chunky
Well-known member
I'm something of a late starter in the caving world and didn't begin caving until 2010.
My first caving trip was Browgill to Calf Holes. We rigged a ladder at the Calf Holes end to exit and proceeded to try and figure out where the entrance to Browgill Was.
I can still remember the thrill and excitement I felt as we splashed through the water to the lower entrance.
The carving of the rock, it's colour and texture were mesmerising. I remember feeling a little nervous going through the first crawling section as I imagined just how much rock there was above me and wondered what was supporting the void I crawled through.
I missed the way on of course and stood in awe at an underground waterfall before me. I had a big cheshire cat grin on my face, I couldn't believe that 'normal' people could do things like this, it was another world to me.
After searching around for a good 15 minutes I begun to despair of finding the way on and begun to backtrack. The rope hanging down the rift hadn't been visible from the one direction and it wasn't until I looked from the other I had spotted it. This would be a lesson that I would, in the future, often need to apply to the 3D nature of caves to find the way on.
It seems silly now to me but when we reached the deeply scolloped bedding plane I felt a little claustrophobic and worried that I may get lost. Although Jess had been before she couldn't remember the way on and we spent quite some time in the bedding plane, a lot of it up to my ears in water, searching for the connection.
We eventually found the 'Sausage Press' and at that time I was truly Chunky at 18 stone and huffed and puffed my way through it. I was so chuffed and proud of myself once I managed to get through it I completely forgot my helmet which I had removed to feel less claustrophobic!
I marvelled at just how different the Calf Holes passage was as we stomped down toward the pitch and gawked at the flowstone on the wall....my first formations.
We waded through the water to the crawl past the ladder and continued on to the final chamber before heading back to do the pitch and out.
It feels like a life time ago since that first trip and although I have been back to the cave many times, Last weekend was the first time I had returned since taking up photography. Below are a few shots I took which embody everything that turned this first foray underground in to a passion which has consumed most of my fee time ever since.
My first caving trip was Browgill to Calf Holes. We rigged a ladder at the Calf Holes end to exit and proceeded to try and figure out where the entrance to Browgill Was.
I can still remember the thrill and excitement I felt as we splashed through the water to the lower entrance.
The carving of the rock, it's colour and texture were mesmerising. I remember feeling a little nervous going through the first crawling section as I imagined just how much rock there was above me and wondered what was supporting the void I crawled through.
I missed the way on of course and stood in awe at an underground waterfall before me. I had a big cheshire cat grin on my face, I couldn't believe that 'normal' people could do things like this, it was another world to me.
After searching around for a good 15 minutes I begun to despair of finding the way on and begun to backtrack. The rope hanging down the rift hadn't been visible from the one direction and it wasn't until I looked from the other I had spotted it. This would be a lesson that I would, in the future, often need to apply to the 3D nature of caves to find the way on.
It seems silly now to me but when we reached the deeply scolloped bedding plane I felt a little claustrophobic and worried that I may get lost. Although Jess had been before she couldn't remember the way on and we spent quite some time in the bedding plane, a lot of it up to my ears in water, searching for the connection.
We eventually found the 'Sausage Press' and at that time I was truly Chunky at 18 stone and huffed and puffed my way through it. I was so chuffed and proud of myself once I managed to get through it I completely forgot my helmet which I had removed to feel less claustrophobic!
I marvelled at just how different the Calf Holes passage was as we stomped down toward the pitch and gawked at the flowstone on the wall....my first formations.
We waded through the water to the crawl past the ladder and continued on to the final chamber before heading back to do the pitch and out.
It feels like a life time ago since that first trip and although I have been back to the cave many times, Last weekend was the first time I had returned since taking up photography. Below are a few shots I took which embody everything that turned this first foray underground in to a passion which has consumed most of my fee time ever since.
Great colours and sense of depth, despite the challenges of getting those things in a caving photo.