MarkS
Moderator
(Part 2)
It’s amazing the effect that hot food, a hot drink and the warmth of a bothy can achieve. Mark and I opted for a two-person strategy in the sump, one of us manning the pump and filling trays, and the other dragging mud and gravel out of what we assumed was the way on (although our evidence for this was limited). At this point the pump was dealing with some seriously viscous gloop and the team above were having to manually assist their pump to start by spinning the cooling fans. Desperation levels increased with still no sign of a breakthrough, resulting in Mark R fully stretched into the presumed way on with only his head visible. “Grab my arm and pull me back out” was his suggestion at what felt like peak desperation as we resorted to using him as a human plunger. I did as requested, and another wave of slop came our way. Mark reckoned he might be able to feel a rise in the roof. This tactic seemed vaguely effective, so we tried again, and this time it was followed by a surprising gurgle. Interesting.
Time to start the pump again. We did so and were rapidly treated to a long series of loud gurgles and glugs. The sump was breaking! Excitement levels were high, but peering along the too-tight, slop-filled and very low passage rapidly tempered our positivity. Thankfully time was on our side, so another hour or so could be spent scooping, hauling and pumping, before Mark disappeared in head-first and helmet off to report an upward slope on the far side, unfortunately looking impassable. We swapped at this point and I took a look through, faced with a 30 degree upward gravel slope looking ominously like it could slump towards me. If it happened it would rapidly make the lowest point of the sump (that my legs were in) too tight to return through. I requested a drag tray and with some significant kicking from the far side, I just about squeezed it in next to me before scraping the gravel bank into it and forcing it back through the flat -passage. Mark manned the pump behind me and continued to send trays of slurry up to the pool. 8 trays or so later, I reckoned I could just about squeeze my way up, and Mark assured me that any slump would be able to be cleared out by those behind. Fingers crossed! I thrutched my way 4 or 5 metres up the tube, dragging pipe with me that we’d agreed in advance had to be our first priority (being able to have a pipe outlet just above sump level would be a vastly easier problem to solve than our existing setup where water needed to be pumped about 20m vertically and ~150 metres horizontally to the watershed in the Ice Cream Trail. Above me the passage enlarged to crawling height, still ascending, before again lowering to an incredibly strenuous fla- out struggle between a mud/gravel floor and the roof, not helped by my reluctance to pull spoil down towards the slope and constriction below. This slope was a very soft waterlogged sand and silt mixture with the strange property of forming large blisters of wobbly material that would shed itself down the slope. Finally I was through, exhausted but still dragging the pipe towards what I could now see was an Ice Cream Trail-like rift continuation ahead, about a metre wide and 3 m high. Looking at the floor I was relieved to see I’d reached a watershed, so quickly ensured the pipe was secure under some loose blocks. I was breathing seriously hard by this point, aware that I had been for some time, and also aware that Mark had questioned the air quality shortly before I left the low point in the sump. Appealing as the onward passage was, a retreat seemed the wise option. It was with no small amount of relief that I was back by the pump describing it to Mark. He opted for a look too, while I went to wash my mud-filled eyes above, and returned from the same point also unsure whether exertion and relatively significant nervous energy or air quality were the cause of our tiredness. Time for another brew.
At this juncture we experienced what we assume may have been a new experience for digging and cave exploration: a video call with all those invested and involved in the project from underground, including one participant at their surface dig in the Dales!
Suitably hydrated and warmed, and with no one else seeming too keen on experiencing what we’d described, Mark and I went through again to see what was beyond. Only 8 m or so further than the pipe we reached an enlargement and a pitch that we clearly weren’t going to be dropping without all the kit for SRT. The rift enlarged to about 2 m wide here, a rubble slope perched 6 m or so ahead of us, and beneath a narrowing below we could see about 8 metres down to a spacious rubble floor below. Whether or not it is significant, we don’t know but there were some small puddles of water visible on the floor. As if to re-emphasise the impossibility of descent, we also established that the right-hand wall peeled off in large flakes. We weren’t going to be dropping this pitch today. Back at the pump we could breathe a real sigh of relief, and ponder our surprise that our seemingly far-fetched plans had actually worked and that we’d passed the sump, even if what lay beyond wasn’t the kilometre of easily accessible, huge passage we’d speculated may lie there.
Out on the surface for 8:30 we knew that the excitement of the day was going to be tempered by the work needed the next morning. Just 4 of us underground and one on the surface were available for the mammoth derig. 9 tackle sacks, 200m+ of cable, one huge tarpaulin, 5 drag trays and some ropes all needed hauling to the surface. At least it felt better than it would have done had we not made it through the day before!
Since finishing we have collectively pondered that the main continuation of the sump may very well lie beyond and below the initial rising gravel bank and that the clean washed rift we ended up in at the top of the rise is simply a roof level bypass. If that was the case, we could possibly reach the back of the main passage blockage by descending the pitch and returning upstream- if we did this and were faced with the back side of a blockage it is entirely possible the sump could be made free draining. But that’s a lot of ifs.
So, what next? It’s a good question. There can’t be many (or even any) locations in the UK with a known undescended pitch…so watch this space!
It’s amazing the effect that hot food, a hot drink and the warmth of a bothy can achieve. Mark and I opted for a two-person strategy in the sump, one of us manning the pump and filling trays, and the other dragging mud and gravel out of what we assumed was the way on (although our evidence for this was limited). At this point the pump was dealing with some seriously viscous gloop and the team above were having to manually assist their pump to start by spinning the cooling fans. Desperation levels increased with still no sign of a breakthrough, resulting in Mark R fully stretched into the presumed way on with only his head visible. “Grab my arm and pull me back out” was his suggestion at what felt like peak desperation as we resorted to using him as a human plunger. I did as requested, and another wave of slop came our way. Mark reckoned he might be able to feel a rise in the roof. This tactic seemed vaguely effective, so we tried again, and this time it was followed by a surprising gurgle. Interesting.
Time to start the pump again. We did so and were rapidly treated to a long series of loud gurgles and glugs. The sump was breaking! Excitement levels were high, but peering along the too-tight, slop-filled and very low passage rapidly tempered our positivity. Thankfully time was on our side, so another hour or so could be spent scooping, hauling and pumping, before Mark disappeared in head-first and helmet off to report an upward slope on the far side, unfortunately looking impassable. We swapped at this point and I took a look through, faced with a 30 degree upward gravel slope looking ominously like it could slump towards me. If it happened it would rapidly make the lowest point of the sump (that my legs were in) too tight to return through. I requested a drag tray and with some significant kicking from the far side, I just about squeezed it in next to me before scraping the gravel bank into it and forcing it back through the flat -passage. Mark manned the pump behind me and continued to send trays of slurry up to the pool. 8 trays or so later, I reckoned I could just about squeeze my way up, and Mark assured me that any slump would be able to be cleared out by those behind. Fingers crossed! I thrutched my way 4 or 5 metres up the tube, dragging pipe with me that we’d agreed in advance had to be our first priority (being able to have a pipe outlet just above sump level would be a vastly easier problem to solve than our existing setup where water needed to be pumped about 20m vertically and ~150 metres horizontally to the watershed in the Ice Cream Trail. Above me the passage enlarged to crawling height, still ascending, before again lowering to an incredibly strenuous fla- out struggle between a mud/gravel floor and the roof, not helped by my reluctance to pull spoil down towards the slope and constriction below. This slope was a very soft waterlogged sand and silt mixture with the strange property of forming large blisters of wobbly material that would shed itself down the slope. Finally I was through, exhausted but still dragging the pipe towards what I could now see was an Ice Cream Trail-like rift continuation ahead, about a metre wide and 3 m high. Looking at the floor I was relieved to see I’d reached a watershed, so quickly ensured the pipe was secure under some loose blocks. I was breathing seriously hard by this point, aware that I had been for some time, and also aware that Mark had questioned the air quality shortly before I left the low point in the sump. Appealing as the onward passage was, a retreat seemed the wise option. It was with no small amount of relief that I was back by the pump describing it to Mark. He opted for a look too, while I went to wash my mud-filled eyes above, and returned from the same point also unsure whether exertion and relatively significant nervous energy or air quality were the cause of our tiredness. Time for another brew.
At this juncture we experienced what we assume may have been a new experience for digging and cave exploration: a video call with all those invested and involved in the project from underground, including one participant at their surface dig in the Dales!
Suitably hydrated and warmed, and with no one else seeming too keen on experiencing what we’d described, Mark and I went through again to see what was beyond. Only 8 m or so further than the pipe we reached an enlargement and a pitch that we clearly weren’t going to be dropping without all the kit for SRT. The rift enlarged to about 2 m wide here, a rubble slope perched 6 m or so ahead of us, and beneath a narrowing below we could see about 8 metres down to a spacious rubble floor below. Whether or not it is significant, we don’t know but there were some small puddles of water visible on the floor. As if to re-emphasise the impossibility of descent, we also established that the right-hand wall peeled off in large flakes. We weren’t going to be dropping this pitch today. Back at the pump we could breathe a real sigh of relief, and ponder our surprise that our seemingly far-fetched plans had actually worked and that we’d passed the sump, even if what lay beyond wasn’t the kilometre of easily accessible, huge passage we’d speculated may lie there.
Out on the surface for 8:30 we knew that the excitement of the day was going to be tempered by the work needed the next morning. Just 4 of us underground and one on the surface were available for the mammoth derig. 9 tackle sacks, 200m+ of cable, one huge tarpaulin, 5 drag trays and some ropes all needed hauling to the surface. At least it felt better than it would have done had we not made it through the day before!
Since finishing we have collectively pondered that the main continuation of the sump may very well lie beyond and below the initial rising gravel bank and that the clean washed rift we ended up in at the top of the rise is simply a roof level bypass. If that was the case, we could possibly reach the back of the main passage blockage by descending the pitch and returning upstream- if we did this and were faced with the back side of a blockage it is entirely possible the sump could be made free draining. But that’s a lot of ifs.
So, what next? It’s a good question. There can’t be many (or even any) locations in the UK with a known undescended pitch…so watch this space!
