Win a Rab Nebula Jacket worth ?160!!

[ian.p]

In February 2012 I co-ran a cave science weekend on Leck Fell. As part of the set up for this I had to install some dye detectors to check for background contamination ahead of the weekend in the Leck Beck head resurgence between Leck and Casterton fells. At the time I didn't own a car so I relied on trains and my bicycle for transport as I couldn't con anyone into driving me out.
As I cycled to the train station the chain on my bike snapped which I should have taken as an omen. Instead I pushed the bike to a cycle shop where i bought a replacement chain and continued on somewhat behind schedule...
I arrived in Clapham by late afternoon but by now the light was beginning to fade and the weather had turned to high winds and torrential rain. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor and that I was definitely going to miss the last train home anyway I bailed to Ingleton where Mike Bottomley and Steph Dwyer put me up for the night. The next day, determined to get the detectors in, I set off for Bull Pot Farm. It wasn't raining anymore but asIi nearly pedaled (pushed) my bike up the hill to the farm snow set in falling in big heavy flakes and gradually started to settle. On reaching the farm I abandoned my bike and set off on foot for the resurgence. When I reached the resurgence I realized I would have to get into the stream to place the detectors properly so I took my boots off and rolled up my trousers to the knee and lowered myself into the stream....the water came up to just above my knees and was more then a little refreshing. Having placed the detectors I began plodding back to the farm in my soaked and increasingly frozen trousers. I recovered my bike and began cycling for Clapham station, the way along the track to the farm made treacherous by a thin layer of snow which in combination with my poorly functioning brakes made for a hair raising descent of the fell. At valley level the snow wasn't settling on the road and I was able to pick up speed but every time a lorry passed me on the A65 i was pelted by a bow wave of freezing slush and was soon soaked to the skin.
By the time I reached Clapham train station I was shivering uncontrollably and well on my way to severe hypothermia. It was over an hour until the next train and I realized that I was in a reasonable amount of trouble. The station was deserted, my mobile had run out of battery and I had long since eaten my emergency supply of ginger nuts, fortunately I did have a sleeping bag with me as I was used to making a complete mess of this sort of endeavor so I realized there was nothing for it but to strip off to my pants and get into my sleeping bag in a bid to re warm myself.
Huddling in the corner of the station shelter I watched the clock trying to decide what was the minimum amount of time I could leave to get dressed before the train was due to arrive. The thought of missing the train due to a protracted battle to get my frozen trousers on in front of a train load of spectators didn't appeal and I eventually decided that 5 minutes was about survivable. I just about got my boots on when the train arrived and stumbled on board glad not to have suffered the indignity of freezing to death on Clapham train station of all places... 

 

[RTurnbull]

?The Verneau traverse is one of the longest and most strenuous in Europe??

We set off early, underground for 9:01. The walk to the cave was a minute long stumble though some nice French forest. At the bottom of the entrance pitches, we stopped by a pool to change into more neoprene. Despite everyone else having swiftly moved on into splashy passages, Holly, Noel and Nat began to cause a ruckus. After some bizarre sounds, Nat?s exclaims bellowed throughout the cave when he had the misfortune to drop his glasses into the pool of Holly?s piss.

Less than half an hour of thrutchy-rifty stuff followed, mostly with nice foot holds. Small climbs and dry passages leads to a long-awaited sump. After passing the bags through, a hesitant Holly dived a seven meter sump, only stopping when ploughing into the bank. Everyone else chose to come up for air once it was available, five metres prior. After a duck, the remaining sumps were bypassed.

The dry fossil passage gradually got bigger, getting into the large Salle du Petit Loup, where lunch was dispensed in the old bivouvac site, apparently recently cleaned up, removing the prophesied sleeping dummy. From here, the description suggests that you can hear the stream way ? we could not due to the lack of rainfall in the three weeks prior.

The classic stream way route was opted for, descending some short pitches on tatt, replacing a couple of ropes en-route. It ends in Puits de Jonction - the halfway marker, followed by a pitch into an out-of-depth pool, into which the group divided: the graceful and the not. The next 700m is laced with ?MAGNIFICENT STREAM WAY!? x100 (Nathanael Dalton, 2015) and a 20m awkward traverse.

The lakes were much drier than usual, but still allowed sufficient depth for drowning. A tackle bag full of rope with minimal inflatables means that you too can experience sub-aqua Verneau. In these situations it is best to keep your limbs very still to prevent your elbow-pads and wellies from sliding off and to keep quiet to prevent the rest of your group becoming annoyed at the delay in proceedings. I was, fortunately, saved by Ems, whilst everyone observed with giggles.

We stopped in a large roomy chamber to celebrate Em?s birthday with a spot of tea and cake. After a heart felt verse of ?Happy Birthday? and it?s translation into French, we decided to carry on caving to head off the cold.

In Salle de Bon Negre, Nat?s model career took off in a beautiful chamber with a circular collapse from the ceiling, releveling bright layers across the walls. Upon a boulder slope a rock arose, a poignant centrepiece for Jeff?s finest photography. Nat was made to pose on a said boulder, which transpired to be only eighty mm wide. The tyrants all photographers are meant Nat spent many a moment lunging and squatting on the rock, resulting in some outstanding photos by Jeff.

I initially couldn?t really be arsed, but a short bimble up a boulder ramp and a crawl from Salle Belauce through formation filled passages made the quirky find very worth it. The Tripod is perhaps not the most beautiful, but definitely an unusual formation which leaves you marvelling at how it would have formed.

The way on is fairly easy-going until Puit du Balot, ascending an 11m on rope whilst Nat emptied out his wellie water and other undisclosed liquids onto the unexpecting Ems. Holly coiled away a dangerously rickety ladder and screams emerged up the pitch as she rung a dead frog up within the ladder. The sorry evidence was later buried in shame.

Here lay the Galerie des Plaquettes, an excellent fossil gallery, with very white rock exposed. Once an uncomfortable body temperature is achieved, the stream way joined again and is left at a short up pitch. The Galerie de la Betoneuse is followed for a few hundred minutes, dry and bouldery, until it becomes rather muddy, in the sticky sense of the word. This left turn leads to staying high to avoid more arduous lower passage until the inventively named Galerie des Blocs, boulder chamber. A really rather unnecessary hand line crosses a muddy chamber, where we successfully convinced previously considered sensible and experienced cavers that their cowtails were entirely essential.

The potholed streamway is excellent for trapping the clumsy caver until they resign themselves to shuffling like a crab along the floor. Nat and Noel put much exertion into encouraging me to appreciate a ?remarkable eroded, stratified column?, whilst everyone else sped past. The stream rejoins the Grand Collecteur where hundreds of meters of nice large elliptical passage is dotted with traverses we ignored and stomped comfortably through the stream coated in neoprene. Various up-pitches are quite awkward and joined by somewhat squeezey struggles.

An arm-wrenching traverse in steel wire swings out to the final pitch. 200m (what the description claims but feels much less) of crawling through a chilly draughty passage leads to a beautiful French wooded area, complete with bats and via ferrata to get you into the little village of Nans sous Sainte Anne.

A quite brilliant and diverse trip, well worth doing. Thanks to everyone, in particular Holly and Joe for organising.

T.U. 12 hours, 9 minutes.

 

[TheWonderBull]

A tale of a Plymouth fresher?s very muddy and very cold adventure at CHECC:

Pulling up to CHECC 2015 in our van, greeted by Yorkshire?s exotic temperatures, I knew we were going to be in for a cold one. Though it was late and we were all in various states of tiredness, we all donned our identical Thom Starnes costumes and partied on into the night.

So, after a night of moderate drinking (ha) a group of us scoffed down some well received breakfast and made our way to Bullpot Farm. After finding out that we would have a roof over our head and warm showers greeting us on our return we were all in high spirits and raring to go!

Our walk to Mistral cave through the rolling Yorkshire countryside was slightly marred but what will now be known as ?razor-rain?. Although slightly blinded and with one member of the group almost losing a welly to a particularly hungry bog we pushed on? nothing was going to stop this intrepid group of explorers from getting underground!

The entrance to Mistral consisted of what (to me) first appeared as a gaping hole in the ground? however upon closer inspection had lots of footholds and a handy rope to help us along! Considering this was my second caving trip I was excited to see what Yorkshire had in store for me; after a short crawl I soon saw it had LOTS to show me!

The first main cavern was filled with beautifully delicate stalactites, hundreds of them descending from the ceiling like stars in the night sky. I knew at that moment without question that I could enjoy staring up at this type of view just as much as the real sky, caving definitely was for me! I could fill pages and pages about the rest of the sights but to save time I will just mention that underground waterfalls are incredibly pretty (not to mention the wonderful mud statues!).

At last though it was time to return to the surface, albeit slightly muddier than when we first started! As it was dark outside now I was surprised we (somehow) managed to make it back to our adventuring base. Here we stood shivering and numb washing what seemed like half of Mistral?s mud off our suits, greatly aided by the provided brushed and man-made pool!

Finally, like the tired and cold cavers we were, we trudged inside and breathed a sigh of relief as each of us stood for as long as we dared under the showers. Getting back in the van I reflected on the past few hours and thought ?I can?t wait to do this all again!?, so thank you CHECC and thank you Yorkshire, it?s been a pleasure.

 

[Alex]

Sorry looks like I posted in the wrong bit again, I see this was about things when cold.

 

[Pegasus]

Sorry looks like I posted in the wrong bit again, I see this was about things when cold.

No worries Alex, I'll include it in the Trip Reports short list 

...and thanks for entering 

 

[Pegasus]

To find out who won:

http://ukcaving.com/board/index.php?topic=19437.msg249546;topicseen#new