www.youtube.com/watch?v=1QW85kfakJc
To lay a little background to my opinion that the above is absolute *ollox, i shall explain the research Mattew and I undertook yesterday.
He ( who shall be known as Matthew / Matt' or similar, during the following report.) and I (similar parameters of referance.)took it upon ourselves to pursue an avenue of exploration for myself (I ) and re-visited gem from his, (matt' ) caving past.
visited t' cat sanctuary to pay our dues, parked along the way to change and ford the snow / sheep-shit fields to the new Nettle lid.
we had, by now, some serious doubts regarding an African water-hole being any more refreshing than this!
I (myself) rigged with the fervour of a hypothermic hippo.
soon into the relative warmth of the 'narrower than hippos'.
Matt' (you get it by now!just the two of us.)was also glad to get further underground than a hippo might due to the snugg-ness of the entrance.
In the words of Francis and Rossi Down down,deeper on down.
Bottle pot, a pleasure.
From the bottom of Bottle I have always wiggled a bit an gone ( in the words of......)
down. However to test the hippopotomi therum regarding mud, we set off along 'the flats'.
Why? was already a conundrum un-answerable.but we did on our knees , no flat out. bugger!
Quite how fine a lubricant very wet clay is, shall only be quantified by a Physicist of some regard, and as Jamie (eldest son) is away at present doing more important things, i suggest you repeat our experiment.
Take it from an owd git ( I ) it was 'kin slippy, onwards SHLUPPP!! SHLUPPP ! etc'by way of a great lead-SCHLUPP from Matthew we ( in a gloriously cool-blooded fashion.) reached the pitches rope bags in-tow for apparantly no good reason at all. down pitch rigged. on inspection the ropes had no damage, ( that showed through the re-distributed sediments, ( mud! )
not to disturb the status quo' we went down down, and further along the way .
OOOH lovely formations to be admired from a recumbant filthy disgustingly wet and sedimentary position whenever the will to SCHLUPP deserted me.
My very marrow, let alone blood, was 'chilli-man. Hippo's could take a leaf out of my book eh?
Up pithces in view, yep! bag hauling was in vain. mud supported by a rope in-situ'.
Onwards in an intrepid muddy less-than feverous manner, was the order. next up pitch also rigged, brill'.
bags left for our return and on..
Very flat on oh? did i mention muddy?
and on.
Pitch head in view.hangers here. not like the eco's previously. no mud clad rope tho'
A welded crab and a bit of wire.
A hero from within our ranks set off back, like a whippet! to fetch a rope from the last up-pitch.
I wondered if it was possible to have a 'cave tiddle' without muddying my moderately clean knob.
i found the zip on t' warmbac was being a little playfull and coy. I let it all have another trip round me kidneys or wotevva it does in such prediciments.
The rope (and Matthew.)arrived. Rah!!
quick plop down t' ole. Umm!!
Matt? do you want to try it? ( said a portly owd git,) :-[
Vooooom! like a (particularly muddy ) rat down a drainpipie.
"I've lost me spanner, an can't undo me maillon." was music to my well prepared ears. "here i ( myself ) have one here!"
He (Matt' )divested himself of owt petzl an shot through letterbox pooh poo-ing my regard for safety and a still poorly 5th lumber disc.
Without our intrepid 'third man' to pull a stuck twat from an over-optomistic thrutch, i couldn't keep from the immortal line in guides A stretcher past this point would be difficult! and that was back at the narrows!!!!
Matt' did concede that it did indeed become tighter a little further in.
We ( I ) decided a withdrawall was the most expedient course.
Piccie's in good supply if out of focus, my eyes and matt's without his clay clad glasses wouldn't tell.
We re-traced our route to the pitches, the 'now' down pitches were fast and fun,no discernable heat build-up in my stop!
there seemed as much mud on yhe return as on the outward leg.
AS we were wearing so much of the filthy/ glorious stuff, where did the rest come from?
Matt sett off up Bottle, having singely failed to slither down 'the canyon! :bow:
I muddy-ed me penis, the best pee ever :yucky:
then hauled me old arse and a rope bag, de-rigging as i went.
at about the narrows it was blatently obvious the fuckin Hippo's had it all wrong.
The chill was well evident even here, Matt' was making hypothermic gurggling/ chattering noises above me. just inside the lid. It Does allow air flow, it seems! No bad air!( bar the vegetarian trumpeting earlier.)
Top! Hurrah!!!
Matt' fairly run hither and yon, to pull rope and wrap, I grabbed two bags and scuttled to H. Q.
Couldnt believe how much cooler my blood was now!!!
Gloves frozen!
Warmbac Frozen!
bag-straps frozen!
releasing the van keys was an epic on its ow!n.
changing don't go there.
Hardly the bloody Serengeti !
I rest My case.
Piccies to follow.
Owd Git.
To lay a little background to my opinion that the above is absolute *ollox, i shall explain the research Mattew and I undertook yesterday.
He ( who shall be known as Matthew / Matt' or similar, during the following report.) and I (similar parameters of referance.)took it upon ourselves to pursue an avenue of exploration for myself (I ) and re-visited gem from his, (matt' ) caving past.
visited t' cat sanctuary to pay our dues, parked along the way to change and ford the snow / sheep-shit fields to the new Nettle lid.
we had, by now, some serious doubts regarding an African water-hole being any more refreshing than this!
I (myself) rigged with the fervour of a hypothermic hippo.
soon into the relative warmth of the 'narrower than hippos'.
Matt' (you get it by now!just the two of us.)was also glad to get further underground than a hippo might due to the snugg-ness of the entrance.
In the words of Francis and Rossi Down down,deeper on down.
Bottle pot, a pleasure.
From the bottom of Bottle I have always wiggled a bit an gone ( in the words of......)
down. However to test the hippopotomi therum regarding mud, we set off along 'the flats'.
Why? was already a conundrum un-answerable.but we did on our knees , no flat out. bugger!
Quite how fine a lubricant very wet clay is, shall only be quantified by a Physicist of some regard, and as Jamie (eldest son) is away at present doing more important things, i suggest you repeat our experiment.
Take it from an owd git ( I ) it was 'kin slippy, onwards SHLUPPP!! SHLUPPP ! etc'by way of a great lead-SCHLUPP from Matthew we ( in a gloriously cool-blooded fashion.) reached the pitches rope bags in-tow for apparantly no good reason at all. down pitch rigged. on inspection the ropes had no damage, ( that showed through the re-distributed sediments, ( mud! )
not to disturb the status quo' we went down down, and further along the way .
OOOH lovely formations to be admired from a recumbant filthy disgustingly wet and sedimentary position whenever the will to SCHLUPP deserted me.
My very marrow, let alone blood, was 'chilli-man. Hippo's could take a leaf out of my book eh?
Up pithces in view, yep! bag hauling was in vain. mud supported by a rope in-situ'.
Onwards in an intrepid muddy less-than feverous manner, was the order. next up pitch also rigged, brill'.
bags left for our return and on..
Very flat on oh? did i mention muddy?
and on.
Pitch head in view.hangers here. not like the eco's previously. no mud clad rope tho'
A welded crab and a bit of wire.
A hero from within our ranks set off back, like a whippet! to fetch a rope from the last up-pitch.
I wondered if it was possible to have a 'cave tiddle' without muddying my moderately clean knob.
i found the zip on t' warmbac was being a little playfull and coy. I let it all have another trip round me kidneys or wotevva it does in such prediciments.
The rope (and Matthew.)arrived. Rah!!
quick plop down t' ole. Umm!!
Matt? do you want to try it? ( said a portly owd git,) :-[
Vooooom! like a (particularly muddy ) rat down a drainpipie.
"I've lost me spanner, an can't undo me maillon." was music to my well prepared ears. "here i ( myself ) have one here!"
He (Matt' )divested himself of owt petzl an shot through letterbox pooh poo-ing my regard for safety and a still poorly 5th lumber disc.
Without our intrepid 'third man' to pull a stuck twat from an over-optomistic thrutch, i couldn't keep from the immortal line in guides A stretcher past this point would be difficult! and that was back at the narrows!!!!
Matt' did concede that it did indeed become tighter a little further in.
We ( I ) decided a withdrawall was the most expedient course.
Piccie's in good supply if out of focus, my eyes and matt's without his clay clad glasses wouldn't tell.
We re-traced our route to the pitches, the 'now' down pitches were fast and fun,no discernable heat build-up in my stop!
there seemed as much mud on yhe return as on the outward leg.
AS we were wearing so much of the filthy/ glorious stuff, where did the rest come from?
Matt sett off up Bottle, having singely failed to slither down 'the canyon! :bow:
I muddy-ed me penis, the best pee ever
:yucky:then hauled me old arse and a rope bag, de-rigging as i went.
at about the narrows it was blatently obvious the fuckin Hippo's had it all wrong.
The chill was well evident even here, Matt' was making hypothermic gurggling/ chattering noises above me. just inside the lid. It Does allow air flow, it seems! No bad air!( bar the vegetarian trumpeting earlier.)
Top! Hurrah!!!
Matt' fairly run hither and yon, to pull rope and wrap, I grabbed two bags and scuttled to H. Q.
Couldnt believe how much cooler my blood was now!!!
Gloves frozen!
Warmbac Frozen!
bag-straps frozen!
releasing the van keys was an epic on its ow!n.
changing
don't go there. Hardly the bloody Serengeti !
I rest My case.
Piccies to follow.
Owd Git.
