Win a Mountain Equipment Karakorum Goretex Jacket worth ?280!!
- Thread starter Pegasus
- Start date
steviet_scg
Member
Having just had a read through this thread I can't help but notice that Leck Fell and freezing go and hand in hand. On my first trip to Leck Fell it was described to me as 'the coldest place on earth' and I've seen little to dissuade me from that view. I have my fair share of freezing changing escapades to recount from Leck Fell - mainly involving being an idiot and doing things like taking my lamp belt off and dropping it without first taking my helmet off (which for those who never caved with a Oldham or in my case a CEAG gives a very severe case of whiplash), or rolling down my oversuit without first taking my kneepads off and then eventually giving up and virtually having to get dressed again. Anyway ...
For a change I thought I'd tell you about a very nice and warm day - the perfect pleasant type of day.
The trip was into Ireby Fell carrying for 2 cave divers. The trip to the sump was smooth and two divers went through the sump and explored Duke Street 2 whilst we ate jelly babies and drank coffee.
When they came back it was clear that the second diver (who shall remain nameless - but is the same person in this thread http://ukcaving.com/board/index.php?topic=15824.0who dropped his cowstails in Sell Gill) was cold. He'd had a bit of trouble in the low viz and being a frugal old sod had not patched up his wetsuit. To make matters worse we noticed as we helped him out of his rig that he had a (very nice) cotton plaid shirt under his wetsuit . We tried to give him coffee but he was shivering too hard to hold it. The only way to warm him was to get him moving - so we dispatched both divers to the surface - leaving the rest of the small team to carry the gear out and de-rig. We agreed that they should just get out and we'd meet up at the New Inn as we were staying at Greenclose that night.
I shouted down Duke Street a reminder that my clothes were in my rucksack and to leave them out for me.
We surfaced some time later to a lovely evening and trudged down Masongill lane in good spirits and looking forward to a nice pint. We could see from a distance that, much to my relief, there was indeed a rucksack tucked under the boot. It was only when we got closer that I realised that I'd been way too vague in my instructions. I had two not one rucksacks in the car - the one that was left had the usual sort of odd bits of kit that I tend to bring along - basically it was just full of spare bits of neoprene.
But, with the weather fair it was no bother. I dried off in the sun and jumped in the car wearing nowt but my then favourite shreddies - a small, tight and shiny pair of nylon bright red football shorts. The sting in the tail of this story was, of course, that my friends pointblank refused to go into the pub to retrieve my clothes leaving me to do my best to pretend that walking into a Dales pub virtually naked was just normal behavior - how I longed for a ME Karakorum jacket at that moment.
Steve
For a change I thought I'd tell you about a very nice and warm day - the perfect pleasant type of day.
The trip was into Ireby Fell carrying for 2 cave divers. The trip to the sump was smooth and two divers went through the sump and explored Duke Street 2 whilst we ate jelly babies and drank coffee.
When they came back it was clear that the second diver (who shall remain nameless - but is the same person in this thread http://ukcaving.com/board/index.php?topic=15824.0who dropped his cowstails in Sell Gill) was cold. He'd had a bit of trouble in the low viz and being a frugal old sod had not patched up his wetsuit. To make matters worse we noticed as we helped him out of his rig that he had a (very nice) cotton plaid shirt under his wetsuit . We tried to give him coffee but he was shivering too hard to hold it. The only way to warm him was to get him moving - so we dispatched both divers to the surface - leaving the rest of the small team to carry the gear out and de-rig. We agreed that they should just get out and we'd meet up at the New Inn as we were staying at Greenclose that night.
I shouted down Duke Street a reminder that my clothes were in my rucksack and to leave them out for me.
We surfaced some time later to a lovely evening and trudged down Masongill lane in good spirits and looking forward to a nice pint. We could see from a distance that, much to my relief, there was indeed a rucksack tucked under the boot. It was only when we got closer that I realised that I'd been way too vague in my instructions. I had two not one rucksacks in the car - the one that was left had the usual sort of odd bits of kit that I tend to bring along - basically it was just full of spare bits of neoprene.
But, with the weather fair it was no bother. I dried off in the sun and jumped in the car wearing nowt but my then favourite shreddies - a small, tight and shiny pair of nylon bright red football shorts. The sting in the tail of this story was, of course, that my friends pointblank refused to go into the pub to retrieve my clothes leaving me to do my best to pretend that walking into a Dales pub virtually naked was just normal behavior - how I longed for a ME Karakorum jacket at that moment.
Steve
Over the Hill
New member
steviet_scg said:
Obviously not a winning entry as this is continuing self inflicted misery. You only ever cross Leck fell once in Freezing Conditions, thereafter you find a nice warm pub.
Over the Hill
New member
Shortest Entry?
New jacket to wear at the bar as you don't want to give me an excuse to start streaking through all the Dales pubs again.
New jacket to wear at the bar as you don't want to give me an excuse to start streaking through all the Dales pubs again.
Iris in the Dark
New member
I had read about them, I longed to see them and to feel their polished form. But they lay deep underground. Trapped for millennia, swirling in the dark waters of the cave
The wind tugged on us as we trudged across the French mountain-side laden with rope. Spring was barely here and snow still lay in beds and higher up was extensive. The entrance was surprisingly square and from the traverse line snow could be seen deep below at the foot of the shaft.. The cave breathed warm air and it was welcome shelter to be on the rope and descending the entrance pitch.
The main streamway ran in a high rift, a series of intersecting swirl holes carved in the mountain limestone. The water dark and slightly organic. It was here that I found the minerals, trapped by their own weight and too heavy to escape the deep scour holes. Polished and smoothed by years of tumbling in the flow of the stream. Hematite, Cassiterite and perhaps manganese. Ochres, reds, gleaming black and cobalts in the white light of my LEDs. I crouched in the pools, plunging my arm into the gravels. Dredging handfuls of mineral, tumbling them wet from hand to hand watching them gleam. A gravel beach lay on the edge of a larger part of the passage and I greedily knelt amidst the mineral shingle. I had brought a bag, tucked in the breast pocket of my over suit. I wanted to look at these minerals in the sunlight they had never seen. But somehow I felt that they had been here too long and that I was too temporary to remove them. My friends's patience grew thin and I had to leave without a further glance. At the foot of the pitches we stood steaming in the gentle spray. My under-suit was soaked and I asked to climb first.
I concentrated fiercely. Rope-work was not my forte but I was glad to be moving. I struggled at a hanging rebelay where, sprayed from above, I fought with my chest ascender. Impatient shouts from below spurred me on and the team slowly moved up, calls echoing up the shaft through the spray.
I reached the top unexpectedly. Gloomy light filtered down the shaft and evening had fallen. The stars were visible but a bitter wind cut across the mountain. Safe on the traverse line I shouted my free and followed the rope to where it was tied around a pine set back from the entrance. Here I sheltered, back to the gale, warm from the climb. It seemed an age, hunched behind that trunk, and my teeth chattered, my undersuit now soaked with sweat and cave water. The wind roared through the scattered pines on the hillside and I clenched and unclenched my fingers to keep warm. Now and again I saw their lights and heard shouting. Were they calling me? I didn't think so. I thought of those minerals and idly wondered about their age. My mind swam. Had they been there for ever? Suddenly my friends were were both there. Dave seemed cross with me about something. Clad in goretex he stood too close to me shouting and swearing. Andy was madly stuffing ropes and then he pulled on his coat, wet sleves snagging as the wind flapped the fabric. Dave was pulling a merino balaclava down onto my head and heaving me reluctantly me to my feet. One either side they griped my arms and propelled me down the mountain towards the cars. . Oh for a mountain equipment jacket.
The wind tugged on us as we trudged across the French mountain-side laden with rope. Spring was barely here and snow still lay in beds and higher up was extensive. The entrance was surprisingly square and from the traverse line snow could be seen deep below at the foot of the shaft.. The cave breathed warm air and it was welcome shelter to be on the rope and descending the entrance pitch.
The main streamway ran in a high rift, a series of intersecting swirl holes carved in the mountain limestone. The water dark and slightly organic. It was here that I found the minerals, trapped by their own weight and too heavy to escape the deep scour holes. Polished and smoothed by years of tumbling in the flow of the stream. Hematite, Cassiterite and perhaps manganese. Ochres, reds, gleaming black and cobalts in the white light of my LEDs. I crouched in the pools, plunging my arm into the gravels. Dredging handfuls of mineral, tumbling them wet from hand to hand watching them gleam. A gravel beach lay on the edge of a larger part of the passage and I greedily knelt amidst the mineral shingle. I had brought a bag, tucked in the breast pocket of my over suit. I wanted to look at these minerals in the sunlight they had never seen. But somehow I felt that they had been here too long and that I was too temporary to remove them. My friends's patience grew thin and I had to leave without a further glance. At the foot of the pitches we stood steaming in the gentle spray. My under-suit was soaked and I asked to climb first.
I concentrated fiercely. Rope-work was not my forte but I was glad to be moving. I struggled at a hanging rebelay where, sprayed from above, I fought with my chest ascender. Impatient shouts from below spurred me on and the team slowly moved up, calls echoing up the shaft through the spray.
I reached the top unexpectedly. Gloomy light filtered down the shaft and evening had fallen. The stars were visible but a bitter wind cut across the mountain. Safe on the traverse line I shouted my free and followed the rope to where it was tied around a pine set back from the entrance. Here I sheltered, back to the gale, warm from the climb. It seemed an age, hunched behind that trunk, and my teeth chattered, my undersuit now soaked with sweat and cave water. The wind roared through the scattered pines on the hillside and I clenched and unclenched my fingers to keep warm. Now and again I saw their lights and heard shouting. Were they calling me? I didn't think so. I thought of those minerals and idly wondered about their age. My mind swam. Had they been there for ever? Suddenly my friends were were both there. Dave seemed cross with me about something. Clad in goretex he stood too close to me shouting and swearing. Andy was madly stuffing ropes and then he pulled on his coat, wet sleves snagging as the wind flapped the fabric. Dave was pulling a merino balaclava down onto my head and heaving me reluctantly me to my feet. One either side they griped my arms and propelled me down the mountain towards the cars. . Oh for a mountain equipment jacket.
Over the Hill
New member
Iris in the Dark said:
FFS
PeteHall
Moderator
With a few free hours at work before I can go home/ caving for the long weekend, one particular changing tale springs to mind...
I probably deserve disqualifying, as this tale relates to a mine not a cave
It was one of those beautiful, but freezing winter days up in the Weardale, snow on the ground, but sun shining, so after taking a few photographs, the pre-trip change was remarkably pleasant; once inside the mine however, that all changed...
The level entrance had been bulldozed in when the mine closed in the 90's, but a narrow hole through the top has since been dug by cavers. Despite the "warm" underground air, we had to smash our way through the icicles to get in, to be immediately submerged in the chest deep freezing water behind the entrance plug. We were poor students at the time and hadn't saved up enough for wet-suits by then, so it was particularly unpleasant, but being a mine (and dug on a slight uphill angle), the water got gradually shallower as we entered and by 500m in, we were in ankle deep water.
The trip was largely uneventful, save for the misery of the gradually deepening water on the way out!
By the time we reached the exit, it was dark and a bit of a blizzard had set in. Freezing cold and soaking wet, we made our way back to the car and proceeded to strip off our wet gear. With our bare feet were sticking to the frozen road surface and our naked bodies battered by driving wind and sleet, out of nowhere headlights appeared down the road.
Just typical we joked "as soon as your naked, someone will show up" and thought nothing of it until about 5 minutes later as we clambered into the car, blue lights appeared from the other direction!
Yes it was the police! Responding to reports of "suspicious activity".
How they got there so quick (and why the bothered) remains a mystery, but we are probably among the few people who have been done for indecent exposure, while suffering from actual exposure!
A nice new jacket wouldn't help prevent further breaches of the law, but it would help warm up afterwards.
I probably deserve disqualifying, as this tale relates to a mine not a cave
It was one of those beautiful, but freezing winter days up in the Weardale, snow on the ground, but sun shining, so after taking a few photographs, the pre-trip change was remarkably pleasant; once inside the mine however, that all changed...
The level entrance had been bulldozed in when the mine closed in the 90's, but a narrow hole through the top has since been dug by cavers. Despite the "warm" underground air, we had to smash our way through the icicles to get in, to be immediately submerged in the chest deep freezing water behind the entrance plug. We were poor students at the time and hadn't saved up enough for wet-suits by then, so it was particularly unpleasant, but being a mine (and dug on a slight uphill angle), the water got gradually shallower as we entered and by 500m in, we were in ankle deep water.
The trip was largely uneventful, save for the misery of the gradually deepening water on the way out!
By the time we reached the exit, it was dark and a bit of a blizzard had set in. Freezing cold and soaking wet, we made our way back to the car and proceeded to strip off our wet gear. With our bare feet were sticking to the frozen road surface and our naked bodies battered by driving wind and sleet, out of nowhere headlights appeared down the road.
Just typical we joked "as soon as your naked, someone will show up" and thought nothing of it until about 5 minutes later as we clambered into the car, blue lights appeared from the other direction!
Yes it was the police! Responding to reports of "suspicious activity".
How they got there so quick (and why the bothered) remains a mystery, but we are probably among the few people who have been done for indecent exposure, while suffering from actual exposure!
A nice new jacket wouldn't help prevent further breaches of the law, but it would help warm up afterwards.
Roger W
Well-known member
The deadline is fast approaching...
I was sitting chatting to my old mate Sid the other day ? he of the reverse Mohican haircut ? and happened to mention the Goretex jacket being offered as a prize on the forum.
?Ah,? he said, ?there was a time I could have done with one of them!?
?When was that?? I asked.
?A few years ago,? he said, ?when a few of us were poking about in southwest Yunnan. There were some native tales of a place where this river flowed out of a rock, and we were trying to find it. The native tales said it was the abode of unspeakable demons, of course, but we didn?t let that put us off...?
?So did you find anything?? I asked.
?Eventually,? he said. ?We hiked for days through thick jungle, along trails which went uphill and downhill again in the most exhausting way. And it was hot ? 30 degrees plus, with the humidity about 98 percent. The perspiration was just running off me, trickling down my legs and sloshing about in my boots. And the insects...?
He paused for a moment, savouring the memory of those insects. Eventually he went on:
?We came to the place in the end ? a little low entrance among a jumble of boulders, with a small stream flowing out of it. In those conditions, there was no question of oversuits or anything like that, of course ? we just went in as we were in shorts and T-shirts, with our helmets and lamps. It was delightfully cool inside, a low passage that opened up to walking height, with the stream just over our ankles... No, no demons. No bats, no spiders, just cool dark passage. And then, after twenty yards or so, a boulder choke that the water could get through but we couldn?t. There was nothing else to do but turn back. Back into the heat and the humidity and the perspiration...
?The other lads headed off out, and as I was following I noticed something glinting in the stream. It was the last thing you?d expect to find in a place like that ? an old carbide lamp! Goodness knows where it had come from or how long it had been there. I picked it up and gave it a quick wipe on my T-shirt to see if there was a name or anything on it.?
?And was there?? I asked.
?I don?t know,? he said. ?Because there was a flash and a sort of pop and there was this genie hovering there in front of me.
? ?Greetings, O Master,? he said. ?Your wish is my command.?
? ?Good grief!? I said. ?A magic lamp! Do I get three wishes??
? ?Alas, no, O Master,? replied the genie. ?I?m only a carbide lamp genie. For three wishes you would need at least a Scurion genie. I?m afraid I can only manage one wish.??
?What did you wish for?? I asked.
?I wished,? said Sid, ?I wished that it would be nice and cool when I got out of the cave. I just couldn?t bear the thought of trailing back through the jungle in all that heat and humidity. So I said, ?Can you make it nice and cool for me when I get out of this cave??
? ?I can?t do anything about the climate here,? said the genie. ?You?d need a Roy Fellows lamp genie to do that. But I?ll do what I can...? And with another flash and a pop he was gone.
?And then there was an almighty clap of thunder that I thought was going to bring the roof of the cave down. I dropped the lamp and made a dive for the exit. When I got out into the open air, I found myself in the middle if a tropical hailstorm. Wading through hailstones over my ankles, being pelted with a freezing deluge of ice, and wearing only a dripping wet T-shirt and shorts!
?I could have done with one of those jackets then!?
Not that I'd believe a word of any of the stories that ol' Sid has to tell...
I was sitting chatting to my old mate Sid the other day ? he of the reverse Mohican haircut ? and happened to mention the Goretex jacket being offered as a prize on the forum.
?Ah,? he said, ?there was a time I could have done with one of them!?
?When was that?? I asked.
?A few years ago,? he said, ?when a few of us were poking about in southwest Yunnan. There were some native tales of a place where this river flowed out of a rock, and we were trying to find it. The native tales said it was the abode of unspeakable demons, of course, but we didn?t let that put us off...?
?So did you find anything?? I asked.
?Eventually,? he said. ?We hiked for days through thick jungle, along trails which went uphill and downhill again in the most exhausting way. And it was hot ? 30 degrees plus, with the humidity about 98 percent. The perspiration was just running off me, trickling down my legs and sloshing about in my boots. And the insects...?
He paused for a moment, savouring the memory of those insects. Eventually he went on:
?We came to the place in the end ? a little low entrance among a jumble of boulders, with a small stream flowing out of it. In those conditions, there was no question of oversuits or anything like that, of course ? we just went in as we were in shorts and T-shirts, with our helmets and lamps. It was delightfully cool inside, a low passage that opened up to walking height, with the stream just over our ankles... No, no demons. No bats, no spiders, just cool dark passage. And then, after twenty yards or so, a boulder choke that the water could get through but we couldn?t. There was nothing else to do but turn back. Back into the heat and the humidity and the perspiration...
?The other lads headed off out, and as I was following I noticed something glinting in the stream. It was the last thing you?d expect to find in a place like that ? an old carbide lamp! Goodness knows where it had come from or how long it had been there. I picked it up and gave it a quick wipe on my T-shirt to see if there was a name or anything on it.?
?And was there?? I asked.
?I don?t know,? he said. ?Because there was a flash and a sort of pop and there was this genie hovering there in front of me.
? ?Greetings, O Master,? he said. ?Your wish is my command.?
? ?Good grief!? I said. ?A magic lamp! Do I get three wishes??
? ?Alas, no, O Master,? replied the genie. ?I?m only a carbide lamp genie. For three wishes you would need at least a Scurion genie. I?m afraid I can only manage one wish.??
?What did you wish for?? I asked.
?I wished,? said Sid, ?I wished that it would be nice and cool when I got out of the cave. I just couldn?t bear the thought of trailing back through the jungle in all that heat and humidity. So I said, ?Can you make it nice and cool for me when I get out of this cave??
? ?I can?t do anything about the climate here,? said the genie. ?You?d need a Roy Fellows lamp genie to do that. But I?ll do what I can...? And with another flash and a pop he was gone.
?And then there was an almighty clap of thunder that I thought was going to bring the roof of the cave down. I dropped the lamp and made a dive for the exit. When I got out into the open air, I found myself in the middle if a tropical hailstorm. Wading through hailstones over my ankles, being pelted with a freezing deluge of ice, and wearing only a dripping wet T-shirt and shorts!
?I could have done with one of those jackets then!?
Not that I'd believe a word of any of the stories that ol' Sid has to tell...
Alex
Well-known member
Only just spotted this so this is obviously too late for the competition, the below would not had won anyway, as I did not put a towel on my head. I did once put my boxers on my head mistakening them for my a hood of the same colour, but that is a different storey....
This is one of a little personal win, over the winter weather.
It was a seriously cold Friday night, we fancied a quick pleasant trip before the main entertainment of the weekend, forgetting it was winter of course so the word pleasant does not actually come into it. We decided on a Simpsons pull through, with a quick trip into valley to pre-rig the pitch.
By the time I had kitted up my hands had stopped working, but thankfully underground I gradually regained feeling. However, we were soon back outside again and on the cold march up the hill. No matter how fast we walked we could not generate enough body heat to counteract the wind-chill in the horizontal blizzard. I certainly was not looking forward to getting changed afterwards.
Thankfully the trip itself was fine and everyone rushed to the cars to get changed. It was like being in the middle of the arctic, there was no chance my hands were going to stay warm enough to even undo me D-ring. I had been thinking about my strategy for getting changed not all the way through the trip so by the time I got to the bottom I had hatched a plan. Upon exiting into a white-out, we quickly located the cars. So immediately before I could loose too much body heat I opened the boot, grabbed my gear and buggered off back into Valley entrance. Call me a wimp but while the others struggled in -20 wind chill I had one of the most pleasant changes all winter, highly recommended. Why no one followed, who knows? I had told them my plan, perhaps you do get a little dirty, but it was worth it.
Most of the time I have to grim and bear it but not this time winter, not this time.
This is one of a little personal win, over the winter weather.
It was a seriously cold Friday night, we fancied a quick pleasant trip before the main entertainment of the weekend, forgetting it was winter of course so the word pleasant does not actually come into it. We decided on a Simpsons pull through, with a quick trip into valley to pre-rig the pitch.
By the time I had kitted up my hands had stopped working, but thankfully underground I gradually regained feeling. However, we were soon back outside again and on the cold march up the hill. No matter how fast we walked we could not generate enough body heat to counteract the wind-chill in the horizontal blizzard. I certainly was not looking forward to getting changed afterwards.
Thankfully the trip itself was fine and everyone rushed to the cars to get changed. It was like being in the middle of the arctic, there was no chance my hands were going to stay warm enough to even undo me D-ring. I had been thinking about my strategy for getting changed not all the way through the trip so by the time I got to the bottom I had hatched a plan. Upon exiting into a white-out, we quickly located the cars. So immediately before I could loose too much body heat I opened the boot, grabbed my gear and buggered off back into Valley entrance. Call me a wimp but while the others struggled in -20 wind chill I had one of the most pleasant changes all winter, highly recommended. Why no one followed, who knows? I had told them my plan, perhaps you do get a little dirty, but it was worth it.
Most of the time I have to grim and bear it but not this time winter, not this time.
Hey, I've done the same thing but in Lost Johns. I even took my clothes in with me and hung them up about 20ft in - not a bad place to change and tons warmer. Sometimes getting changed in winter at places like Leck seems a life and death struggle, and, oh god, its on it's way again.
