Traversing the ledge, the main chamber yawns
Below in the darkness the headlight adorns
the rock with a glow as it drops out of sight
The hanging rebelay does not fail to excite
Dropping through darkness, shouts overhead!
Lights twinkle down, ropes like spiders thread
Shouts, calls and whistles, the cavalrys arrived
The adventure continues, the plan they’ve contrived
The heroes converge on a water lashed ledge
Some toiling in wetsuits but they must keep their pledge
More ropes have arrived and the group presses on
Down to the depths where glory is won
With two final pitches, the end is in sight
The crystal clear water they’ve come for this night
The test of the brave, the feared Rowten Sumps
Are they true and wise men or absolute chumps?
Mixed views were had by those who observed
But the chaps were all in and would not be deterred
Scott, Will and Connor each took their turn
Slowing their breath, showing no self concern
The water splashed up as they dove through the gap
A fearful few seconds but they all had the knack
The rope was pulled taught, for that was the sign
For the next and the last to follow the line
Through sump after sump, a long winding streamway
Find the warm metal hatch and stumble out into day
Back at the sump, the others turned back
So far to the daylight, up there through the black
They climbed and they swung, higher and higher
The darkness and mist could not quench the fire
Ami, Sophie and David pushed on for the top
Weighed down and weary, but not willing to stop
The cave had been conquered, at least for that night
It filled them with fear, awe and delight
The sun it had set across the valleys and farms
And they drove like the wind to the old Marton Arms…
