Simon Beck
Member
It's now more than a year, since my last brief albeit none the less intense and eventful return to potholing. At that time i'd just returned from london, vowed i'd never leave the dales ever again and pretty much sold my soul to the underground related ambitions i held at that time. Also at the same time my selfish needs that had instigated my return to the 'potholing mecca of the uk' and my lifelong home had also created some pretty severe personal problems. Without going into too much detail the ambiguities inherent in my wants and desires and my aspirations for the future were so contraditory and averse that i suffered... badly! as a result. My choice of trips during this period were testament to that suffering althought very little respite was ever forthcoming. Bottoming Langcliffe pot for the 2nd time in my life was the highlight, albeit surviving the trip at the time was regarded as a pity. I'd been working as a bicycle messenger in london prior to this, so i was very fit but not cave fit (i.e hard n irrepressible), i began to suffer physically long before we reached the bottom, mainly due to my thrown together costume of over tight wetsuit bottoms, lotsa t-shirts n jumpers on top and some crappy hi-tec hiking boots cos i had no wellies at the time. The return through the entrance series (by the way this trip was undertaken via the harder main langcliffe entrance) was hell! i swear at the cave and myself, actually i could be wrong but my partner on this day may also have done a little swearing by this point, but i won't hold him to that. After a few weeks recovering (i'm getting old!) and the day before starting a new job, myself and the same partner undertook the pull through of rowte pot in flood conditions. This was the last trip i did during this period, but what a corker! to end on. I recall chain smoking quite a few cigarettes before facing the freedives through to KMC. Ian who dived first was brought to an abrupt halt in the first big sump by a small boulder which he calmly trundled to one side (in his usual sanguine manner), at the sametime my heart missed a beat when the 100metres of rope i was part feeding to him and part fighting the savage current for ownership suddenly stopped dead etc...etc Thankfully the airspaces downstream were still accomodating enough to pass while breathing....... Blah blah i then started my new job, vowed never to cave again and got back into rock climbing instead, i actually finally believed this nice civilised clean lifestyle would last.........................
I've been back at it now for a few weeks, but i've spent many months fighting the urge to return. Back to fantasizing about wetsuits and wetsuits, wetsocks, wellies, regulators, diving bottles, sumps, flooded caves and dark horrible grim forbidding places..
My favourite type of trip are the ones that include a bit of freediving, mainly cos it's such a fun simplistic approach to overcome quite a severe obstacle. Since my return i've been keen to repeat one of the classics, langstroth been the main contender. The previous weekend when i'd hoped to do this, my esteemed colleague had been leading a meregill hole club trip, so instead i passed quietly through simpsons pot and almost made it out without seeing a soul.
The following weekend eventually arrived and so did the typical dales weather, making the afforementioned venue decidedly wet!. But regardless of conditions we were doing it, plus we've tackled it in far worse a state, although we did have a pile of diving gear waiting for us at the bottom. On this occasion all we had waiting was a 3litre bottle and some weight belts which Ian deposited at the bottom of langstroth pot before we headed up the hill, the intention had also been to check the airspaces in the smaller airbell. While Ian dived upstream then freedived back i sat marvelling at my re-introduction to real darkness (while conserving the batteries on my temperamental duo) again and jealously wishing i also still had some diving gear in order to join Ian with his inspection. Due to my lengthy introduction i will cease to bore you with pedantic inch by inch details of the trip. Once Ian had returned to langstroth cave, we jogged up the hill, with i minimalistic kit of one 30-40metre 8mm rope and a harness and belay device a piece. Ian must have been boiling in my old semi dry suit which he'd worn so i could borrow his wetsuit top. From the moment we entered Langstroth pot, you knew it was gonna be a wet n wild trip. The last time i'd completed the through trip in it's entirety was to remove the unsightly telephone line that as run the entire length of the cave for many decades. The trip in question occurred nearly 3 years ago, but funnily enough the tackle sack full of telphone line n question still inhabits the out building of my old flat in skipton..
Anyway once the trip was underway the years that had passed since i was last here ceased to be of relevance, non caving related memories are of little relevance here anyway, aside from the wisdom gained imbetween, the clock had only begun to tick again..... The pitches were nice and wet, the rope pulled through nicely everytime and in no time at all we had arrived at goat inlet, where we reminisced briefly about our past dives here. The head of the pitch prior (penultimate pitch) to goat inlet surprisingly still sported the very old and very lethal old bolts which have been threatening to fail for years now. Considering the frequent rescue practice's that occur here i am shocked and dismayed these have not been replaced!. The ferocious cataract falling down the final and tallest pitch was an intimidating exilarating sight, but the descent was surprisingly dry due to the distance the water was being catapulted out from above. Conditions in the final chamber were wild! to say the least. Within minutes of standing almost still while kitting up for the freedives i had become very cold... We both dived through the 2m sump to higham hall. The Ian diving with his 3litre went first dragging the rope through behind, once the end of the rope had vanished from my hands i waited a minute then joined him quickly on the other side, the dives were bliss!. The most significant factor of the dives was the sudden peace and serenity gained in the airbells after hours of chaos.....
I've been back at it now for a few weeks, but i've spent many months fighting the urge to return. Back to fantasizing about wetsuits and wetsuits, wetsocks, wellies, regulators, diving bottles, sumps, flooded caves and dark horrible grim forbidding places..
My favourite type of trip are the ones that include a bit of freediving, mainly cos it's such a fun simplistic approach to overcome quite a severe obstacle. Since my return i've been keen to repeat one of the classics, langstroth been the main contender. The previous weekend when i'd hoped to do this, my esteemed colleague had been leading a meregill hole club trip, so instead i passed quietly through simpsons pot and almost made it out without seeing a soul.
The following weekend eventually arrived and so did the typical dales weather, making the afforementioned venue decidedly wet!. But regardless of conditions we were doing it, plus we've tackled it in far worse a state, although we did have a pile of diving gear waiting for us at the bottom. On this occasion all we had waiting was a 3litre bottle and some weight belts which Ian deposited at the bottom of langstroth pot before we headed up the hill, the intention had also been to check the airspaces in the smaller airbell. While Ian dived upstream then freedived back i sat marvelling at my re-introduction to real darkness (while conserving the batteries on my temperamental duo) again and jealously wishing i also still had some diving gear in order to join Ian with his inspection. Due to my lengthy introduction i will cease to bore you with pedantic inch by inch details of the trip. Once Ian had returned to langstroth cave, we jogged up the hill, with i minimalistic kit of one 30-40metre 8mm rope and a harness and belay device a piece. Ian must have been boiling in my old semi dry suit which he'd worn so i could borrow his wetsuit top. From the moment we entered Langstroth pot, you knew it was gonna be a wet n wild trip. The last time i'd completed the through trip in it's entirety was to remove the unsightly telephone line that as run the entire length of the cave for many decades. The trip in question occurred nearly 3 years ago, but funnily enough the tackle sack full of telphone line n question still inhabits the out building of my old flat in skipton..
Anyway once the trip was underway the years that had passed since i was last here ceased to be of relevance, non caving related memories are of little relevance here anyway, aside from the wisdom gained imbetween, the clock had only begun to tick again..... The pitches were nice and wet, the rope pulled through nicely everytime and in no time at all we had arrived at goat inlet, where we reminisced briefly about our past dives here. The head of the pitch prior (penultimate pitch) to goat inlet surprisingly still sported the very old and very lethal old bolts which have been threatening to fail for years now. Considering the frequent rescue practice's that occur here i am shocked and dismayed these have not been replaced!. The ferocious cataract falling down the final and tallest pitch was an intimidating exilarating sight, but the descent was surprisingly dry due to the distance the water was being catapulted out from above. Conditions in the final chamber were wild! to say the least. Within minutes of standing almost still while kitting up for the freedives i had become very cold... We both dived through the 2m sump to higham hall. The Ian diving with his 3litre went first dragging the rope through behind, once the end of the rope had vanished from my hands i waited a minute then joined him quickly on the other side, the dives were bliss!. The most significant factor of the dives was the sudden peace and serenity gained in the airbells after hours of chaos.....
