A tale from the dark depths of Penyghent Pot
Cavers: Charlotte Payne, Russell Woodger, Todd Rye
Hope had been fading for a trip underground for the next weekend, when my phone went ping on Monday morning. It was a message from Charlotte saying that her and Russell were going to come up and wondered if I fancied a trip. Eager to get something ticked off, I asked what she had in mind. Her response “Something miserable from the Black Book was our plan” because of course it was.
Not sure what came over me, but I quickly suggested Penyghent, into the extensions. Charlotte admitted that the idea had been floated but scrubbed due to the weather forecast. I looked again and thought it could actually turn out better than initial long range forecasts. We decided to keep an eye on it, and have a Bye George to Top Sink trip as a backup plan. The days rolled by and the forecast steadily kept improving. I had a mad panic on Wednesday, realising that I didn't own enough neoprene for the Living Dead extensions, and quickly bought myself a small and medium 3mm vest. Being on the cusp of sizes meant I wasn't sure which would be a better fit. Friday came around and we were set on going for what the Black Book describes as “the most arduous non diving trip in Yorkshire”. Sometimes I shouldn't make suggestions…
My vests arrived and I had a small fashion show for the members at the Dump, waiting for the others to arrive from down south. Medium fitted me best, which worked out well, as Charlottes didn't arrive in time, and the small would work for her. She ended up being incredibly thankful for it in the end. We packed the ropes, using as much thin stuff as possible, getting it down to two bags for rigging. This left a third bag to be filled with as much food as we could possibly carry. Soreen, pittas, hummus, rainbow laces, and cereal bars flew into a Daren drum. Oh, and the rubber duck from my dashboard, because we couldn't just have a sensible trip. Off to bed before an early start (leaving the Dump at 8 was the plan.)
Breakfast was had, with a questionable choice by me of putting caramelised biscuit spread on my sausage sandwich, much to the bemusement of the others. I blame the delirium of having just woken up and the day ahead. Knitting up there was the usual level of faff, and we didn't set off up the hill till gone quarter to nine. The walk up was horrible, even with most of the neoprene being peeled off me. We grumbled about the glowing orb in the sky, secretly thankful that it wasn't raining. Arrived at the hole around half nine, and I quickly left the heat of the day, desperate to plunge into that lovely canal.
I had the first bag, so set off at pace to rig the first four pitches. The canal flew by quickly, and I enjoyed the cooling sensation of the water slowly flowing into my wetsuit. Twin falls pitch came and went, and Easy Passage took me to the second, then the third and fourth combined. Here was where I ran out of rope. There had been some idea that we would put the vests and hoods in this bag to carry them further in the cave, but I decided I was a happy temperature wearing it on the way down, so I would keep it on the rest of the way.
The others caught me up, and we headed into the Rift section. Russell took over rigging, but I free climbed the first of the pitches to wander on ahead. A few free climbs and short pitches later we were at Pool Chamber, and then on to Myers Leap. The Main Stream Passage was pleasantly cooling in the knee to neck deep water, and soon I found myself looking down the tenth pitch. We wouldn't be descending it today though, our extravaganza was lurking ominously above.
The freeclimb into Niagara Passage looks far more daunting than it is, but it is exposed! From here, the crawl took us to the Norman Bates Motel at Eerie Pot, our first pitstop for the day. We decided to leave most of the food here, shoving many cereal bars into our pockets, and shoving a lot of bread and hummus into our stomachs. After a brief rest, we looked at the in situ traverse line and decided it was safe to use. There was some thought that we may add on the Friday the 13th on after going to Too Long Gone, so we decided to take our SRT kits and the rope through Psycho Crawl and leave them at the start of the Highway to Hell. I had the pleasure of crossing Eerie pot first, an incredibly bold step, and I have long legs! Charlotte had a bit more of an entertaining time, but Russell is also tall, and we got across without too much hassle.
As we crawled along the lowering cobble-filled passage, we mused about what a “waterlogged struggle” might look like, until I rounded a corner and stopped for a moment. “I think I'm about to find out…” I said, before warning the others to give me a headstart so I wasn't holding them up in the water. It's flat out and I decided that helmet off would give easier head movement to avoid having my face completely in the water. I pressed on, the roof of the passage seemingly covered by tiny hooks which kept catching my hair, rather annoyingly. It didn't take too long to be back into relatively dry passage, and at least this bit was hands and knees! At the time I didn't appreciate this for what it was, a real luxury to not be flat out. As Charlotte followed me through, she said “You seem to be shedding cereal bars here”, causing me to discover that Psycho Crawl had claimed it's first victim, my poor oversuit pocket! So much for the idea of always having snacks on me. We soon reached the junction and looked into the Highway to Hell.
We shed our SRT kits, rope, and anything we didn't want to drag through a long crawl. Charlotte took the lead, as the skinniest person to provide moral support from the other side of the squeezes. I was in the middle, which I found nice, being able to talk to both my wonderful companions. The crawling is decidedly awkward, but it didn't take us too long to reach the Kidney Crusher, with Charlotte clearing most of the cobbles, and me clearing out a few more to make it more pleasant for the slightly broader chested members of the party.
“Just pause there a second Russell, I need to back up to move this cobble out the way… oh bollocks that's bedrock, never mind then”
But it was passed, and we carried on, crawling ever deeper into my favourite of the three peaks. Charlotte soon was stopped in the passage ahead of me, and I realised that this was the Dialysis Machine, which my yardstick (Mike Bottomley) had said I'd fit through, but would find tight. Charlotte shed a few bits of paraphernalia, and decided she really didn't need her whistle and knife, so would leave them there. She forced her way through, declaring that that was her limit with the amount of neoprene she had on. Then it was my turn.
I opened up all my layers and tried to push through with a bare chest, but not a bare back. This proved to be awkward and I thought I wouldn't fit. I had heard stories of people shedding all their layers to get through this, and decided that was my only way to get through. So off came the oversuit and my wetsuit, which was a real struggle in a flat out crawl. Left in my neoprene vest to protect my poor skin, I pushed my chest through, elated to find it quite simple once I had breathed out fully. Then came the embarrassing bit. As I tried to maintain some decency, my wetsuit was bunching up around my hips. Realising it was just going to be pulled down as I pulled myself all the way though the squeeze, I warned my poor companions to avert their eyes, unless they wanted an eyeful. (Russell later said that it was alright, the passage was flat out and awkward enough that he couldn't really get a good view even if he'd wanted to. I took this to mean he really wanted to check out my rear but couldn't.) Having pulled myself and then my clothing through, I had the same struggle putting them back on in a flat out crawl, this time with the added pleasure of a puddle of water.
Nevertheless I was soon dressed, and Russell started making his way through. He tried once with all his layers. “No, that's not happening.” He pulled back and opened up his wetsuit. He managed to force his way through like that, much to my annoyance.
From here, the crawl continued until we reached a slightly taller section where we decided to put our hoods on, knowing that Gloom Doom was around the corner. Charlotte admitted that this was the bit she was most dreading. But she valiantly led the way as the water got higher and the roof got lower. Soon we were floating on our backs, and pedalling our way through. The airspace was between three and six inches I would say, and I found it a strange perspective to be looking up along a flat out passage. Oddly, we were all laughing and thoroughly enjoying ourselves! Gloom Doom was proving to be the exact opposite, incredibly fun! It didn't take long to get through to Not Tharratts Aven, where we relished the chance to stand up for the first time since Eerie Pot.
Here Russell overtook me, and I followed the two of them through, looking into Pillpopper Passage before continuing on to Relief Junction. We were all in very good spirits, and looked briefly towards Better Dead Than Welsh, before continuing on towards Acieed Aven. Another chance to stand up straight! From here, I glanced quickly at the other end of Pillpopper, and was glad we had come the way we had. Soon came Paradise, which was paradise compared to the rest. A bizarre passage in that it begins abruptly, and ends the same way not long after. We decided to leave the bag with the shelter and the rubber duck here, before I took the lead and plunged into Paradise Lost. This canal was incredible, ranging from crawling at the shallowest to neck deep submersion at the deepest. Well, neck deep for me. Charlotte on the other hand is over a foot shorter than me, which led to this wonderful exchange.
“Bad news Charlotte, you're about to go for a swim.”
“Oh no! Maybe I can scoot around at the corner and it won't be so deep.” Followed by a shriek as she found she couldn't do that.
Before long, we crawled out onto the boulder collapse at the Interdiction junction, and pressed on into Too Long Gone. Finally. The real depths of Penyghent Pot, possibly the most remote place in England. It definitely felt that way, we were very far from home. I pressed on down the canal until the abrupt corner where it gets deeper towards the sump pool. We stopped and stared, thinking about the caverns measureless that lay beyond, carrying the water towards Brants Gill.
We didn't feel the urge to go dig however, and after topping up the sump we headed back towards Interdiction. Here I felt the fatigue starting to hit me, after not the best night's sleep. I told the others at the junction that they should press on into Interdiction, and I would go and have a nap in Paradise waiting for them. They agreed after making sure I was alright and not too shagged, and Russell pressed some snacks into my hands, which would be fun to carry due to my lack of pocket. Shoving them into my wetsuit, I waded along towards Paradise, feeling the bars slowly making their way to my crotch area. Luckily I made it out the canal before they went too far south.
I ate some snacks, pulled the shelter out, and cocooned myself on a sandback, falling asleep quite quickly. I woke up feeling a bit chilly, but running up and down the passage soon fixed this, and I retreated back to my cocoon. Not long after, I heard the other returning, having been gone an hour or so. I was feeling much more chipper after my nap, and led the way back to Relief, where I very nearly missed the turning. Pressing on, we soon found ourselves back at Not Tharratts, where we stood up, to savour the feeling of verticality. Deciding not to get too shivery, I headed on into Gloom Doom, finding it just as fun on the return journey.
Back to crawling rather than floating, and the section between the end of the duck and the Dialysis Machine was far longer than I remembered, but soon we were back at the dreaded squeeze that had taken my modesty some hours before. I looked at it again, and this time tried it with my wetsuit open, on my back instead. I popped through incredibly easily, much to the amusement of my companions (and myself) that I had done all that stripping and faff for literally nothing earlier. Ah well, lesson learned, try harder before getting your buttocks out underground.
After a good laugh at my expense, we were soon all through, and back to the monotonous crawling. Flat out crawling for that long really takes it out of you, especially when fighting a lot of neoprene. 7mm of neoprene on the torso was a lot to fight against, but I was definitely glad of it for warmth and buoyancy. I was starting to stray into unhappy territory when we finally popped out at the junction, and could stop to catch our breaths. Charlotte seemed to sense my teetering on the edge of unhappiness, and threw a cereal bar at me, sorting me out perfectly. Here I realised that my oversuit had decided that having the velcro holding it closed actually be stitched to itself was overrated, and it was all just sort of flapping about, not protecting my wetsuit underneath. We donned our SRT kits and headed back into Psycho Crawl, having decided that Friday the 13th could wait for another day.
The waterlogged struggle seemed much easier on the way back, and soon we found ourselves back at Eerie pot, where we stopped for the second pitstop of the day. A very large amount of food was consumed, and I realised just how hungry I actually was. Plus anything that we ate was weight we didn't have to carry out. A debate was had about who would derig, and finally we settled on Charlotte with Russell aiding in bag carrying, as Charlotte had valiantly dragged the bag all the way to Paradise and back (for which I am very grateful to her.) So I was left with the food bag, and it was suggested that I should just press on to save waiting around at pitches. So off we went, joking that we just had the “entrance series” left, quoting an excellent trip report we had read previously.
At Myers Leap I found the final casualty of Psycho Crawl, my poor short cowstail had been rubbed to the core on the knot. I didn't have much choice but to use it, luckily there was nowhere I was solely reliant on it for the rest of the trip. Up I went, pitch followed by climb and so forth, until after some effort I reached the big pitch. Here I sat briefly, catching my breath, and then slowly prussiking away till I reached the rebelay and then the top. Up the next pitch, and into Easy Passage. Halfway along this I stopped and sat down, the effort of the trip catching up to me. I decided that I'd wait here till I could hear the others, as it would be nice to exit the cave together, as we had entered it so long ago. Plus there were infinitely less midges here than I suspected there would be on the surface.
After some time I heard the classic sound of caver moving along a streamway, and set off towards Twin Falls. I had just gotten to the top when Charlotte appeared at the base, and we gathered along the stooping height passage as Russell derigged the final rope. Charlotte complained about a few of my knot choices, for which I dutifully apologised. Then it was off along the entrance canal, the thought of dinner and a pint driving us towards the surface. Russell joked that crawling over the silt banks felt like a spa in comparison to the earlier crawls, to which I responded that all the grit and gravel in my gloves felt like acupuncture, only shit. Soon the climb out of the canal was reached, followed quickly by the entrance shaft.
We surfaced at 9pm, 11 and a half hours after entering, tired but incredibly happy to have ticked off an excellent trip. The icing on the cake was a lovely sunset, which we appreciated as we stomped down to the warmth and dry of the Dump. An absolutely excellent trip with some excellent people, one which I would say felt the most remote I've ever been. I didn't find it as arduous as I had expected, though my body does feel like it's been through the wars the next day.
Cavers: Charlotte Payne, Russell Woodger, Todd Rye
Hope had been fading for a trip underground for the next weekend, when my phone went ping on Monday morning. It was a message from Charlotte saying that her and Russell were going to come up and wondered if I fancied a trip. Eager to get something ticked off, I asked what she had in mind. Her response “Something miserable from the Black Book was our plan” because of course it was.
Not sure what came over me, but I quickly suggested Penyghent, into the extensions. Charlotte admitted that the idea had been floated but scrubbed due to the weather forecast. I looked again and thought it could actually turn out better than initial long range forecasts. We decided to keep an eye on it, and have a Bye George to Top Sink trip as a backup plan. The days rolled by and the forecast steadily kept improving. I had a mad panic on Wednesday, realising that I didn't own enough neoprene for the Living Dead extensions, and quickly bought myself a small and medium 3mm vest. Being on the cusp of sizes meant I wasn't sure which would be a better fit. Friday came around and we were set on going for what the Black Book describes as “the most arduous non diving trip in Yorkshire”. Sometimes I shouldn't make suggestions…
My vests arrived and I had a small fashion show for the members at the Dump, waiting for the others to arrive from down south. Medium fitted me best, which worked out well, as Charlottes didn't arrive in time, and the small would work for her. She ended up being incredibly thankful for it in the end. We packed the ropes, using as much thin stuff as possible, getting it down to two bags for rigging. This left a third bag to be filled with as much food as we could possibly carry. Soreen, pittas, hummus, rainbow laces, and cereal bars flew into a Daren drum. Oh, and the rubber duck from my dashboard, because we couldn't just have a sensible trip. Off to bed before an early start (leaving the Dump at 8 was the plan.)
Breakfast was had, with a questionable choice by me of putting caramelised biscuit spread on my sausage sandwich, much to the bemusement of the others. I blame the delirium of having just woken up and the day ahead. Knitting up there was the usual level of faff, and we didn't set off up the hill till gone quarter to nine. The walk up was horrible, even with most of the neoprene being peeled off me. We grumbled about the glowing orb in the sky, secretly thankful that it wasn't raining. Arrived at the hole around half nine, and I quickly left the heat of the day, desperate to plunge into that lovely canal.
I had the first bag, so set off at pace to rig the first four pitches. The canal flew by quickly, and I enjoyed the cooling sensation of the water slowly flowing into my wetsuit. Twin falls pitch came and went, and Easy Passage took me to the second, then the third and fourth combined. Here was where I ran out of rope. There had been some idea that we would put the vests and hoods in this bag to carry them further in the cave, but I decided I was a happy temperature wearing it on the way down, so I would keep it on the rest of the way.
The others caught me up, and we headed into the Rift section. Russell took over rigging, but I free climbed the first of the pitches to wander on ahead. A few free climbs and short pitches later we were at Pool Chamber, and then on to Myers Leap. The Main Stream Passage was pleasantly cooling in the knee to neck deep water, and soon I found myself looking down the tenth pitch. We wouldn't be descending it today though, our extravaganza was lurking ominously above.
The freeclimb into Niagara Passage looks far more daunting than it is, but it is exposed! From here, the crawl took us to the Norman Bates Motel at Eerie Pot, our first pitstop for the day. We decided to leave most of the food here, shoving many cereal bars into our pockets, and shoving a lot of bread and hummus into our stomachs. After a brief rest, we looked at the in situ traverse line and decided it was safe to use. There was some thought that we may add on the Friday the 13th on after going to Too Long Gone, so we decided to take our SRT kits and the rope through Psycho Crawl and leave them at the start of the Highway to Hell. I had the pleasure of crossing Eerie pot first, an incredibly bold step, and I have long legs! Charlotte had a bit more of an entertaining time, but Russell is also tall, and we got across without too much hassle.
As we crawled along the lowering cobble-filled passage, we mused about what a “waterlogged struggle” might look like, until I rounded a corner and stopped for a moment. “I think I'm about to find out…” I said, before warning the others to give me a headstart so I wasn't holding them up in the water. It's flat out and I decided that helmet off would give easier head movement to avoid having my face completely in the water. I pressed on, the roof of the passage seemingly covered by tiny hooks which kept catching my hair, rather annoyingly. It didn't take too long to be back into relatively dry passage, and at least this bit was hands and knees! At the time I didn't appreciate this for what it was, a real luxury to not be flat out. As Charlotte followed me through, she said “You seem to be shedding cereal bars here”, causing me to discover that Psycho Crawl had claimed it's first victim, my poor oversuit pocket! So much for the idea of always having snacks on me. We soon reached the junction and looked into the Highway to Hell.
We shed our SRT kits, rope, and anything we didn't want to drag through a long crawl. Charlotte took the lead, as the skinniest person to provide moral support from the other side of the squeezes. I was in the middle, which I found nice, being able to talk to both my wonderful companions. The crawling is decidedly awkward, but it didn't take us too long to reach the Kidney Crusher, with Charlotte clearing most of the cobbles, and me clearing out a few more to make it more pleasant for the slightly broader chested members of the party.
“Just pause there a second Russell, I need to back up to move this cobble out the way… oh bollocks that's bedrock, never mind then”
But it was passed, and we carried on, crawling ever deeper into my favourite of the three peaks. Charlotte soon was stopped in the passage ahead of me, and I realised that this was the Dialysis Machine, which my yardstick (Mike Bottomley) had said I'd fit through, but would find tight. Charlotte shed a few bits of paraphernalia, and decided she really didn't need her whistle and knife, so would leave them there. She forced her way through, declaring that that was her limit with the amount of neoprene she had on. Then it was my turn.
I opened up all my layers and tried to push through with a bare chest, but not a bare back. This proved to be awkward and I thought I wouldn't fit. I had heard stories of people shedding all their layers to get through this, and decided that was my only way to get through. So off came the oversuit and my wetsuit, which was a real struggle in a flat out crawl. Left in my neoprene vest to protect my poor skin, I pushed my chest through, elated to find it quite simple once I had breathed out fully. Then came the embarrassing bit. As I tried to maintain some decency, my wetsuit was bunching up around my hips. Realising it was just going to be pulled down as I pulled myself all the way though the squeeze, I warned my poor companions to avert their eyes, unless they wanted an eyeful. (Russell later said that it was alright, the passage was flat out and awkward enough that he couldn't really get a good view even if he'd wanted to. I took this to mean he really wanted to check out my rear but couldn't.) Having pulled myself and then my clothing through, I had the same struggle putting them back on in a flat out crawl, this time with the added pleasure of a puddle of water.
Nevertheless I was soon dressed, and Russell started making his way through. He tried once with all his layers. “No, that's not happening.” He pulled back and opened up his wetsuit. He managed to force his way through like that, much to my annoyance.
From here, the crawl continued until we reached a slightly taller section where we decided to put our hoods on, knowing that Gloom Doom was around the corner. Charlotte admitted that this was the bit she was most dreading. But she valiantly led the way as the water got higher and the roof got lower. Soon we were floating on our backs, and pedalling our way through. The airspace was between three and six inches I would say, and I found it a strange perspective to be looking up along a flat out passage. Oddly, we were all laughing and thoroughly enjoying ourselves! Gloom Doom was proving to be the exact opposite, incredibly fun! It didn't take long to get through to Not Tharratts Aven, where we relished the chance to stand up for the first time since Eerie Pot.
Here Russell overtook me, and I followed the two of them through, looking into Pillpopper Passage before continuing on to Relief Junction. We were all in very good spirits, and looked briefly towards Better Dead Than Welsh, before continuing on towards Acieed Aven. Another chance to stand up straight! From here, I glanced quickly at the other end of Pillpopper, and was glad we had come the way we had. Soon came Paradise, which was paradise compared to the rest. A bizarre passage in that it begins abruptly, and ends the same way not long after. We decided to leave the bag with the shelter and the rubber duck here, before I took the lead and plunged into Paradise Lost. This canal was incredible, ranging from crawling at the shallowest to neck deep submersion at the deepest. Well, neck deep for me. Charlotte on the other hand is over a foot shorter than me, which led to this wonderful exchange.
“Bad news Charlotte, you're about to go for a swim.”
“Oh no! Maybe I can scoot around at the corner and it won't be so deep.” Followed by a shriek as she found she couldn't do that.
Before long, we crawled out onto the boulder collapse at the Interdiction junction, and pressed on into Too Long Gone. Finally. The real depths of Penyghent Pot, possibly the most remote place in England. It definitely felt that way, we were very far from home. I pressed on down the canal until the abrupt corner where it gets deeper towards the sump pool. We stopped and stared, thinking about the caverns measureless that lay beyond, carrying the water towards Brants Gill.
We didn't feel the urge to go dig however, and after topping up the sump we headed back towards Interdiction. Here I felt the fatigue starting to hit me, after not the best night's sleep. I told the others at the junction that they should press on into Interdiction, and I would go and have a nap in Paradise waiting for them. They agreed after making sure I was alright and not too shagged, and Russell pressed some snacks into my hands, which would be fun to carry due to my lack of pocket. Shoving them into my wetsuit, I waded along towards Paradise, feeling the bars slowly making their way to my crotch area. Luckily I made it out the canal before they went too far south.
I ate some snacks, pulled the shelter out, and cocooned myself on a sandback, falling asleep quite quickly. I woke up feeling a bit chilly, but running up and down the passage soon fixed this, and I retreated back to my cocoon. Not long after, I heard the other returning, having been gone an hour or so. I was feeling much more chipper after my nap, and led the way back to Relief, where I very nearly missed the turning. Pressing on, we soon found ourselves back at Not Tharratts, where we stood up, to savour the feeling of verticality. Deciding not to get too shivery, I headed on into Gloom Doom, finding it just as fun on the return journey.
Back to crawling rather than floating, and the section between the end of the duck and the Dialysis Machine was far longer than I remembered, but soon we were back at the dreaded squeeze that had taken my modesty some hours before. I looked at it again, and this time tried it with my wetsuit open, on my back instead. I popped through incredibly easily, much to the amusement of my companions (and myself) that I had done all that stripping and faff for literally nothing earlier. Ah well, lesson learned, try harder before getting your buttocks out underground.
After a good laugh at my expense, we were soon all through, and back to the monotonous crawling. Flat out crawling for that long really takes it out of you, especially when fighting a lot of neoprene. 7mm of neoprene on the torso was a lot to fight against, but I was definitely glad of it for warmth and buoyancy. I was starting to stray into unhappy territory when we finally popped out at the junction, and could stop to catch our breaths. Charlotte seemed to sense my teetering on the edge of unhappiness, and threw a cereal bar at me, sorting me out perfectly. Here I realised that my oversuit had decided that having the velcro holding it closed actually be stitched to itself was overrated, and it was all just sort of flapping about, not protecting my wetsuit underneath. We donned our SRT kits and headed back into Psycho Crawl, having decided that Friday the 13th could wait for another day.
The waterlogged struggle seemed much easier on the way back, and soon we found ourselves back at Eerie pot, where we stopped for the second pitstop of the day. A very large amount of food was consumed, and I realised just how hungry I actually was. Plus anything that we ate was weight we didn't have to carry out. A debate was had about who would derig, and finally we settled on Charlotte with Russell aiding in bag carrying, as Charlotte had valiantly dragged the bag all the way to Paradise and back (for which I am very grateful to her.) So I was left with the food bag, and it was suggested that I should just press on to save waiting around at pitches. So off we went, joking that we just had the “entrance series” left, quoting an excellent trip report we had read previously.
At Myers Leap I found the final casualty of Psycho Crawl, my poor short cowstail had been rubbed to the core on the knot. I didn't have much choice but to use it, luckily there was nowhere I was solely reliant on it for the rest of the trip. Up I went, pitch followed by climb and so forth, until after some effort I reached the big pitch. Here I sat briefly, catching my breath, and then slowly prussiking away till I reached the rebelay and then the top. Up the next pitch, and into Easy Passage. Halfway along this I stopped and sat down, the effort of the trip catching up to me. I decided that I'd wait here till I could hear the others, as it would be nice to exit the cave together, as we had entered it so long ago. Plus there were infinitely less midges here than I suspected there would be on the surface.
After some time I heard the classic sound of caver moving along a streamway, and set off towards Twin Falls. I had just gotten to the top when Charlotte appeared at the base, and we gathered along the stooping height passage as Russell derigged the final rope. Charlotte complained about a few of my knot choices, for which I dutifully apologised. Then it was off along the entrance canal, the thought of dinner and a pint driving us towards the surface. Russell joked that crawling over the silt banks felt like a spa in comparison to the earlier crawls, to which I responded that all the grit and gravel in my gloves felt like acupuncture, only shit. Soon the climb out of the canal was reached, followed quickly by the entrance shaft.
We surfaced at 9pm, 11 and a half hours after entering, tired but incredibly happy to have ticked off an excellent trip. The icing on the cake was a lovely sunset, which we appreciated as we stomped down to the warmth and dry of the Dump. An absolutely excellent trip with some excellent people, one which I would say felt the most remote I've ever been. I didn't find it as arduous as I had expected, though my body does feel like it's been through the wars the next day.
