Win a Rab Ascent 500 Down Sleeping Bag - RRP £300!

[Pegasus]

WIN WITH UKC – Tell us your ‘sleeping’ tale!

Last but certainly not least! The fifth of the Inglesport fabulous Five is a Rab Ascent 500 Down Sleeping Bag - RRP £300!
https://www.inglesport.com/product/rab-ascent-500-down-sleeping-bag/

The Ascent 500 is a versatile bag with a comfortable, wide mummy fit. Filled with 500g of 650FP goose down and with space for wearing additional layers if needed, this bag can be used in cool temperatures. Ideal for two season use and spring conditions.

The women’s specific shape is slightly shorter in length, narrower at the shoulders, and wider at the hips than the regular fit bag for improved efficiency. The Ascent is built with a lightweight and durable, recycled Pertex® Quantum outer fabric and recycled nylon lining. It has trapezoid shaped, boxwall baffles that stack neatly together, encouraging the hydrophobic duck down inside to loft fully and reducing the appearance of cold spots. Hand-filled in the UK, all our down bags benefit from never having had their down compressed before use, maintaining the down’s loft and warmth.

The generous mummy fit with wide foot box provide a spacious feel for an easy night’s sleep, and the close-fitting neck baffle keeps the heat in when the temperature drops. It has a ¾ length main zip with a down filled baffle to keep out the draught.

Practicalities are taken care of with an internal zipped stash pocket that easily fits a phone or a headlamp, a cotton storage sack and a compression stuff sack to ensure a manageable pack size and protection on the road.

RDS Certified Down

The Responsible Down Standard independently certifies down against animal welfare requirements and tracks it from the source to the final product.

The winner gets to choose womens/mens and their preferred zip from Inglesport stock – though that gives an excellent choice as Inglesport are one of the premier independent Rab stockists in the UK with a wide range available both online and instore – and all competitively priced

Obviously (hopefully!) this isn't going to be used underground, however some lucky winner will be kept snug when camping.

To enter, simply post your tale/photo on the subject of sleeping and caving (before/after/during, both home and abroad).

Entries to the Fabulous Five competitions have been wonderfully varied so far so once again it’s a wide brief - anything to do with sleeping/caving qualifies! Photos welcome; they often say it best.

2 entries per person.

Closing time/date 10pm, Thurs 31st July. Shortlist to be chosen by me, then over to random.org.

GOOD LUCK!

Many thanks to Inglesport and Rab for supporting the forum with this fabulous prize!

https://www.inglesport.com/about-us/

Inglesport has been trading as a specialist outdoor equipment supplier since 1977.

Although the business began primarily as a caving equipment supplier, we now stock a vast range of products, including Work & Rescue equipment, climbing equipment, walking & camping gear and outdoor clothing.

Our shop, located in the village of Ingleton, North Yorkshire is ideally situated for both cavers and walkers to pop in and browse through our large selection of products.

All our staff are experienced, active outdoor enthusiasts, so you get up-to-the-minute advice on the latest and best gear and equipment for your needs.

https://rab.equipment/uk/our-story

‘Our story began in 1981 in the attic of a small, terraced house in Sheffield where Rab Carrington made the first sleeping bag to bear his name. Hand-stitched and devised with his own ingenious eye, his designs were crafted with years of mountain experience, and soon there was popular demand both from friends and the growing local climbing (and caving!) community’.

T&Cs - This competition is in collaboration with Rab and Inglesport. Prize cannot be exchanged for cash. Rab & Inglesport reserve the right to change the product prize depending on stock availability. Winners must live in UK.​

 

[skippy]

Starter for 10.
This shot was taken just before bedding down at C1 in the Berger. This was after a long, hard rigging trip to the bottom(almost).Despite the trip being a good few years ago, several things still stick in my memory from this kip.
Firstly, its one of the few times I've slept for 12 hours straight.
I still recall a dream about John lennon, alive and well and living in Ilkley.
Only two things awakened me during my Princess Aurora style slumber. The sound of water levels rising and falling from outside the bivi.. But, best of all was the the loudest, most prolonged nocturnal fart I've ever emitted! To the point it woke me and the others up. I could have swore it reverberated down the chamber, rattled around the Hall of 13 and echoed back! That one will live in my memory for ever and its a tale I dine out on whenever I'm in impolite company .
Thankfully, the general smell in C1 masked any personal odours.

 

[teabag]

Not an exciting, daring caving story I'm afraid, but caving was the purpose of the weekend. My usual group of caving friends had invited us along to Lowstern back in 2013. However, some of them are very averse to my husband's loud snoring so we were banished to our tent in the grounds at bedtime. The most beautiful soft mossy grass under us, hardly needed a mat. Earplugs in I got the best night's sleep. Sadly, my brother also in the party also snores. Less sleep for those indoors (except the brother of course) but still had a great time at White Scar and at Upper and Lower Long Churn over the weekend

 

[Cave_Troll]

I seem to remember someone from my club down the Berger was thrown out of the "snug" at camp as he'd chosed to take a blizzard bag to sleep in.
While excelent, warm and lightweight they made a loud rustling every time they moved while in it.

Not expecting this to win anything but wondering if he wants to correct my memory

 

[langcliffe]

It had been a hard overnight trip, exploring and surveying Far Waters in Gaping Gill, and I was knackered. Totally knackered. Three times Mel Gascoyne had to kick me awake as we made our way out of Disappointment Pot, once when I was precariously close to a pitch head. We eventually reached daylight about 8:00 am to be greeted by a perfect summer morning. Whilst the others made their way back to Clapdale, I curled up on the moor above the entrance, and had a glorious four hours kip in the sunshine before joining them. Happy days!

 

[Badlad]

When the going gets tough. The tough have a snooze. Deadmans handshake legend Geoff Yeadon on Dowlass Moss.

 

[caving_fox]

Whilst I've never had a full night's sleep underground I frequently have a nap in a cave, I find the atmosphere pleasantly soothing, and providing one can get out of any spray and draughts quite comfortable. Sometimes there's a particularly grotty extension someone wants to explore, or perhaps a navigational query means a pause while options and investigated and confirmed. Light off, find a spot and take a few minutes pause.

The most frequent occurrence is of course on SRT trips where there is always a degree of delay. I'm often the de-rigger and last one up. We'd had several newer members join the club, and so SRT took some time as they developed experience. No rush, take your time, be safe, I said, I'll wait here and de-rig on the way out. A perfect opportunity for a good 20 min nap. (And no I didn't fall so asleep as to miss the 'rope free' shout, although it might happen one day!). It was only many years later that the now fully experienced member confided on how aggrieved this had made them feel. There was I, not much older than them, going to sleep! They were trying their best and he's just lying there! We have a good laugh over it now.

 

[Logismos]

The best nights sleep I've ever had underground was in Alex Reid's expedition camping setup, and it was still a crap nights sleep.
With classic German efficiency, he'd personally adapted a box tent into the dream setup: replacing the roof with ripstop nylon, two cut-to-size layers of insulation on the floor, a custom alcohol stove, and fairy lights for supreme ambience. I was warm, dry, and comfy - but that didn't stop my brain from interpreting the caves sounds as everything imaginable. Water whispers I've heard many times before, but my sleep-addled brain made it a magnitude worse.
I distinctly remember a whole party of cavers approaching from afar, chatting about their lives and the caverns fine features. They noticed the tent and approached, splashing through a pool to investigate, getting closer and closer... reaching out to investigate... until I shot awake and scared the shit out of Alex.

 

[Lankyman]

To Love and to Lose (a bag's tale)
One of my many weaknesses is sentimentality which often means I find it hard to let go and move on. This means I struggle to retire kit which is no longer fit for purpose but which holds many memories. What follows is a true tale set in exotic locations with great political drama and cats.

It was 1981 and Charles and Diana had just got married as three of us set off from Edale northwards along the Pennine Way. In the bottom of my rucksack was a brand new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. I'd already been caving for several years and caved a bit in Slovenia but the first trip abroad for the Hollofil wonder bag was an expedition to Montenegro in 1986 during which we managed to get down their deepest cave in the Durmitor National Park. No underground camping was required but we did have to talk ourselves out of a Montenegrin police cell. It was on a Turkish expedition a few years later in the hills behind Antalya that the first issue cropped up. Most of the time in Turkey I slept in the bag in the open just on a plastic sheet (I was much less soft back then). As well as finding a six hundred foot deep shaft I noticed some small stones had managed to work themselves inside the material of the bag. No worries, as long as I positioned my body carefully it wasn't that much of an annoyance. The nineties dawned and the faithful bag found itself on a donkey being carried up to the Kyrktau Plateau of Uzbekistan in a largely fruitless search for new caves. The Soviet Union collapsed not long after but my bag and I escaped unscathed.

Time moves on and technology changes. An interest in Munro bagging and backpacking meant a new pit on the block was required, something lighter and so the Snugpak was bought. The old bag wasn't forgotten, it was still better for colder camps although the cat preferred the Snugpak.

The ravages of time cannot be ignored. We're all destined for the dustbin of history and so we get to 2023 and gaffer tape can no longer come to the rescue. Decades of service and fidgeting cats have left my faithful bag mortally wounded. It's hard to let go but the inevitable end in a Wyre Borough Council bin bag seems inevitable.

There is just one thing left to do though. After all this time I had to find out what it was that had worked its way into the innards of my pit those many years previous. A few snips with the scissors (the bag felt no pain I can assure you) and out came the culprits.

Perhaps just a few worn chips of Turkish hillside to you but half a lifetime of memories to me.

 

[tim.rose2]

I'm not overly convinced I'm always getting 100 % from the digging team...

 

[JAshley73]

(And no I didn't fall so asleep as to miss the 'rope free' shout, although it might happen one day!).

"Hey mates, if I doze off too long, just drop a rock down to wake me up. Preferably a small one..."

 

[JAshley73]

During a mock-rescue training course last fall, I attempted to snooze whilst waiting on the stretcher to be brought up. If not for the two chatty-Cathys having the most annoying, ridiculous, long-winded conversation, I might have been able to enjoy a 30 minute nap. As it were however, the two nincompoops brought me within a razors edge from jumping up and shouting at them "For the love of God, would you two shut the F--- up!?!"

Alas, the stretcher showed up soon, and probably helped avoid a rather unnecessary confrontation.



Photos taken in "Floyd Collins Crystal Cave" - a previous show cave owned by the Collins family, now owned by, and part of the Mammoth Cave National Park [system.] The infamous Floyd Collins' was one of the first high-profile cave deaths, after being trapped for nearly 15? days.

(Edit: Being outside the UK, I'd like to request that I be exempt from the contest in the interest of fairness.)

 

[steviet_scg]

This was sometime ago ...

On our way to the Dales Richard and I decided to call in to Skipton to see my old friend Simon. Just a pint and a catch-up. How we ended up in Skipton's finest answer to a nightclub - "After Dark" remains a mystery as did whatever it was I ended up drinking. I woke mid-morning - my digestive system had apparently stopped functioning and my head felt like I'd been hit by a cricket bat.

Two gallons of tea later and we reasoned - whilst anything serious was beyond us doing a Sunday cave on a Saturday was tantamount to getting in the armchair. The answer - as always - was Easegill. In County - tootle along the high level for a bit; then off back out of WRP.

My head was still thumping when we arrived at County - the dark and cool air was sooo nice - by the time we reached Eureka Junction I felt human. And then the noise of moving water, the scrapping of oversuit on rock and the mindfulness of movement started to give way to a peaceful plod. We reached the Minarets. "Ah, I'd forgotten how nice this passage is" said Richard, "Let's have a minute". We sat down and turned off our lamps - within a minute all that could be heard was Richard's gentle snoring. I stretched out and instantly joined him in what was probably the best, restorative power nap I've ever had.

I have no idea how long we were out - it would have been a lot longer were it not for some other passing cavers - who were trying their very best not to wake us as the strode over us!

 

[me]

The Otter Hole filming project had ever evolving pieces of technology to improve the quality of the finished result. It started with a Lego mount and fishing reel to move a small camera and ended up with a remote controlled gimble.

The cameras also changed several times amongst the crew. This caused problems with the colour balance even when they used the same make and model of camera.

It was decided that a test was needed to sort the problem. A day was set for them all to be underground, lined up filming the same thing, me, walking backwards and forwards in front of them.

We were all travelling some distance, so we met up the evening before for a very nice hotel dinner. Many discussions were had, what we had been up to recently, what we thought the problem was and then it got round to … which room we were in and the view we had. I kept quiet but the inevitable question arose …

Well, being a bit of a ‘cheapskate’ and not wanting to pay around £100 for possibly 8 hours in a room (it was dark, so no view anyway.) I said my goodbyes and if I wasn’t at the designated entrance at 9.00, they could find me in my hammock, probably having overslept snuggled in my lovely Rab sleeping bag, (It’s now over 15 yrs old, I need a new one) in the old mine just down the road.

 

[Pegasus]

Bump......

Folks, I realise some may not need a down sleeping bag, however please dont let that put you off entering because there are plenty of cavers who would love to have one - and you could donate your prize should you win!

 

[Samouse1]

My only time camping underground was out in Austria on expedition. Pushing Homecoming caving, specifically the Watershed series. I hadn't been down this section before, but I had been told that a suitable campsite had been found. So off we set, with a tent, sleeping bags and food, into the depths of the Loser Plateau.

A few hours of hard caving later we reached the campsite, in a rocky aven, and started finding a spot to pitch the tent. It was evident within about 30 seconds that "suitable" just meant "slightly better than the rest of the cave". It needed gardening, was a little bit drippy, and didn't have a big enough footprint to put up the fly. Nevertheless we set up the tent as best we could, and headed towards the pushing front, another hour or so down a pitch series.

We reached the front, a short looking pitch, and Chi started bolting to get us down. The three others of us got the rest of the expedition kit ready, preparing the surveying kit. I pulled the Disto out, only to find it in calibration mode. Bollocks. Some discussion was had, and we didn't at the time know that there is a button combination to get it back to normal.

We decided to scoop a little (don't hunt us down, it was demoralizing and it would speed up the next group by rigging the pitches). After another hour two of us decided to just go to bed, it was almost midnight by that point. So back we went.

Cooking up some pasta was incredible, and then getting the sleeping bags and mats out, we called dibs on the best pits, as the other two had been the ones who sold us the vision of subterranean utopia of somnolence. Turning in, I found it amazingly easy to fall asleep, the complete lack of light making it quite peaceful the drips from the aven lulling me to sleep.

At around 2 in the morning the other two got back to tell us they had killed the lead by reaching a duck. All that effort....

I woke up the next morning, quite cold. It turns out I hadn't picked the best spot at all, the wall of the tent was touching the wall of the aven, and water had wicked through to soak my poor sleeping bag and, of course, me! Oh well, I wasn't too cold, and I looked at my watch to find it was 9:30. We were all stirring a little, and it turned out that poor Harry had ended up with the shortest straw, as the opposite side of the tent was a little deformed by a boulder, which he had ended up spooning all night. Chi and Aila, in the middle, had had a very cozy night.

We eventually decided that it was probably a good idea to leave our little cocoon of relative warmth and get back to the surface. So the camp was stricken and off we went, a lead killed, and no survey data to show for it. But at least I got to experience camping hundreds of meters underground!

 

[nobrotson]

I've had the misfortune to camp underground (deliberately and not) multiple times over my years of caving. The first time was in King Pot in December 2013 and was definitely unplanned. I was a fresh-faced 18 year old who was far too keen to go underground whenever possible to think about the possible implications for myself and others. After grabbing a group shelter from the boot of a Peachey's car as something of an afterthought, we set off underground at around 3pm in the midst of a big rainstorm which had already been saturating the ground for several days. I was extremely hungover and didn't really notice that the SRT we were doing was quite a bit wetter than anything I had encountered since joining ULSA and starting out with SRT in September that year. After some hours, we reached the bottom of Elizabeth pitch (without rigging the deviation) and scampered over Jane's pitch, only to find a brown lake lapping at our feet, completely sumping the crawl which leads to the downstream sump. It was at this point that we realised we had probably done something quite stupid and decided to try and leave before it all got worse.

We attempted to ascend Elizabeth, however after getting partway up myself and Matt decided that carrying on up was probably not wise (I remember both of us somehow getting partway up, which sounds really quite implausible and stupid in hindsight) and retreated to await help inside the group shelter on the shores of the brown lake on the wrong side of Jane's pitch. And so commenced some really quite cold and miserable hours of my life, not helped by my contact lens being full of grit (I've never really worn contacts since). At some point the next day, Peachey the Hero arrived in shining AV (shining with moisture) with Mars bars to coax us out of the cave, with CRO following close behind. It took me almost 10 years to return to King Pot afterwards, and I'm continually astonished at how we fucked it up so badly. I'm extremely glad that Matt decided to take the group shelter; without that the situation we were in would have been pretty different (life-threatening). I like to think I learned from the experience, though it didn't stop me from fucking up in a similar but possibly even more avoidable and stupid way in Aggy with Peachey a few months later...

Despite my unforeseen and uncomfortable introduction to camping underground, I was soon to learn (on expedition in the Picos in 2014) that the experience of camping underground intentionally is also best avoided if at all possible. It is terribly humid (and cold if in the Alps), pooing is a massive chore rather than an experience to look forward to in the morning and access to vegetables is highly limited. It is generally only done if the motive of pushing further and deeper into big caves necessitates it. However, by far the most comfortable underground campsite I've ever stayed at, in Fischgesichthöhle on the Loser Plateau in Austria, was established only partly for this reason, being only about 2 hours caving away from the surface. The main motivation was to access a reliable drinking water supply, as the drought of 2022 meant that our surface rainwater collection system ran totally dry. Even in the drought conditions, it was possible to fill a 10L Daren drum from the stream close to camp in a matter of seconds as opposed to the minutes or hours that are sometimes needed under dripwater – sheer luxury! The camp also features an excellent cooking shelf, and an excellent sandy floor to sleep on (though inclined at around 20°).

Furthermore, the dry nature of the sleeping passage here means that, contrary to what Pegasus says about not taking down sleeping bags underground, I have in fact used my Rab Ascent 700 in Fischgesichthöhle several times (in a bivy bag) and it has remained in pristine working order. The Ascent 500 on offer here probably isn't warm enough for alpine cave camping sadly, but would do fine in South Wales or somewhere with a similar ambient temperature.

A morning at Camp in Fischgesichthöhle. First, wake up, though preferably after Becka has already been awkwardly prowling around for 40 minutes waiting for you to pay heed to your alarm. Take some more time in bed to admire your camp crocs, if you have them, then eventually spring into action to brew the coffee (we only accept freshly ground at this camp). Once you have fulfilled your caffeine needs, tend to your other needs and pack them away carefully in the appropriate drum. Luke was very proud of how small his was on this occasion.

There was one time on Loser that fate conspired to ensure I kipped underground in a deliberate and unplanned fashion in one fell swoop. This was in 2016 in Tunnockschacht. We'd had a fantastic trip exploring below Kraken, which is an incredible bit of cave (albeit muddy), and on this occasion we found one of the most impressive passages I've seen anywhere. Chris and I were awestruck when we popped our heads up through a gap in some boulders to see an absolutely huge passage, at least 15x20m width for height, and ramping steeply down at around 45° with a large streamway among the boulders in the floor. This much water in a passage in Austria is unusual, and led Chris to call it the 'mastercave'; pushing in later years found it led to a single massive chamber, 'Big Lad', which has never been explored fully.

Reasonably sophisticated underground quarters at Camp Kraken.

'Song of the Earth' in Tunnockschacht (Denshams "real" mastercave).

After surveying the passage the next day, we began our journey out, and all was uneventful until we reached what had proved to be a particularly problematic piece of cave to previous trips, a pitch called Procrastination which is 90 m high and split into two drops. The latter had been rigged in such a way as to coincide with a huge funnel of water pouring onto one's head in the event of a flood pulse. Rain had been forecast for the trip down, so I started to ascend the pitch with some trepidation. As I approached the rebelay ledge splitting the pitch, I heard a very ominous rumble. In hindsight I probably could have made it, but I decided to beat a retreat and got a thorough soaking as I zipped back down to the bottom.

We then spent around 12 hours hunched over and feeling pretty bored in a group shelter before sneaking out to make it down the hill to the expo dinner the next evening. As it happened, two other teams had also been caught in the floods until late into the night before in another part of Tunnocks and in Balkonhohle. The multiple absences resulted in a call for the local rescue, with the resulting report attributing the incidents to 'Heavy Alarm Time Overflow' - should probably name some passage down there in homage if I ever go back...

A pretty tedious way to pass time instead of making merry at Gasthof Staudnwirt...

 

[Tricky Dicky]

For those who don’t know it, Eastwater Cavern on the Mendips is a dark, foreboding cave, with few formations. It’s generally tough going with lots of inclined passageway and some attribute the cave’s gloomy nature to the belief that it lies at the intersection of two or more ley lines.



One of the popular trips is an exchange trip descending via the twin verticals (SRT) and ascending via Dolphin Pot (ladder & line) or vice versa. It was on such a trip some 35 years ago that, having gone ahead to rig one of the routes I found myself alone in the vadose trench known as the canyon. Waiting for the other parties to reach me I made myself comfortable (or what passes as comfortable in Eastwater) and turned of my light. I was instantly overcome with the thought that if I turned my lamp back on again, I would find myself elsewhere, having been somehow transported by unknown forces. Rather than being scary, it felt somehow soothing and as I lay my head on an empty tackle bag I drifted off to sleep.

In my dreams I floated up above the cave and could look down on my slumbering form as my consciousness in spirit form seemed to float above the lush green pastures of the Mendip Hills. Moving swiftly I floated through a rocky gorge, skimming past the goats on the steep limestone rock faces, I was soaring as free as a bird, in the company of the rooks and crows. I started to circle the radio tower at the top of the Mendips, which for once wasn’t shrouded in cloud. Then I plunged in a rapidly accelerating flight and went down through the rock to my resting place in the cave.

Waking, incredibly refreshed I switched on my Oldhams cap lamp and soon could hear my fellow cavers approaching. One of the most exhilarating dreams that I’ve ever had!!!!

 

[Occasional Borderer]

One of the first few trips I was ever on (perhaps third or fourth?), we were snowed in at the farm, having abandoned the vehicle and walked the last half mile. The caving was all well and good, mess about a bit in the upper end of ease gill, and we were all out safely.
The other group there with us was not, and there was no sign of them, either at the hut or on the callout board.

Time went on, calls were eventually made, mild worries were had, truly horrific concoctions of monster and spirits were passed around, until a few people were passed out asleep face down over chairs from a caffeine crash, right as CRO's first response bursts in the back door and assumes some form of medical emergency, but we're calmed with Jaffa cakes and tea.

I got all of two hours sleep that night, turns out waiting till they were found took till later than 06:00, so I woke up to the sound of land rovers rolling back up the now snow-ploughed track. Took a lot of tea to get ready to go back underground on Sunday.

 

[Ali M]

One of the team asleep on Mount Bagpit, partway through a digging session.