PeteHall
Moderator
?Stoke Lane Slocker?; I first read these words as an impressionable and enthusiastic student caver, excitedly reading Jim Eyre's brilliant autobiography (if you've not read it, do). I'd made it through the first book without putting it down more than once and it wasn't long before I picked up the second. Jim soon introduces us to Mendip, scrumpy cider and ?Stoke Lane Slocker?. There are many more exciting stories in the book, but I have to say it was this tale of feeling like a spider, flushed down the sink that stuck most in my mind.
Several years later, I found myself living near Bristol and working just off the edge of Mendip. I dutifully bought myself a copy of the long outdated 4th edition Mendip Underground and those words appeared again. The guide book is less descriptive than Jim, but does carry warnings about flooding, over-enthusiastic free diving and the threat of Wiles Disease. My imagination was sparked once again and I determined to make a trip.
After my first trip, I reported Stoke Lane to be my favourite sporting cave, quite a claim for a Mendip cave after I'd spent six years caving in the Dales! I later discovered that my grandmother had been regularly digging there some 60 years previously when she was only 16, so it is perhaps by some twist of fate that I am now so drawn to the place...
I have visited many times since, explored the upper chambers and oxbows, followed the streamway and pushed to the bitter end of the Bailey-Ward Series but this trip was to be a little different for me; today we were to dive Sump 2 and venture into a much more exclusive area of the cave.
I had intended to get out of work early, I even managed to get through the door an hour ahead of usual, but a site visit in Bedminster sealed my fate stuck Bristol rush-hour traffic. Eventually I made it to Max's house, loaded up and we set off for Mendip.
Wetsuits, wellies and knee-pads plus a tackle bag for regs and a 3l cylinder; we were changed and at the entrance in no time, but where was the water? For November, we could not believe how dry it was. It had rained the night before but there was no sign of it on the ground. A little water was flowing in at the first T-junction which we followed downsteam to Sump 1 which Max dived first. I shoved the tackle bags beneath the underwater arch and a brief immersion brought me to the much larger passages of Stoke 2.
Ignoring the large chambers above, we made our way directly (well, as directly as possible) down the streamway and through the chokes to emerge high on a boulder pile above the foamy pool that signals the start of Sump 2. We kitted up on a convenient flat rock before clambering down into the water. Max set off first, he would signal to me via the dive line once he was through, if it was too silted he would return. A few bubbles kept me company as he disappeared below the surface, but though bright, his lights were immediately swallowed by the muddy water.
My heart was racing, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Water has always been my one big fear when caving, yet here I am embracing it, enjoying it. I felt Max signal back down the dive line, he was through. My heart steadied, I gave my gear a final check and sunk down into the water.
I might as well have left my lights off for what good they were underwater, though the orange glow is strangely comforting. Feeling my way down under a ledge and on beneath various roof pendants, my hands were my eyes, guiding me effortlessly through the submerged passage. The passage rises, a silt bank restricts my progress, the orange glow fades away to total darkness. Have my lights failed? Not both at once, this must be what they call ?zero-viz?. As I emerged from the silt, so too did the orange glow and soon I felt my hand breaking surface. Stoke 3, here we come!
I'd always thought that Stoke 2 seemed pretty much pristine, the threatening Sump 1 is enough of an obstacle to deter casual visitors, but Stoke 3 is in another league. Save for the remnants of digging and diving kit and the odd pair of ladies pants lying about, you really could be in virgin cave. The flood-prone streamway removes any trace of visitors in the lower sections while up above there has been little enough traffic that evidence is scarce.
Sump 3 is bypassed by some high level oxbows with a choice of routes back to the water. The roof drops from a high meandering passage to a low wide crawl, ears in and out of the water until eventually emerging under a large square shaft. Elsewhere in the country you would assume this was a main hauling shaft, serving the mine workings below, but here you only have nature to thank for this impressive feature. I toyed with the idea of clmbing it, but sense prevailed and we continued on our way to Sump 4 where a tempting airspace lead off from the sump pool but that's one for another day...
The highlight of the return trip was a dry oxbow that doesn't so much as get a mention in the guidebook. A classic phreattic tube that weaves it's way through the rock, up and down and back up again before it corkscrews down back under itself to emerge back at the streamway in a large chamber.
Sump 2 presented no real difficulties on the return and likewise Sump 1, though I did manage to have a good faff as I tried to untangle the two tackle bags in the constricted upstream sump pool before Max could follow. A speedy exit through the entrance crawls even saw us out in time for a beer and some prork scratchings in the village before heading home.
All in all, I can't think of many better ways to spend a Wednesday evening!
Several years later, I found myself living near Bristol and working just off the edge of Mendip. I dutifully bought myself a copy of the long outdated 4th edition Mendip Underground and those words appeared again. The guide book is less descriptive than Jim, but does carry warnings about flooding, over-enthusiastic free diving and the threat of Wiles Disease. My imagination was sparked once again and I determined to make a trip.
After my first trip, I reported Stoke Lane to be my favourite sporting cave, quite a claim for a Mendip cave after I'd spent six years caving in the Dales! I later discovered that my grandmother had been regularly digging there some 60 years previously when she was only 16, so it is perhaps by some twist of fate that I am now so drawn to the place...
I have visited many times since, explored the upper chambers and oxbows, followed the streamway and pushed to the bitter end of the Bailey-Ward Series but this trip was to be a little different for me; today we were to dive Sump 2 and venture into a much more exclusive area of the cave.
I had intended to get out of work early, I even managed to get through the door an hour ahead of usual, but a site visit in Bedminster sealed my fate stuck Bristol rush-hour traffic. Eventually I made it to Max's house, loaded up and we set off for Mendip.
Wetsuits, wellies and knee-pads plus a tackle bag for regs and a 3l cylinder; we were changed and at the entrance in no time, but where was the water? For November, we could not believe how dry it was. It had rained the night before but there was no sign of it on the ground. A little water was flowing in at the first T-junction which we followed downsteam to Sump 1 which Max dived first. I shoved the tackle bags beneath the underwater arch and a brief immersion brought me to the much larger passages of Stoke 2.
Ignoring the large chambers above, we made our way directly (well, as directly as possible) down the streamway and through the chokes to emerge high on a boulder pile above the foamy pool that signals the start of Sump 2. We kitted up on a convenient flat rock before clambering down into the water. Max set off first, he would signal to me via the dive line once he was through, if it was too silted he would return. A few bubbles kept me company as he disappeared below the surface, but though bright, his lights were immediately swallowed by the muddy water.
My heart was racing, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Water has always been my one big fear when caving, yet here I am embracing it, enjoying it. I felt Max signal back down the dive line, he was through. My heart steadied, I gave my gear a final check and sunk down into the water.
I might as well have left my lights off for what good they were underwater, though the orange glow is strangely comforting. Feeling my way down under a ledge and on beneath various roof pendants, my hands were my eyes, guiding me effortlessly through the submerged passage. The passage rises, a silt bank restricts my progress, the orange glow fades away to total darkness. Have my lights failed? Not both at once, this must be what they call ?zero-viz?. As I emerged from the silt, so too did the orange glow and soon I felt my hand breaking surface. Stoke 3, here we come!
I'd always thought that Stoke 2 seemed pretty much pristine, the threatening Sump 1 is enough of an obstacle to deter casual visitors, but Stoke 3 is in another league. Save for the remnants of digging and diving kit and the odd pair of ladies pants lying about, you really could be in virgin cave. The flood-prone streamway removes any trace of visitors in the lower sections while up above there has been little enough traffic that evidence is scarce.
Sump 3 is bypassed by some high level oxbows with a choice of routes back to the water. The roof drops from a high meandering passage to a low wide crawl, ears in and out of the water until eventually emerging under a large square shaft. Elsewhere in the country you would assume this was a main hauling shaft, serving the mine workings below, but here you only have nature to thank for this impressive feature. I toyed with the idea of clmbing it, but sense prevailed and we continued on our way to Sump 4 where a tempting airspace lead off from the sump pool but that's one for another day...
The highlight of the return trip was a dry oxbow that doesn't so much as get a mention in the guidebook. A classic phreattic tube that weaves it's way through the rock, up and down and back up again before it corkscrews down back under itself to emerge back at the streamway in a large chamber.
Sump 2 presented no real difficulties on the return and likewise Sump 1, though I did manage to have a good faff as I tried to untangle the two tackle bags in the constricted upstream sump pool before Max could follow. A speedy exit through the entrance crawls even saw us out in time for a beer and some prork scratchings in the village before heading home.
All in all, I can't think of many better ways to spend a Wednesday evening!
).
