Sunday 12th Marchio, 06.
Gary A, Judi D, Andy H, Chris B: 2hrs, 20m
We met on the blizzard-like deserted plateau of high Mendip in a white-out with a minus thirty wind chill and adorned ourselves with a variety of caving regalia in the sublime hostility which met us - we laughed at the weather's puny attempts to deter us from our mission... namely to take Gary into the soaring depths and show him the ropes, so to speak (am I mixing my metaphors?) `cos he ain't never not done the twenty before, like.
A quick dash to the cave saw us slide into the dark moistness and make steady progress after having elected Gary as the leader, poking him vigorously with a pointy stick from time to time while simultaneously shouting "giddy-up"; occasionally he would yelp.
Within moments, he had capably led us to the twenty wherupon in a flash of expertness I managed to rig a passable ladder and line while the astonished onlookers gawped at my ropey antics. Each caver descended without ado and I leapt into the abyss, bouncing and prancing off the walls like Tigger until coming to a gentle repose onto a small poised rock where I found myself stood beside t'others. The psychotropic effects of the anhalonium lewinii were just beginning to kick in with a vengeance so I considered saving my special bundle of waterproofed amanita muscaria for later on.... the others would never notice, I wrongly supposed.
Gary ably followed the only route downstream until we took the high road to Barney-the-Barnes'-Fruitloop-route and stared at the walls giggling like children who have invented a new swear word. Onwards we trudged taking it in turns to sharpen the pointy stick with scalpel-like fossils jutting from the cavern's walls, shortly after which the synchronised screaming began. Gouging some mud from a crevice in the wall, I rolled it into a couple of small marble-sized balls and gently squeezed them into both ears, to act as a baffle from the agonised noises emanating from our leader as each thrust of the sharp branch pierced his lower thigh. Judi wouldn't stop violently throwing stones at everyone while Andy was mostly silent, this continued throughout the trip apart from when he intermittently shouted "Yeast, yeast, yeast!" at imaginary sheep he kept claiming were following us.
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At this point strange things started to occur. A small horde of stunted green twig-wielding leeches were gaining on us as we stumbled and cursed our way between the ever-narrowing walls of a heinously steep rift, beckoning us towards a dark hell of our most fevered imaginings. An increasing reverberation of low frequency booming clamoured for our attention as we zig-zagged ever more frantically to escape the horrifying leech mob.
Gasping, we turned a corner and a bright light instantly blinded us, forcing us to stand blinking, blinking, blinking; tears welled in our eyes and all fell silent. The horror of our predicament was immediately overturned into a graceful solace and our heart beats became as gentle ripples on a becalmed pond during a cool spring morning. Seizing the opportunity while everyone was temporarily unable to focus and see what was happening, I quickly guzzled a handful of my most potent mushrooms, quietly swallowing them so that no-one else tried to grab a greedy fistful. After all, I had made the effort to find them, dry them out and bring them along, so sod the lot of them, I thought.
From this point onwards, things took a turn for the worse and, from my viewpoint at least, the trip began to slide into a chaotic kaleidoscope of nightmarish visions interspersed with a seemingly random array of sounds, emotions and smells. :shock: I vaguely recall being slapped over and over again around my face and neck while people were shouting "Shut the f*** up, you tosser"; apparently I had been incessantly singing this tune which I had remembered from my youth....
http://tv.cream.org/specialassignments/themes/kiaora.mp3
I think someone else should take over the trip description on my behalf....