Another Sunday

Party:-  A. Hall,  S. Pickles, K. Lewis, G. Leach, P. McDade , M. Woodhouse, F. Hardy, P. Llewellyn & . K & J .7aiker. Hugh couldn’t come, he had mumps. (or some similar spotty disease).

A real throng of cavers & a very impressive meets list - but read on because all is not as it seems at first glance.

Having all arrived ready changed at Brackenbottom at a fairly respectable hour, we set off up towards Penyghent, passing numerous walkers on their way down, some of whom were heard to comment that it was cold enough on top without going underground. - little do they know. None to soon we arrived at what we thought was the correct shallow valley concealing Penyghent’s entrance climb. Unfortunately, the whole place was filled with snow, so Steve decided it would be a good idea to poke through the snow with something pointed to find the hole. Andy however didn’t relish the thought of being thrown headfirst into all available shake holes, so he spent a few minutes repelling Steve’s advances!

Meanwhile Pete, Frank & Graham had found the real entrance, a few hundred yards further on. A few of the lads slipped down through a hole in the snow, but couldn’t gain access to the streamway on account of a solid barrier of snow & ice, plus an ignorance of which direction to dig anyway. From the various remarks thrown out as people tried to dig through the blockage it soon became clear that not many people still wanted to do the hole.

On to Hunt Pot, for a fast trip up & down on ladders. Thwarted again, the stream which normally flows into the entrance slit was completely frozen and we judged that the 90’ pitch & subsequent climb/ traverse onto the second pitch would be a bit too dodgy to attempt. So we all sat there and marveled at the fantastic array of icicles around the rock faces, although the word ‘icicle’ doesn’t really do these formations justice. They were more like massive stals & columns & just as impressive. Perhaps we would get underground at Hull Pot. Over we went, & at this juncture Kev, Jenny & their mate, decided to leave us to it, so Keith & Graham set about lowering a ladder down the very icy, free climb. They weren’t helped by the fact that certain people took a perverse delight in kicking mounds of snow down onto their heads.
Most of us went down & Steve, Keith, Graham, Pete & myself crawled into the hole leading to the Hull Pot streamway. I pushed past everyone to try out my new wet suit in the water, whilst the rest complained bitterly about the lack of fresh air in the crawl, owing to me smoking a fag. Egged on by the other two moaning sods (One of whom himself smokes large, nasty, smelly cigars) Steve proceeded to try and kick me into the stream. He failed as I went in of my own accord. The volume of water prevented further progress & we crawled back out through the thick acrid smoke.

The climb back up the ladder was hampered (For everyone who took the trouble to o down.) by man-made avalanches (Pete is a man isn’t he?) I soon had my revenge though. Eventually we set off back to the car park, having thoroughly enjoyed the walk across the snow covered landscape, but as a caving meet it was a bit of a wash out.

I. Witness.

Back to Contents