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I seem to have been neglecting my caving duties of late, a combination of work and life have conspired against me and to the point that not only had all my bruises faded and vanished but also my limbs no longer hurt when I tried to move them.
This was unacceptable and I had become so accustomed to friends and colleagues making outraged enquiries such as "how on Earth did you do that?" and "does it hurt when you move it?" that I was starting to feel like a non caver.
Someone mentioned once that a decent caver shouldn't get bruises, but on the contrary I hope to get battered and bruised well into my old age with various twinges and aches serving as a representation of many a fine trip, like some kind of physical storyboard that hurts like hell on cold days, and while this particular weekend saw me leaving with minimal injury, this was more of a testimony to me finally buying some decent kit rather than any kind of caving competence.
After a hard week of dodging lawyers and lot of limescale it was a great relief to set off with Les, Wendy and Chris towards the Shire of Derby for a weekend of caving and beer consumption and not necessarily in that order.
Saturday
Where; P8
Attending; Sarah, Tom, Les, Peter Jenkins (complete with hangover) and Hatstand.
P8 had first come to my attention the previous year when I drove past a vast array of cavers that had just completed a rescue, the second time it came to my attention was when someone mentioned that the entrance can sometimes be a whirlpool. Taking these two things into account I was dead keen to have a go, and although there was no rescue (this was undoubtedly a good thing) , and in fact the entrance was only mildly damp (unfortunate!), it turned out to be a fantastic trip with a little bit of sport and a great deal of fun.
One of the biggest downers of the day was having to bite the bullet and buy myself a real oversuit, I have worked hard in not taking myself seriously and have been the laughing stock of a good many trips by turning up in all manner of inadequate boiler suits. Thus I was rather sour faced when I entered the cave in a shiny new Warmbac, while everyone laughed and made witty comments about how I had finally succumbed and actually looked like a proper caver. This wasn't so, because as they would soon come to realise, I had cunningly bought a new pair of gloves and then immediately lost them, thus I ended up happily spending the weekend wearing only one borrowed glove and reaffirmed my long coveted position as the most disorganised and incompetent member of the party... that'll teach them...the bastards.
After entering and following our way along a windy passageway we set up and descended the first ladder, with some people opting to get off halfway down and traverse across, while others went all the way down and for a face full of waterfall. At one point I must have downed at least a pint of it, which was only made more unpleasant when upon exiting the cave I spotted the remnants of a dead sheep further upstream.
We traversed upwards and over a bold step before turning around and making our way over a big hole to await the rigging of the second ladder, I opted for a lifeline on this pitch which was just as well because I swung out to the ladder a little too fast and nearly fell off.... whether this was down to some false notion of immortality on my part due to having a lifeline, or was destined to happen either way, I'll never know.
While the others climbed down the second pitch I headed onwards with Tom and Sarah stopping only briefly to make fun of Les as he went to absurd and seemingly uncomfortable lengths to avoid a small bit of crawling through a watery trench. We soon came to some flat out thrutching on a load of gravel and rocks which caused me to have to push myself up and try and levitate over so as not to cause them to pile up and hinder progress, upon returning sometime later I noticed that some extensive gardening had taken place by persons unknown.
After we had regrouped at a small pool, Les went on ahead and vanished up a small tube that we had originally thought to go nowhere, the rest of us let him get on with it until after a considerable amount of silence (not something I am used to when caving with Les) Tom and Sarah set off down the tube to look for him, after some time Les came back and revealed that there was a great deal more cave further on, and so after some thrutching we emerged into a very nice canyon that stretched up into the darkness and was filled with water.
We traversed over it and came to a huge bit of flowstone with a great cascade of water rippling down it, which was quite impressive. when we headed back Tom pointed us towards another passage heading upwards which I led the way along for quite some distance until I spotted an electron ladder hanging down.
It took a few moments to realise that it was in fact our ladder and we had stumbled our way through a fantastic little round trip, completely by accident.
On the way out Les rescued a toad that had probably spent weeks building a home down there, only to be seized and incarcerated within a glove before being taken outside and left to fend for itself against errant sheep and rampaging tractors, however it's the thought that counts!
Fantastic trip, thanks to all involved!
Sunday
Peak cavern
Attending; Peter Jenkins, Les, Hatstand
There was a Titan trip running today and I had spent a long week deliberating whether I should do it or not, with a small window of time in which to descend and having only done two proper SRT trips I knew that an "attempt" on Titan was unacceptable and grudgingly decided against giving it a go. Heights on rope doesn't worry me and I can pass a freehanging rebelay no problem but everything was too new and unexpected for me to risk having 'new' experiences on a trip with limited time and a harsher margin for error.
My bitter (even now it slightly rankles) disappointment soon faded when I realised just how good a trip could be had in the easier less committing parts of Peak and it made for an absolutely fantastic trip.
Right from the very start of the trip my one glove caused all manner of commotion as people jostled to get a good look at it and words of admiration were spoken, Peter couldn't stop talking about it and practically everyone we passed within the cave muttered words of awe and respect.
Once we were beyond the showcave and through a muddy duck we walked down some very fine streamway that led us to Surprise view inlet and beyond, soon we were into the main streamway and made our way down some big stomping passageway to a sump that came out in the showcave. Heading back we walked for quite some distance meeting various folk along the way until we ended up at Far sump. A quick assessment by Peter revealed that Far sump was in fact only a few metres in length and very achievable... Peter was clearly lieing and this was confirmed quite quickly when another group appeared and explained it was more like a few hundred metres and almost certainly fatal. Which was a shame because I was all psyched up and ready for a Darwin award.
Clearly sensing my disappointment a kind bearded caver that we bumped into gave me directions to a more manageable sump a little further back and when I was out of earshot gave the rest of the party directions to a far more comfortable and rather dry bypass to the aforementioned sump. This resulted in my cold wet self emerging from the other end of the sump feeling like I had achieved something only to find my caving party emerging from a crawl ahead of me in hyena mode, those bloody dry bastards!
Anyhow the guy who directed me into the sump and instigated the aforementioned trick probably never banked on meeting me only a few short hours later in Hitch and Hike, and no more than two feet away from the ice axes too!
Beyond the sump we met up with a group of folk who were diving some digging equipment through Ink sump and we stopped to talk for a while, I took the time to consider just what a good trip it was. We had been bumping into groups of people all morning and afternoon and it made Peak feel like a very warm and active place. Full of pockets of life and a great deal of club vs club North/South banter.
On the way back some of the dive team followed and I opted for the sump once again, followed by Rob who clearly wasn't afraid of a little water either, top man!
On the way out Peter did a terrible job of cleaning his oversuit and brought shame to the entire team, a shame that could only have been surpassed by Les once in the showcave when upon seeing an approaching group of over thirty tourists coming towards him, promptly stumbled down a step and almost fell flat on his face immediately bringing the entire pursuit of caving into disrepute. Luckily the tour guide saved the day by claiming we weren't actually cavers and were in fact 'monsters' which judging by the state of Peter's oversuit wasn't too far from the truth.
A few of the passing tourists enquired if we were on "the calender" which we explained we weren't. They were visibly disappointed and a great many of them complimented me on my one glove.
All in all it was an absolutely fantastic trip and while it wasn't Titan, I feel that 6 months into being a caver and at the tender age of 27, I am sure that there will be other chances and this year alone bigger things are already beckoning.
It was a fantastic weekend and so a big thanks go to Les and Wendy for organising it and to everyone who came along for making it such a great trip.
Conclusion... I'm not done with Derbyshire by a long shot, fantastic caving.
This was unacceptable and I had become so accustomed to friends and colleagues making outraged enquiries such as "how on Earth did you do that?" and "does it hurt when you move it?" that I was starting to feel like a non caver.
Someone mentioned once that a decent caver shouldn't get bruises, but on the contrary I hope to get battered and bruised well into my old age with various twinges and aches serving as a representation of many a fine trip, like some kind of physical storyboard that hurts like hell on cold days, and while this particular weekend saw me leaving with minimal injury, this was more of a testimony to me finally buying some decent kit rather than any kind of caving competence.
After a hard week of dodging lawyers and lot of limescale it was a great relief to set off with Les, Wendy and Chris towards the Shire of Derby for a weekend of caving and beer consumption and not necessarily in that order.
Saturday
Where; P8
Attending; Sarah, Tom, Les, Peter Jenkins (complete with hangover) and Hatstand.
P8 had first come to my attention the previous year when I drove past a vast array of cavers that had just completed a rescue, the second time it came to my attention was when someone mentioned that the entrance can sometimes be a whirlpool. Taking these two things into account I was dead keen to have a go, and although there was no rescue (this was undoubtedly a good thing) , and in fact the entrance was only mildly damp (unfortunate!), it turned out to be a fantastic trip with a little bit of sport and a great deal of fun.
One of the biggest downers of the day was having to bite the bullet and buy myself a real oversuit, I have worked hard in not taking myself seriously and have been the laughing stock of a good many trips by turning up in all manner of inadequate boiler suits. Thus I was rather sour faced when I entered the cave in a shiny new Warmbac, while everyone laughed and made witty comments about how I had finally succumbed and actually looked like a proper caver. This wasn't so, because as they would soon come to realise, I had cunningly bought a new pair of gloves and then immediately lost them, thus I ended up happily spending the weekend wearing only one borrowed glove and reaffirmed my long coveted position as the most disorganised and incompetent member of the party... that'll teach them...the bastards.
After entering and following our way along a windy passageway we set up and descended the first ladder, with some people opting to get off halfway down and traverse across, while others went all the way down and for a face full of waterfall. At one point I must have downed at least a pint of it, which was only made more unpleasant when upon exiting the cave I spotted the remnants of a dead sheep further upstream.
We traversed upwards and over a bold step before turning around and making our way over a big hole to await the rigging of the second ladder, I opted for a lifeline on this pitch which was just as well because I swung out to the ladder a little too fast and nearly fell off.... whether this was down to some false notion of immortality on my part due to having a lifeline, or was destined to happen either way, I'll never know.
While the others climbed down the second pitch I headed onwards with Tom and Sarah stopping only briefly to make fun of Les as he went to absurd and seemingly uncomfortable lengths to avoid a small bit of crawling through a watery trench. We soon came to some flat out thrutching on a load of gravel and rocks which caused me to have to push myself up and try and levitate over so as not to cause them to pile up and hinder progress, upon returning sometime later I noticed that some extensive gardening had taken place by persons unknown.
After we had regrouped at a small pool, Les went on ahead and vanished up a small tube that we had originally thought to go nowhere, the rest of us let him get on with it until after a considerable amount of silence (not something I am used to when caving with Les) Tom and Sarah set off down the tube to look for him, after some time Les came back and revealed that there was a great deal more cave further on, and so after some thrutching we emerged into a very nice canyon that stretched up into the darkness and was filled with water.
We traversed over it and came to a huge bit of flowstone with a great cascade of water rippling down it, which was quite impressive. when we headed back Tom pointed us towards another passage heading upwards which I led the way along for quite some distance until I spotted an electron ladder hanging down.
It took a few moments to realise that it was in fact our ladder and we had stumbled our way through a fantastic little round trip, completely by accident.
On the way out Les rescued a toad that had probably spent weeks building a home down there, only to be seized and incarcerated within a glove before being taken outside and left to fend for itself against errant sheep and rampaging tractors, however it's the thought that counts!
Fantastic trip, thanks to all involved!
Sunday
Peak cavern
Attending; Peter Jenkins, Les, Hatstand
There was a Titan trip running today and I had spent a long week deliberating whether I should do it or not, with a small window of time in which to descend and having only done two proper SRT trips I knew that an "attempt" on Titan was unacceptable and grudgingly decided against giving it a go. Heights on rope doesn't worry me and I can pass a freehanging rebelay no problem but everything was too new and unexpected for me to risk having 'new' experiences on a trip with limited time and a harsher margin for error.
My bitter (even now it slightly rankles) disappointment soon faded when I realised just how good a trip could be had in the easier less committing parts of Peak and it made for an absolutely fantastic trip.
Right from the very start of the trip my one glove caused all manner of commotion as people jostled to get a good look at it and words of admiration were spoken, Peter couldn't stop talking about it and practically everyone we passed within the cave muttered words of awe and respect.
Once we were beyond the showcave and through a muddy duck we walked down some very fine streamway that led us to Surprise view inlet and beyond, soon we were into the main streamway and made our way down some big stomping passageway to a sump that came out in the showcave. Heading back we walked for quite some distance meeting various folk along the way until we ended up at Far sump. A quick assessment by Peter revealed that Far sump was in fact only a few metres in length and very achievable... Peter was clearly lieing and this was confirmed quite quickly when another group appeared and explained it was more like a few hundred metres and almost certainly fatal. Which was a shame because I was all psyched up and ready for a Darwin award.
Clearly sensing my disappointment a kind bearded caver that we bumped into gave me directions to a more manageable sump a little further back and when I was out of earshot gave the rest of the party directions to a far more comfortable and rather dry bypass to the aforementioned sump. This resulted in my cold wet self emerging from the other end of the sump feeling like I had achieved something only to find my caving party emerging from a crawl ahead of me in hyena mode, those bloody dry bastards!
Anyhow the guy who directed me into the sump and instigated the aforementioned trick probably never banked on meeting me only a few short hours later in Hitch and Hike, and no more than two feet away from the ice axes too!
Beyond the sump we met up with a group of folk who were diving some digging equipment through Ink sump and we stopped to talk for a while, I took the time to consider just what a good trip it was. We had been bumping into groups of people all morning and afternoon and it made Peak feel like a very warm and active place. Full of pockets of life and a great deal of club vs club North/South banter.
On the way back some of the dive team followed and I opted for the sump once again, followed by Rob who clearly wasn't afraid of a little water either, top man!
On the way out Peter did a terrible job of cleaning his oversuit and brought shame to the entire team, a shame that could only have been surpassed by Les once in the showcave when upon seeing an approaching group of over thirty tourists coming towards him, promptly stumbled down a step and almost fell flat on his face immediately bringing the entire pursuit of caving into disrepute. Luckily the tour guide saved the day by claiming we weren't actually cavers and were in fact 'monsters' which judging by the state of Peter's oversuit wasn't too far from the truth.
A few of the passing tourists enquired if we were on "the calender" which we explained we weren't. They were visibly disappointed and a great many of them complimented me on my one glove.
All in all it was an absolutely fantastic trip and while it wasn't Titan, I feel that 6 months into being a caver and at the tender age of 27, I am sure that there will be other chances and this year alone bigger things are already beckoning.
It was a fantastic weekend and so a big thanks go to Les and Wendy for organising it and to everyone who came along for making it such a great trip.
Conclusion... I'm not done with Derbyshire by a long shot, fantastic caving.
