A good trip to a fine cave – we didn’t get as far as we hoped, as the navigation isn’t as straightforward as the survey suggests. I’d heard it was pretty (it is), so took my camera, but all the underground pictures were well down to my usual standard. So here is a picture of an exceptionally fine formation above ground..
Andy G, Tim K, Josh E, Jason
It was a beautiful day on Darnbrook Fell. Normal people were gawping at the view or on their bikes, but we kitted up and made ourselves known to the farmress (is this a word? ‘Farmer’s wife’ sounds a bit un-PC). “It’s down there”, she said pointing to a manhole (tsk, un-PC again) and shaking her head.
Andy and Tim rigged up a fancy life-lining system despite which we were soon down the short pitch. A short bit of crawling leads to 1862 chamber, named after a fine bit of graffiti carved into the wall with a name and that date. I’d printed out a nice sketch map of the cave (thanks to Cave Maps) which I was glad of, as none of us had visited the cave before. This showed the way on was a crawl low on the left, leading to a sequence of crawly passages. At one point, you have to ignore the obvious well-worn passage straight on in favour of another low crawl on the left. Apart from that, the way is fairly obvious, though there are a number of distracting inlets.
The sketch shows ‘Dry Mud Tube’ which is exactly what it is – muddy but comfortable enough. This ends with a little drop into the ‘Low Wet Crawl’ – again, exactly that. Less comfortable, but with today’s low water levels, easily navigated. This pops out into McColl’s Rift, a high gallery which was a welcome relief after the grovelling. Going left starts promisingly, then abruptly stops. The way on is to the right, with the high rift giving way to smaller but easy-going passage. Andy located the start of Crossover Passage (another low crawl on the left) while Tim explored the rest of the rift before joining us.
Crossover soon finishes at what Northern Caves describes as a 3m pitch into the main stream passage. It’s even less than that, but on Chris’s advice we rigged a whole ladder for the return – the stream undercuts the pitch, so the senior members of the party might have found the climb up a little too challenging!
Where should we go first? Downstream is a fine passage which lowers towards the water. This must be the sump – but no, I crawled along in gravel to the left to a low chamber, which was clearly the end. But no, Andy had other ideas and found another low crawl – and a dive line. Sump located! But wait, didn’t the map show another sump off to the left? Sure enough, yet more low wet crawling led to another sump pool. Lovely.
Fully sated with the downstream end, we returned to the main passage to go upstream. This was a very fine passage, high and fairly narrow with lots of flowstone, gour pools and mud formations. At the end the roof lowers, the water deepens and clearly the upstream sump is close. The only part of the cave we hadn’t visited was the Worm Series, reached from the sump chamber. Nobody fancied this – it wasn’t on the map but it was clearly not called after small, wriggly things for nothing.
Still, while we’re here, we might as well look at the start, so we waded through the duck and into the sump pool (bracing!), but no sign of a passage off. Good, we can be off then! Oh wait – there it is, an uninviting muddy tube with water lapping its entrance… Well, I’ll just have a quick look. After wallowing a few feet, I realised Josh was following me, so I carried on rather than look a complete wuss. Then – glory be – a chamber! Small, but at least we could all stand up. Ok, have we done it now? Tim looked down an even lower, muddier crawl going off. Did I think it went anywhere? To be honest, I didn’t much care, so suggested that Tim have a look if he was curious!
He did, and we soon got a call “there’s a chamber”. Really? Ok then, let us imitate the actions of a worm again…. In fact, it was not just a chamber but a substantial cross passage. Suddenly we were glad we’d made the effort. Tim went left, Josh and I went right, he took the main passage, I checked out yet another unpromising muddy tube which went, and went, eventually ending in a muddy, bouldery ramp.
Meeting up again, we concluded that we’d pretty much been everywhere (which was confirmed by consulting the full survey later), so headed uneventfully for the exit – and it was still a beautiful day on Darnbrook Fell.
We were underground only a little over 3 hours and Robinsons’ probably only rates about ‘Calcite’ on the caving Mohs scale, but there was plenty of variety and plenty of fun, and you can’t say fairer than that!
We had a new-comers trip to Kingsdale master cave via Valley entrance (Roof tunnel), it was a bit damper than expected but everyone seemed to enjoy it.
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….
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.
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!
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!
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!
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!
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?