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A weekend of Notts (trip report, 12-13th October 2024)Saturday’s caving trip began more slowly than we hoped, as our plans for a prompt entry to Notts pot were foiled by a series of road based hazards. These began with navigating passing a large tractor, two horses, then the main event, of at least a hundred sheep, whose relocation to a new field turned out to be exactly along the road we were trying to drive up. The sheep were clearly unaware of how much SRT our Great Leader Russell had planned, and spent half an hour ambling up the road, stopping regularly for a snack on the hedgerows as we passed. We were eventually free of them however, only to be immediately faced with a rapidly oncoming land rover and large trailer, which proved another challenge to navigate around. The final straw of the car journey was the suicidal pheasant, who fortunately just managed to miss the front of our car. On finally reaching our destination, we quickly changed into full caving kit, filled all possible pockets with titan bars, and headed off on a rapid walk across the fell to the cave, filled with optimism and confidence. The entrance itself was a steep sided hole, perfectly set up for Ben, Marie and Buck to observe as I, under the excellent tuition of Russell rigged the first pitch and rebelay into the cave system. This was both harder and easier than I’d imagined; I did fortunately remember the knots but didn’t anticipate the number of readjustments required to make everything the right length. After the rigging was eventually complete, and we descended into the cave, followed a short crawl and quick in situ pitch into Three Ways Chamber. A gentle traverse and another short pitch took us to the beginning of the harder SRT, when Russell took over rigging, displaying remarkable agility and fearlessness as he rigged a pitch down onto a ledge, an exposed traverse around the side of the cavern and another pitch into the yawning abyss, which it was possible to reach only by wedging one leg either side of a huge drop while attaching the descender with your hands. An excellent descent was then followed by another traverse and pitch and deviation, ending at another ledge next to yet another large drop. Ben and I began to realise that this was more technical and exposed than we had ever done before, and when Russell asked how the pitch had been, Ben replied that “it was fine, it just violates my evolutionary bias towards survival”. A final pitch took us into the lower streamway, which we ascended gently to another awkward traverse. Ben and Marie were then descended upon by a very lost animal, possibly a bird, or a bat, but definitely far deeper in the cave than it should have been. Next came one of the more complex pitches, involving a tri-hang expertly rigged to avoid rope rub, and a very tight descent, swinging at the end into a ledge that involved another slightly chaotic Kitty crash into the cave wall. A slightly complex manouevre then ensued, as Buck moved to the front of the group to rig with Russell, clambering above and below Ben, Marie and I whilst we balanced above the rift. A final traverse then took us to the top of the last big pitch, which Ben and I decided was beyond us, and we eventually managed to communicate a collective U-turn. This was delayed slightly by the loss of Marie’s light, which seemed lost but serendipitously washed its way back down the stream to where Russell had descended to rescue it. A team meeting then followed, all safely clipped into the same bolt as we perched on the largest ledge available to us, where we refuelled, and made an Exit Plan. Buck was to rapidly ascend to ensure we didn’t miss our callout, followed by Ben and I, with Russell and Marie derigging at the rear. Ascending to the top of the first pitch, I was for once glad I was small, as the very tight top of the pitch meant very little space for your knees when prussiking. I awaited Ben sat wedged in the rift with the streamway far below me, musing how odd it was that it felt like I was really high up, when I was actually very low down. A series of formidable ascents then followed. We were fully acquainted with the challenges of tackle sacks, how to tangle yourself up in cows tails in the most annoying ways possible, and the best and worst ways to navigate rebelays. A few choice swear words, exclaims of “I’m actually going to die” and plenty of encouragement from other members of the team brought us up the final few pitches, climbs and traverses, and I exited into the open air to find Buck and a clear starry night greeting me. Ben then appeared, unclipped from the final pitch, and embraced the earth beneath him, his delight at being both alive and on solid ground evident. “That”, Ben said as the clock struck 10:15pm and the last of the group exited the cave, “was powerful”. Sunday’s trip was everything that Saturday wasn’t - largely flat, wet, and entirely SRT free. We, Kitty, Ben, Joel, Josh, Lara, and Lara’s Dad, headed back to Leck Fell for Notts 2, described by some as the perfect cave, with one of the lowest effort-to-reward ratios possible. Spirits were high as we descended through the iron kiln, a majestic array of scaffolding, ladders and breeze blocks engineered to take us down to the Notts 2 streamway. A few short climbs then followed, before we met the stream itself. The journey through the streamway was excellent as always, easy going, pretty and scattered with stalactites for constant entertainment. The depth of the stream steadily increased, until it was up to my shoulders and we decided it was time to turn around. A light picnic of the obligatory titan bars followed, before a return through the streamway, a couple of climbs back up and a very enjoyable ascent up the iron kiln. After 2 hours in the cave, we decided we had done enough for the day and earnt a trip to the Cowan Bridge tea room, which despite being closed, had a very kind owner who recognised the caver’s need for tea, and readily bestowed upon us large helpings of tea, cake, scones, jam and cream. The valiant efforts of Joel meant nothing went to waste, and after the last of the cream was scraped from our plates, we headed back to the car, and concluded that it had been a thoroughly excellent day. -- Kitty Knight, Feb. 8, 2025. Category: Caving |
Giants Round Trip, with a small detour to East Canal (trip report, 1st Feb)By the bright (read: overcast) and early time of about 1pm, after a characteristically slow Saturday morning, we were at the entrance to Giants Hole and groaning about the other cars parked outside. The lineup: Russell (this trip’s moustache-less mastermind and bearer of the luncheon), myself (Buck, the extemporary and somewhat interpretive navigator), Joe (the hardened SRT veteran who’d survived the post New-Years’ trip, already back for more), Darcy (the horizontal caver we were about to throw down some pitches), and Matt (the bright-eyed fool we conned into going to East Canal for his first trip underground). With chattering teeth and high spirits, we kitted up and entered the cave. Quickly reaching the top of Garlands pitch, we found it already rigged with both rope and a ladder. I rigged our own rope beneath Aberystwyth’s whilst Russell made sure everyone was acquainted with their SRT harnesses, then he headed down the pitch whilst I brought up the rear. Next came the Crabwalk, a delightful narrow streamy passage with countless twists and turns, interrupted by a handful of climbs down small waterfalls. Overall an excellent bit of caving. My favourite part was forcing myself through a very small and pointless oxbow about a metre off the ground. There was also a small arm-sized hole that connected two ends of a meander which you can stick your hand through to grab your friends as as they come round the corner. Theoretically. After introducing Matt to his first sump, we headed through Eating House and under the small waterfall to look for the way onwards to Geology Pot. This involved a partially-rigged rift traverse around 5 or more metres above the floor. In hindsight, we should’ve climbed down to the floor, walked along the bottom, then climbed back up where the rope started, but instead we elected to traverse along the whole way, which was awkward but doable. After this, we soon reached the top of Geology Pot. I descended first, then waited whilst Russell oversaw the others on their way down. Geology Pot is marked as 11m on the survey, but it looked more like 15m at least to me. Regardless, it’s a lovely pitch, and we decided it was the perfect place to gorge ourselves on the feast sequestered within Russell’s daren drum (we definitely weren’t just putting off the Far Curtain duck we knew was coming soon). For lunch we had Russell’s signature pitta bread and Big Beans, along with my chocolate flapjacks, all of which were very well received, and we exited the group shelter feeling energised and ready for the upcoming duck. After descending one more short pitch, there we were, the tunnel sloping down to meet the water ahead of us, a tiny pocket of airspace remaining at the ceiling’s apex. On hands and knees, we charged through. It was a fairly nice duck, as far as they go. Turning my head to one side, the water only just reached as high as the corner of my mouth, and it was only a couple metres long at most. We were, of course, all thoroughly drenched, so didn’t hesitate to forge on quickly towards East Canal in the interests of staving off the cold. East Canal is a magnificent flooded chamber, at least 10m tall, with the water stretching off into the darkness towards the sump to the left. Staying close to the right-hand wall, we managed to wade through the water and mud to a ledge from which you could shine your torch all the way to the far, sumpward end of the chamber, in which there was a small hole, which appears on the survey to lead to another, much smaller chamber, also flooded. Once we felt we’d adequately appreciated our destination, we turned around and began the journey out. We quickly made it back to and through the duck, and made it back up the pitches with only some minor issues (Joe’s glasses fogged up as he was climbing off the pitch head before Geology Pot, and, sensing his struggle, his light attempted to jump ship). Another moment of particular note was at the top of Geology Pot, as me and Matt waited for the others to ascend. I asked Matt how the trip compared with what he’d been expecting. His answer was’ I thought it would be harder.’ It was at that moment that I remembered Matt was the only one of us on the trip who hadn’t worn a wetsuit, and I suddenly began to wonder whether my trembling was from cold, or from fear. Feeling a bit more sensible, we climbed down from the traverse once we reached the end of the ropes this time, and climbed back up a short way on the regain the higher-level passage. Once back near Eating House, we looked around for the 3m climb up into the even higher-level passages that would let us bypass most of the Crabwalk on the way out. Russell sniffed it out and we ascended, and I proceeded to confidently lead us for twenty minutes up a large vadose passage before realising it was starting to look a lot less like the way out and a lot more like someone’s chossy boulder choke. Turns out we were in Maginn’s Rift, and not on our way towards Giant’s Windpipe. It was a very nice rift up until that point, but by now it was getting a little late, so we quickly turned tail and made our way out, Russell in the lead this time since he’d done the round trip before. Back on track, we soon encountered the ominous sign heralding the Giant’s Windpipe. With little hesitation, we got on our stomachs and began dragging ourselves through. I’m not going to say it was a pleasant bit of cave, but it certainly wasn’t bad, especially given we were already soaked anyway from the duck earlier. After slithering through, our higher-level passage began to closer to the lower-level route, until we reached the section with a hole in the floor and a metal ring rigged to allow for pull-throughs down into the beginnings of the Crabwalk. Russell, however, assured us there was a natural we could rig off further on, which would provide a better descent down, so we traversed overtop this hole and continued to the next one. In the interests of time, Russell and I decided to belay the other three down the 14m rift to the Crabwalk, then free-climb down after them, as the walls were sufficiently close that an uncontrolled fall would’ve been quite difficult. The plan went smoothly, and soon we reached the bottom of Garland’s Pitch. Given it wasn’t far off 8pm by this point, we agreed that Russell and the other three would head out whilst I de-rigged. However, on my way out, I was surprised to see lights ahead in Boss Aven. At first I assumed my group had decided to wait for me, but it turned out to be around 20-30 children, plus some instructors, all in caving gear, just sat in the chamber. At 8pm on a Saturday??? Well, nevermind, I wanted to rejoin my group, so I jogged past them with a wave and caught up with the others just before the entrance. Spirits were nice and high as we exited the cave, even in the face of the cold changing experience waiting for us at Russell’s car. However, the post-trip high quickly turned to panic as a line of lights appeared in the distance, marching towards us whilst we were all half-naked outside the car. We hurriedly finished changing as the army of children came past and boarded their minibus. With that disaster just about narrowly avoided, we loaded up into Russell’s car (the seat warmers in that thing are truly amazing) and were on are way back to the warmth of the caving hut. Oh, wait, nevermind, we’re at the Orpheus! -- Buck Blake, Feb. 8, 2025. Category: Caving |
A quiet weekend in the Peak (weekend report, Orpheus, 31st Jan to 2nd Feb)Due to last minute car disasters and also some cancellations, we left Cambridge with two cars rather than three, and only nine people between them. The Blue Box was very roomy indeed during the relatively short drive to Derbyshire, what with all the club kit stashed in the roof box, and one of the back seats down to accommodate the food and personal bags. We chatted almost the entire time, Alice driving, myself in the passenger seat, and Darcy and Matt in the back, and it wasn’t even 9pm by the time we arrived at the Orpheus! Harry and Charlotte had cycled all the way from Sheffield earlier that day, with Hannah and Lucy joining them by car, so the place was already unlocked, but no sooner had we entered the hut than we were reminded of the deathly cold that constantly pervades that place. Most of us huddled around the tiny fireplace, trying to get it going, but Alice and I were intent on finding a mysterious gift Lucy had told us was left at the hut for Alice by a ‘secret admirer’. She of course refused to tell us where this gift was. After searching far and wide (and with a couple small hints from Harry) Alice eventually found a pack of Haribos on the cutlery draw addressed to her. Apparently they’d forgotten she’s vegetarian! As the night progressed, more and more people arrived. It wasn’t full by any means, but it wasn’t quite as quiet as we’d feared either. Russell’s car arrived, with Lawrence, Jago, Ollie, and Joe. Lara and Rostam also joined us, having fled the carnage unfolding at the TSG. All in all an excellent night, if somewhat less energised than most caving weekend Fridays. The next morning was a slow one, the main highlight being Jago forgetting we were driving to the caves this weekend, and fully kitted up before alice had to tell him he wasn’t allowed in her car like that, and he had to get changed again. Russell and I spent a while working out what ropes we needed for our trip to East Canal, but eventually, by the bright and early time of about 1pm, we were at the entrance and groaning about the other two cars parked outside. Accompanied by Darcy, Joe, and Matt, we made good time to East Canal, stopping for lunch at the foot of Geology Pot before the Far Curtain duck. As usual on Russell’s trips, the lunch was an excellent one (Big Beans were of course present) and we soon found ourselves gazing across the waters of East Canal towards the sump. The way out was a little less straightforward. After climbing into the higher level passages, I proceeded to confidently lead us for twenty minutes up a large vadose passage before realising it was starting to look a lot less like the way out and a lot more like someone’s chossy boulder choke. Turns out we were in Maginn’s Rift, and not on our way towards Giant’s Windpipe. It was a very nice rift up until that point, but by now it was getting a little late, so we quickly turned tail and made our way out, Russell in the lead this time since he’d done the round trip before. The rest of the trip went smoothly and we were out just after 8pm, having passed a large group of children and instructors in Boss Aven on our way out (at 8pm? On a Saturday???). Spirits were nice and high as we exited the cave, even in the face of the cold changing experience waiting for us at Russell’s car. However, the post-trip high quickly turned to panic as a line of lights appeared in the distance, marching towards us whilst we were all half-naked outside the car. We hurriedly finished changing as the army of children came past and boarded their minibus. With that disaster just about narrowly avoided, we loaded up into Russell’s car (the seat warmers in that thing are truly amazing) and were on are way back to the warmth of the caving hut. Oh, wait, nevermind, we’re at the Orpheus! Back at the hut, we found dinner already cooked (thanks Harry, Hannah, and Charlotte!), and, best of all, THERE WERE TWO DOGS IN THE HUT. A couple friends of the Sheffield contingent’s had brought them and they were absolutely lovely. Once again we were joined by Rostam and Lara, along with Ben and Rachel. Alice’s group filled us in on the chaos of their trip to the incredibly muddy Nettle Pot: not only had they brought the wrong rope lengths, but on the way out Alice had managed to accidentally pull the rope up the main pitch after her, leaving the rest of the group stranded until Ollie managed to free climb 6m above a 30m drop and unsnag it. The main highlight that evening for me was the discussion of the evolution and di-verse-ity of various songs, interspersed with Rostam’s frequent singing. The next morning was a little more efficient than the last. Alice and I set off in the Blue Box, once again along with Darcy, Joe, and Matt, intending to do Red Rake mine. However, when we arrived, we found a large group of Aberystwyth kitting up outside, who told us they already had yet another group already in the mine. Fearing SRT traffic jams, we turned around and hurriedly began thinking of other plans. The first suggestion was Jug Holes, but Alice then suggested Streaks Pot, which Ben had recommended to her. After having a look for the location online, I found coordinates for ‘Streaks Cave’, which Alice assured me would be the same place. We drove there, then called Ben to ask some questions about the cave. He told us there was one pitch at the beginning, but you could traverse across the top then use an in-situ handline to descend without kit. He ended the call with ‘but make sure you go in Streaks Pot, not Streaks Cave, Streaks Cave is just a miserable crawl’. Luckily, the two were located close together, so only had to drive a short ways to find a suitable parking spot. Reluctantly changing into our wet kit (except Alice who’d had a nice dry, if a bit muddy, trip the day before) and walked up the side of the gorge. It was also around this point that both Joe and Matt announced their knees weren’t feeling great after yesterday’s trip. Good thing today’s caving would be fairly short! After finding the small entrance to Streaks Pot, I crawled in and started across the traverse. Blimey, I thought, this traverse a bit wide and exposed! And it’s 15m up too! Skeptical, I exited the cave and asked Alice to take a look in case I was being overcautious. She took one look and declared she wasn’t even sure her legs would bridge the gap. Time to come up with a different plan! Luckily Alice had noticed we were near Carlswalk Cavern, which apparently Charlotte had told her was shit, but with little other option, we set off walking down the road (it was luckily quite a sunny day, so none of us were too put out by all the walking around aboveground!). We eventually found what I believe to be the Gin Entrance on the survey, and set off exploring with no clue as to what the cave had in store for us. Alice tried forcing herself through small holes whilst Darcy poked her, then we climbed down a hole into a crawl that ended in a 3m climb between two perfectly smooth walls (which we elected not to attempt). After climbing back out the hole, we continued down the wide, just about walking-sized passageway as it became increasingly full of water and lowered to a stoop. Eventually Matt’s knee grew too uncomfortable, so him and Alice headed out whilst Darcy, Joe, and I continued exploring. Given the shape of the passageways, we concluded that if Carl really had walked down here, he must have been shaped like a pancake with very short legs. After crawling around for a while, the passages getting smaller and smaller, we eventually turned back, singing increasingly deranged versions of ‘head, shoulders, knees, and toes’ as we did so. We ran into Alice and Matt on the way out, pretty much where we’d left them (turns out they’d just had a poke around some less crawly passages), and the five of us left the cave together and returned to the car. After changing and warming up, we embarked on an impressively talkative journey for a Sunday drive home. Thank you to everyone who went for a brilliant weekend caving! The caving on the first day was much more successful than the second, but the company was excellent on both. -- Buck Blake, Feb. 8, 2025. Category: Caving |
My take on 2 more days underground: Derbyshire 25th – 27th with Sheffield2022-02-25 Having been very sad to have missed out on the beautiful caves of south Wales I was very excited for my second caving trip, to Derbyshire. I cycled over to the Tackle Store (my cake nearly bouncing out my backet many times), and we picked up all the kit, then headed off for the relatively short drive in Alice’s car. It wasn’t long however, before we pulled off the road to a muddy spot beside a footpath sign…. time for the part one of the Three Course Drive. Forget college formals, the three course drive was the pinnacle of fancy meals: starter 5m in the air on a stack of hay, with houmous and carrots laid out on the picnic blanket. An interlude of singing in the car followed, with all the instrumental parts covered (I mostly stuck to drumming which may have resulted in some squidged pie later). For the main course in a field we set up a ring of candles to keep out unwanted spirts and enjoyed Harry’s curry and rice, with Alice’s mushroom pie (that she fabulously made gluten free), before we had a chat with the local police (a bit concerned about two cars in a dark spot with rope, though they weren’t bothered by our meal/summoning circle). Another drive singing loudly & joyously before we reached the pudding stop underneath Chesterfield cathedral’s wonky spire. I had contributed a slighlty disastrous chocolate & coffee cake to this on top of Alice’s tiffin. We approached the caving hut belting out Jerusalem (or more precisely, drove past it turned around and started again) and there met the Sheffield cavers. With this lovely lot we stayed up late – mattresses brought down to the sitting room made into a fighting ring for some very intense sock battles, including an all on all match to conclude (I found out I am terrible at sock fighting). There was dancing, and chat, before heading to bed where I snuggled into my sleeping bag on the floor. The next morning (after a 4am bedtime) we had a long breakfast and long time descending where to go. I was in Alice’s car, and after getting a bit lost (sightseeing the pretty countryside?) it turned out we were going shopping in Buxton. Here we visited an outdoor clothes charity shop (such a cool place!), and I made two fantastic purchases: a buff for 50p to replace my one that has mysteriously disappeared, and a £10 wetsuit. Then we headed up to a hilltop on a muddy lane to begin Knotlow Cave. A LOT of faff (and I mean a LOT) later and we were rigging the top. I was very happy to get to go down the 64m long descent. The rope was heavy to start but soon I was bouncing down, and Vilhelms caught me at the bottom to stop me falling straight in the water (without a clue how deep down the shaft continued). Once we were down, I went off with Alice exploring a side coffin level, up to our wastes in water and with bent knees we followed it for a distance that must have been at least 500m, though I have no sense of scale in caves. It was shoulder high and pretty regular though at the end was very tight. My wetsuit proved a fabulous choice as I stayed nice and toasty. Learning that this had been hand dug in the 1700s or sometime was mad; crouched into that space for days on end with only a candle for light. We returned (harder work against the flow) then turned around and headed back in with the rest of the group. At the end of this long tunnel there is a 4 way junction in a shaft chamber, and we followed a larger, but very silty, passage on, until we reached another big hole. I was lucky to be a bit back, because Alice went right in, over her head! Wassil threw me over the gap, but the way on was blocked, so we plodded back through the silted tunnel. Heading out the cave, with lots of prusiking – which I have still to get the knack of – though Harry was amazing and let me try his pantin foot jammer. I headed up on my own to reach the next stage, but my light started to flicker; knowing full well I might have gone a wrong way I didn’t really want to keep going on with the risk of the light going out, so headed back to wait for Ala. We headed on up and finally I was on the last ascent; just beginning to understand how the foot jammer worked when I was surprised to see Campbell’s light over the exit: I hadn’t clocked that it was of course now dark outside. It was also a bit windy so dried quickly changing out by the car, then huddled with Alice for warmth before we drove off, panicking that the Call Out hadn’t been cancelled (all was fine in the end). When we reached home, we started cooking the baked potatoes, though I felt so tired it was hard to concentrate: my tiredness mostly the result of not eating anything substantial since breakfast and it being 11pm by the time we were ready to eat. The night saw even more fun: I went from exhausted to over excited in the course as we brought out the squeeze machine. At first it was all fairly sensible by caving standards, than people started not to move from the exit of the squeeze machine producing a growing pile up and making the challenge harder. The next level, someone came up with the idea of holding the ankles of the person heading through the squeeze machine, and so began the Squeezapede: the monster grew and grew, till it had snaked at least 3 times around the room! I was sometimes upside time, sometimes head down, sometimes lying on top of other parts of the squeezepede, sometimes completely crushed beneath it. Later on in the evening I was very proud to have won the squeeze machine for the night, at a setting of ‘base +11 (arbitrary SUS units)’; mostly as a result of Wassil’s encouragement to not give up despite feeling sure I was being crushed. I returned to my snug spot on the mattresses on the floor for the night (as opposed to a certain someone who decided sleeping on the floor under the bunk bed was the best option!). The next morning(/afternoon to be honest), following another lovely big breakfast we tidied up the hut and headed off in two groups: I went with Jono, Wassil, Alice and Vilhelms to Odin’s mine. Changing in the lovely (spring?) sun among the crowds out for a nice Sunday in the Peak District, we sorted all our stuff and headed in. This cave felt very different to any I have done before: evrything was coated in thick layers of mud, and we walked on questionable floors made of dirt packed into the virticle passage, and I admired the perfect cubic forms of the galena crystals growing on the sides of the mine, as well as some lovely quartz. We found tunnels with roofs lined of big regular slabs, and at our farthest point in the mine a cavern bordered by a whole laid stone wall and roof (of questionable structural integrity). Heading back out, fuelled by the many packets of Haribo my pocket could carry, we came out into a starry night. Then all that was left was to change on the roadside, and drive south. After I’d done in the tackle store, I cycled home slowly; with more bruises than I left but happier than ever. Thanks to Alice for great driving (and her car for not breaking down), thanks Jono, Harry, and Wassil for amazing leading in the caves, and thanks to all the rest of you for your fantastic company! -02-25 -- Lucy, Jan. 17, 2024. Category: Caving |
South Wales2021-12-03 After rushing down to the tackle store for 5pm, where the only other on time person was Marie, Alice, Oakem, and Natalie waited nearly half an hour for the rest of the group to show up, hoping one of them would have a set of tackle store keys after Alice’s failure to bring them along. Luckily, she had already done the £50 Aldi shop, so the crammed vet car arrived a good hour or more before the others, despite thick fog. When the other car finally arrived after a few too many rounds of Besh!, the caving games commenced. First came the squeeze machine. After some terrible performances, the final battle was between Natalie and a veteran of SWCC whose name I can’t remember. Eventually, Natalie took the win, despite not removing any of her clothing (unlike Alice) and has the grazes on her hips to show for it. Next, table traversing. After success by Wassil, Rudi, Oakem, Joel, and Natalie (almost all the others having gone to sleep by this point), we experimented on the theme and Wassil ended up spending fifteen minutes trying to squeeze though a bench. After a surprise bout of sock wrestling (winner: Oakem, loser: Wassil), some partially successful body traversing, and an attempt at breaking some broom handles, we finally decided to call it a night. In the morning, we realised Alice had bought enough food for a small army and could definitely have shopped for half the price. When Joel finally woke up to Wassil’s tender “good morning sunshine” and 22 eggs, 20 veggie sausages, a mountain of hash browns, a towering stack of toast, a panful of mushrooms, and some thrice-heated, week-old, mashed-up burgers (?) later, we were finally ready for some caving. Wassil took Joel, Rudi, and Campbell to Bridge and bottom OFD, while Alice, Oakem, Natalie, Marie, and Annabelle were led by a 17-year-old minor, James, through top OFD. While I have no idea how Wassil’s group got on apart from the wealth of photos from Rudi suggesting it was a walk in the park, James’ group marched through some of the most difficult caves in the UK!!! Highlights included the sandy crawl (more like the sandy drag), Gnome passage, Alice protesting that it was actually Oxford who broke the trident and not Cambridge, and an attempt to drink water dripping down from the roof as James hadn’t brought any with us. When the second group emerged and found that Wassil’s group were still lost in the cave slash in the middle of a photoshoot (luckily the whole of cave rescue was on standby in case Rudi’s phone broke), we decided to go for an impromptu walk. After a twenty-minute drive including one of the worst roads in Wales, and a half-hour walk in which we spotted the largest trout ever seen with a severe case of athlete’s foot, we arrived at Sgwd Gwladys waterfall. Oakem, Alice, and Marie decided to take a dip (poor effort from Natalie and Annabelle) and were nearly drowned under the waterfall. Upon returning to the hut, we made a start on dinner. It’s often been said that too many cooks spoil the broth. However, in this case, Alice’s frenzied food shop got it off to a bad start. While Natalie began with the monster crumbles, Oakem, Annabelle, and Marie made short work of the vegetables. It took three hours for Wassil’s group to emerge from their photoshoot, after a relocation to bottom OFD. After a “brilliant” fireworks display, which startled Oakem awake from his nap, and three kilos of pasta later, dinner was served. Despite the giant vat of pasta, Rudi decided he was too good for our food and ate his own leftover rice and steak (Wassil’s verdict: horrible). Though Alice had woefully undercatered on cheese (no thanks to Joel’s helping of three times as much cheddar as pasta), Wassil’s cow milk cheese saved the day. Pudding was crumble and chicken egg cow milk custard sauce, though several members partook in the table of birthday cake as well. After dinner, we sat around the bonfire, entertained by Max the collie, and tried our hands at fire poi. While Alice and Oakem were experts (do the C’s in CUCC stand for circus?), we were all terrified that Wassil would set himself on fire and be unable to take us caving the next day. Luckily, his “luscious locks” survived to see another cave. When we were fully inundated with smoke, we went to bed (Alice and Natalie opting to sleep in different bunks this time). Rudi, Joel, Campbell, and Alice had an early start the next morning as Wassil had left head negotiator Alice to enter into a treaty with Bristol and buy some batteries and baked beans. Natalie and Alice began cooking the breakfast feast once Rudi, Joel, and Campbell had made headway on the pasta and departed. After some serious faffing, the hash browns and sausages went in the bin (boo) and the baked beans went in Wassil’s tupperware. Once Wassil had purchased a Cwm Dwr map and everyone had got ready, the six of us set off into the cave. A long, wet slither through a category 2 confined space and two casualties later, Marie, Natalie, Wassil, and Oakem emerged into Cwm Dwr proper. After one long hour, a number of tight boulder chokes, and some unorthodox map cleaning (involving Wassil’s tongue), we finally found the right path. However, despite Wassil’s best efforts to convince us (and himself) otherwise, we had no clue where we were on the map. After several wrong turnings, including a 4m climb and some attempts by Natalie and Wassil to create a landslide, we eventually found the Smithy. Wassil tried his best to kill us all on a slippery traverse over a 10m drop before we had a chance bump into a group of seasoned professionals, who informed us we were actually in Piccadilly and sent us on our way to the confluence. Natalie’s incredible memory enabled a flawless retreat back through the boulder choke (despite Wassil’s desire to get lost) and we emerged half an hour before our callout. Oakem and Natalie polished off the last of the pasta while Wassil desperately tried (and failed) to get us to eat the baked beans from his tupperware. At last, we were fully packed and ready to set off. After abandoning Wassil in Rugby, the rest of us made it home unscathed and before midnight. Thanks Alice for sorting out the tackle store. -- Natalie, Jan. 17, 2024. Category: Caving |