Yorkshire I

Andy Jurd, Anne VDP, Clewin Griffiths, Dave Loeffler, Hannah, Jan Evetts, Jarvist Frost, Joe King, Rik Venn, Sandeep Mavadia, Trev

Saturday

Tatham Wife: Jan, Dave L, Clewin, Rik & Jarv

Tattie is a great cave to do when its a bit wet, it's very straightforward and then just before the 4th pitch you have to crawl flat out in water a bit. After the fourth pitch is 'the ramp', which, if its raining hard, can become impassable

The best bit soon follows though. I knew there was a duck, but was loudly forewarned by shrieks of displeasure! The sloped rift opened out a little, then shrank abruptly to a sinuous crack above a pool of deep brown water. I took my helmet off and peered through, it was a relief to see the others just on the otherside. Clewin was stooped and draining water from every opening. I lowered myself into the pool and lined up for a lunge through the widest part, as I moved forward I planted my face in the water, feeling liquid pain pour in through the front of my oversuit. The shock of the cold spurred me on and a brief bit of thrashing popped me through.

I waited at the top of the fourth pitch for Dave to go and find the sump. The water was making ominous thundering noises as I stood looking down to where his light would hopefully reappear, pondering whether the water levels were rising. The narrow rift amplified the noise, the water absolutely soaking Dave as he began to ascend, even with the help of an acute deviation that could probably have been better placed.

A smooth two-hour exit & derig deposited us on the surface once more. The moor was dark, and enveloped in thick cloud. Shining your light forward, an impenetrable wall of white glared back. We stumbled on, following a back-bearing from Clew's compass, negotiating shake holes and slippery limestone pavement with convenient foot-sized grikes. Inevitably, we didn't follow the bearing perfectly, and we found ourselves on a patch of the Massif that steepened quickly into a cliff. The only way of guaging the magnitude of danger was by lobbing chunks of rock & seeing how far they rattled.

After a bit of exciting scrambling, we found our way down the terraces to the drystone wall that ran along the top of the scar, bimbling along until recognising the stones where we climbed over. Reunited with a recognisable path once more, a quick bimble got us back to the 'van, loosing the klag as we shed altitude. Grade IIb changing spot. As we approached Bullpot, rockets came screaming over on a carefully orchestrated trajectory. The festivities had begun! Parking the van far enough away to avoid the majority of the mortar'ing, we got stuck in...

J. Evetts

Gaping Ghyll (Stream): Andy, Jo, Anne & Deep

Steamed through Clapham in classic Andy style, answering the peace and quiet with techno blazing out of the chavmobile. We stopped near the waterfall, it was looking decidedly exciting and we weren't sure if Stream would be such a good idea, our backup plan was Bar. I hadn't been down that route before but the reports of a much less interesting trip didn't fill me with enthusiasm.

The walk up was, as usual, pleasant, and didn't leave me gasping for air as last time... maybe all those carries did help, a little. Using the standard random walk we found the entrance to Stream. We were going to go as far as the first big pitch to see if it was dry enough to carry on. Andy went down first, followed by the girls and me taking up the rear. I'd never caved with such a heavy tackle sack before and it was an interesting experience which lead to a great deal of faffing at the entrance, the first small pitch and a not so sprightly progress along the rift section. Andy had gone off with Anne to start rigging the traverse to the second pitch while Jo waited for me.

By the time we arrived at the traverse Andy was almost done and all that was required was to pass the tackle sack along which I was glad not to have to carry anymore. This was our fail safe point, Andy was going to go down and see if it was safe for us to carry on. After a long pause, while Anne, Jo and I admired the helicites at the pitch head, we heard "rope free." It was all go.

Anne was next in the queue, clipped on her decender and abseiled to the p-bolted deviation. It was at this deviation where she stayed for the next 20 minutes trying to swing over far enough to grab it, not knowing that the rope was secured at the bottom and that she could have pulled on the slack to haul herself in. After she realised this she easily passed the deviation and carried on to the meet Andy down at the bottom. Anne was followed by Jo and then me. At the bottom Anne did not relish the idea of several more deviations to get the main chamber and as there probably wasn't enough time for 4 to make it to the main chamber. So Anne and I headed out. She conquered the deviation on the way up, easily, and I wasn't left waiting for long. Within a few hours we emerged from the barrels to total clag. Having no compass or any other way of directing ourselves we followed the directions Andy gave us and followed the direction the wooden beams on top of the barrels were pointing until we hit the path and carried on down to the car only stopping to comment what a good squat the little house type thing would make.

Once changed we decided to investigate the fireworks going on, we ambled over in the direction they appeared to be coming from forgetting to take any form of light with us. We soon found the culprits, a group of 4, fourty somethings swigging on a 40% proof Siberian spirit near the pub car park while playing with sparklers and firing rockets into the sky. They gave us a sparkler and swig of their black drink each before we headed back to the car. Andy and Jo got to the car about 2\x{00BD} hours after us and promptly changed. We were back in good time for curry, Hoegaarden and indoor fireworks.

Sandeep Mavadia

Sunday

Bullpot: Deep, Dave, Trev & Hannah

Hardcore 4Hours in Bernie's: Everyone Else

N.O. One

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