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(Click
on images to see a larger version)Editorial
One of the unforeseen
consequences of the current economic slowdown is that Jim is now able
to write articles for Bootprint. One here on his run around the Three
Peaks in not much longer than it took me to slog up Pen y Ghent and
back on the same weekend. He has also written up the summer’s Alpine
KIMM in which he and Gilly took third
place overall for mixed teams, but this
issue is full to bursting so unfortunately I have had to hold that one
over until next time.
JT
has contributed a description of last year’s
Austria trip. They went in late September and the trip may have been
slightly spoilt be inclement weather and various lurgies. Or possibly
the same shared lurgy. But they still seem to have had a good time. Janet has described her
exciting weekend at Ireby. I remember Alan Wylie saying in the pub the
following Tuesday that he had been thinking of going but didn’t like
the look of the weather forecast and so stayed at home. Maybe he saw a
different forecast but anyway, if we let our lives be ruled by weather
forecasts we would never have any adventures. It is a shame Janet did
not have an mp3 player with her. Then, instead of listening to Jimmy
and Stacey discussing penguins, she could have listened to Nic Jones’
album Penguin Eggs, one of Dave Parkinson’s choices in his
Bothy Blues.
I recently read Nick
Hornby’s novel Hi Fidelity, which is about the conflict between
record collections and women in a man’s life. I order my records
chronologically within genre whereas the hero of the novel arranged his
in the order of purchase! Certainly men do seem to obsess more over
music than women. Or am I wrong? Would any of the Vibram women members
like to do a Bothy Blues?
I
hope you enjoy this issue and do keep the articles
coming. Stuart
(stueclarke@aol.com) Vibram News
The AGM was held at the
Barge & Barrel on November 25th. The important points
were: The club made a loss of
£87.26 over the financial year. The membership subscriptions were
raised to £16 (£14 unwaged). This was because the
BMC subs, which is where most of our money goes, had gone up by
£2. There were five new
members while two members did not renew. Membership now stands at 43. Occupancy rates for
outdoor meets were about 85%. As many huts are increasing their fees
the hut fee was increased to £7 per person per night.
This should allow us to just about break even in 2009. There has been lots of
caving and the new rope is in use with rope fees being collected. All but one of the
missing library books have been returned and a new signing out book has
been installed. The arrangements for
the Annual Dinner at the Lister Arms in Malham are well in hand.
Regarding the summer barbecue, it was agreed that it is desirable to
move this back to midsummer, with 27th June suggested for
2009. SC will include in Bootprint a request for someone to offer a
venue. £25 will be
donated to each of the Cave Rescue Organisation and the Upper
Wharfedale Fell Rescue Organisation. All the Officers agreed
to continue in their posts during 2009 and were re-elected en bloc. --- The Annual Dinner will be held at the
Lister Arms, Malham on February 28th. Accomodation is in the
Hotel and in Malham Youth Hostel. Final payment is due by February 10th.
There will be the usual competitions and games - Photo Competition -
categories are landscape, action and special interest and the photos
should have been taken since the last annual dinner - just bring them
along on the night and we'll arrange display and judging as
appropriate. Raffle - please bring
one wrapped present each to the dinner - something old, something new,
something nice or something silly it doesn't really matter. --- Summer Barbecue – 27th
June has been suggested as the date, are there any volunteers to host
it this year? (D Wray has offered but it was felt that this would mean
too long a journey for many people). --- Congratulations to
Steve and Lorraine on their new baby – Jamie Scott Simpson, born
17/12/08 and weighing in at 8lb 6ozs. He arrived into the world via a
birthing pool at home - future sump diver? --- Finally, may I offer my
congratulations to myself and my lovely new wife, Sarah, on our recent
marriage. I hope we have many happy years together. But please, no more
children! --- 2009 Officers:
President:
Dave Parkinson
Chairman: Gilly
Markham
Secretary: Andy
Hargreaves
Treasurer: Alison
Hargreaves
Meets Sec: Stuart
Clarke
Caving Sec: Nick
Evans
Social Sec: Sarah
Tuffs
Librarian:
Ian Parker
Bootprint: Stuart
Clarke
Q’master:
Ian Parker
BMC Rep: vacant Back to Top Meet Report: Fron Wydyr, 17th
to 19th October 2008
Present:Alan W, Mark,
Stuart, Anne, Jim, Andy, Alison, JT, Ian, Dave Parkinson, Gilly, Tom,
Adam, Adam’s friend. Saturday, Stuart: A new
way up Snowdon! At 8:30 I decided to get the five to nine bus so packed
hurriedly and jogged down the road. Just as I got to the main road at
ten to the bus came but stopped for me when I waved. At Pen y Pass I
found that I had forgotten my map & poles but I had my cag and
sarnies so no problemo. It was quite windy so I decided against Grib
Goch and took the Miners’ Track with not a soul in sight. I ambled
round the south side of Lyn Lyddaw then up the side of Afon Glaslyn for
a bit before following a rocky ridge to Glaslyn itself. Not
having my map I was not sure of the way down, but I stumbled on some
railway tracks and decided to follow them as I reasoned that they must
lead somewhere (this is not as disingenuous as it sounds as I almost
took the Snowdon Ranger track by mistake). Again there was no one about
until I reached Clogwyn station where a train was standing, the
carriages full of people staring out into the clag – good value for
£15 per head! I followed the Llechog ridge with fine views down
to Nant Peris and the hut. A sudden heavy shower drove me back to the
main track and so on to Llanberis. Back at the hut I discovered that
there had been a plumbing emergency – a burst pipe behind the kitchen
wall. After the others returned there was talk of going to the Lincoln
Club hut or even going home but Alan and a member of the home team
managed to effect a temporary fix. Alan, Mark, Dave &
Anne. We walked down the road
to Llanberis, then turned left by Petes Eats & up the road to the 4th
footpath, then up by the side of a quarry to the col at Bwlch-y-Groes.
We traversed Moel Eilio, Foel Gron, Foel Goch, Moel Cynghorion and down
the SE ridge, at which point a heavy shower came in on the strong and
blustery wind, so we decided to cut the walk short. We had to decide
which side of the valley to walk back along, and chose the W side. This
may not have been the best choice, but we found our way without getting
too wet, dropped down to a recently renovated farm and picked up the
right of way along the track. Mark left to go straight back to the hut
while we stopped at {insert name here} where we had tea, coffee or hot
chocolate and tea cakes or Bara Brith. The owner was very much a
character with a lot of stories to tell. Back to the hut along the road
again with a detour to look at the castle, where Alan put his
engineering, plumbing and hut management skills to use isolating the
leaking pipe in the water system so at least we could flush the loos. Ian: Solo walk to
explore Gyrn Las scramble, before carrying on to Crib Goch. It was a
pleasant morning, some sunshine, breeze, and early autumn yellows in
the valley. The path next to the stream is followed all the way to the
scramble, which is a little scary for the first 5 metres (avoidable by
crossing the stream) before developing into an easier enjoyable
scramble. This is a nice approach to the Parsons Nose, and highly
recommended. Up in the mist Grib Goch was very busy with novices going
very slowly. The summit too was busy, and I saw there a seemingly
resident partridge! Back down the railway path, past the castle, and
back through the quarries to finish a pleasant day. Sunday. The weather was
windy so Alan took most of us on a guided tour of the quarries
finishing up at the slate museum, which I had never been to and much
enjoyed. - Stuart
Gilly and her boys went
to a climbing wall. Meet Report: Bowderstones, 7th
to 9th November
Present: John L, Bev,
Stuart, Sarah, Alan W., Gilly, Andy, Alison, Janet, Jimmy, Dave W.,
Jennifer, Emma 1, Emma 2, Mathew, Matt & Lisa. Saturday: Very wet in
the morning so a late start. Stuart, Sarah &
Alan. Thru Grange then up to Hause Gate. We were planning to walk along
the ridge to High Spy but it was so wet and windy we decided to walk
with the wind at our backs over Cat Bells then down to Hawes End. After
snap we followed the lakeshore back to Grange and on to the hut for
mugs (small) of tea and drying out. The others all got wet
too. In the evening we managed to let off fireworks during a half hour
window of dry weather and had a good show having previously got a
selection from the Standard Fireworks factory shop paid for by a small
additional charge each. It was a good night with Jimmy in fine form on
the guitar. On Sunday the weather
was even worse. Caving Bulletin No.2
Gour Inlet, Notts2: There were two trips in
March’08. 21/03/08: Janet and Jimmy came
along on this one, and got a long way into Parallel Universe. Nick went
on to the Cresta Run, and assisted with some bolting. 29/03/08: This was the one that
Matty came on. Unfotunately, we didn’t get past the short sump, as the
pump batteries were almost dead, and we didn’t fancy holding our breath. 24/03/08 Wretched
Rabbit – County Pot
Al Hartley lead this excellent trip: In Wretched
Rabbit - Spiral Staircase Passage – Gypsum
Cavern – Easter Grotto – Mainline Terminus – Mainline Passage –
Manchester Bypass – County Pot. A five hour trip. Al H, Nick, Matty,
Janet, Jimmy, Phil Parker. 12/07/08 Ireby Fell
Cavern ‘pump-a-sump’ Dig
Nick, Janet, Jimmy, Al H., and Matty attended the
‘pump-a-sump’ weekend in Ireby. Conditions were wet but not
problematic. Matty went through the pumped-out sump to Ireby2 and
helped drag trays of sand. Nick manned the pump for a while, and then
joined the others in the Whirlpool Chamber end of the dig, which is
reminiscent of ‘The Great Escape’, with bags of sand lining the crawl.
We emerged to enjoy beer and a barbeque in the entrance shakehole! A
“Grand Day Out”!
The dig has subsequently been completed, and Ireby2
is now accessible via the roof tunnel, which has a short pitch at
either end. It’s well worth a visit, and we’ll no doubt have a Club
trip down there in the near future. 20/07/08 Aygill Caverns
Nick, Janet, Alan Wiley
and Jimmy turned out for this exploratory trip, which turned into a
semi-blob, if the truth be know. There’s a tight-ish bit of descending
S-shaped rift just before the second pitch. Nick got stuck first. Alan
had a look, and also managed an undignified retreat. We crawled back to
the last chamber, took all our gear, harnesses etc, off, and went back
for another go. This time Alan got down “easy-peasy”, but Nick got
stuck again, perhaps due to having shorter legs, and thereby failing to
keep his backside up in the wider section of the rift. There was a
general lack of ‘Goforit’, and we decided to come back another day with
ladders instead of rope. Unfinished Business! 30/08/08 Mistral
Samantha’s first caving trip! Accompanied by Nick,
Janet, Jimmy, and Alan Wiley. Mistral itself is a short but interesting
grovel, which then provides access to the bottom end of the Pippikin
System. It was originally passable only by the thinnest and most
flexible of cavers, but has since been blasted, and any difficulties
encountered now are entirely psychological. From Dusty Junction we
headed for the Hall of Ten, and a detour into the Hall of the Mountain
King, whose full size mud sculpture of the King (or is it the Queen?)
is a sight to behold! The mud in this chamber is truly in a class of
it’s own, and it’s very easy to loose a wellie. It’s tempting to treat
the mud slope like a water slide, but I don’t recommend it, as there
are hidden boulders. At the bottom of the mud-slope, ‘going with the
flow’, on your back, through a small hole leads to the Cigalere
streamway, which is well worth a visit. On the return, oozing your way
back up through the hole on your stomach ensures ‘complete coverage’.
Then on to Gour Hall via some well decorated passage and the occasional
easy squeeze. Gour Hall is the terminus, so then it’s a case of
retracing your steps back to daylight, which Sam was quite pleased to
see. 31/08/08 Dollytubs
pitch, Alum Pot
This was Samantha’s
first SRT trip. Nick and Alan Wiley provided some instruction on the
Inglesport wall, and Sam got the hang of things pretty quickly. Then
off to Alum Pot. Nick rigged the Dollytubs Alternative pitch; a nice
pitch which includes a traverse half way down, and drops you onto the
balcony with a fine view of the open pothole. 13/09/08 Alum Pot.
A good turn out for this Club trip. Nick, Alan W, Al
H, Matty, Lindsey, Anne, Janet, Jimmy, and Fred (Jimmy’s brother).
Janet rigged the Northwest route (the very big dangle), accompanied by
Matty and Lindsey. Al H rigged the Southeast route, (which is also
quite a big dangle), and the rest of us went down the traditional
route, rigged by Nick. It was a wet day, and the pot was very busy, so
not everyone made it to the bottom. There was a big queue at the
bridge, so most of Nick’s team went back out from there. Anne was happy
with her trip, and I’m sure Lindsey and Matty were impressed with the
Northwest route. 11/10/08 Jingling Pot
Nick, Al H, Alan W, Andy, Alison and Phil Parker
turned out for this SRT trip. Nick rigged the main shaft, while Al
rigged the more complex Lateral Cleft route. It’s a predominantly
vertical pot, with little horizontal development, so there was
opportunity, for those who wanted, to do both routes. A pleasant day,
marred only by the dead sheep at the bottom of the shaft. 25/10/08 Mistral
This was a trip arranged by Nick for two of his
friendly neighbourhood ‘lager louts’, (bless them), Gary and Daniel.
The lads have been caving with Nick several times before (Long Churn,
Browgill, Valley Entrance), but were up for more of a challenge. Alan
Hartley joined us. We did the usual trip through to Gour Hall,
including the brief detour to the Hall of the Mountain king, and the
mud-slide into the Cigalere streamway (it just has to be done!). From
Dusty Junction we also went up to Red Wall Chamber, and through a short
constricted passage into another interesting chamber with no apparent
exit, but digging potential. Unusually,
we all had considerable difficulty in the Hall of Ten. The mud in here
is solid, but sliding down to the bottom of the chamber, it proved
difficult to control the descent! Climbing out the other side proved
remarkably tricky – we all just kept sliding back down. Cutting steps
with a karabiner eventually worked for Al, while elbow and knee jams in
the corner worked for Nick. We haven’t encountered this problem before,
and I can’t explain why the mud was so uncooperative on this occasion.
It was a wet day – maybe more moisture in the air? Theories, anyone? Next time I go down
there I’m taking an ice-axe. I’m not joking.
06/12/08 Alum Pot
Yes, again! We like it.
This was the Helwith Bridge Hut Meet weekend. Nick, Janet, Jimmy, Al H,
Alan W, Samantha, Andy and Alison. Three routes rigged, just like the
previous trip. Samatha joined Al H. on Southeast route, and went out
via Northwest route. Ice on the rope caused her a couple of
disconcerting little slips near the top! Alison descended the
traditional route and went out with Al via Southeast route. Strangely,
we had the whole Pot to ourselves on this occasion. But then, it was
just a tad chilly…………. 07/12/08 Valley
Entrance.
Only Nick, Samantha,
and Ian ventured underground on the Sunday. A brief trip through the
Kingsdale Master Cave was enough for Sam who was feeling the cold. Nick
and Ian made a brief excursion into the Milky Way. 21/12/08 Bull Pot of
the Witches
An introductory trip
for Tony, with Nick, Samantha and Dan McDowell. A no-tackle trip. After the climb down we followed the water and
then turned left to Burnett’s Great Cavern. Then to the top of the
second set of pitches, and free climbed out to daylight via the first
set. Then upstream to drop down the calcited hole and horizontal
squeeze. We had a look at the vertical squeeze, but chose to leave this
for another day. A really good first trip for Tony, who, I’m pleased to
say, appears keen to go caving again!
I know that Janet, Jimmy, and Al Hartley have done
quite a lot of caving in addition to the trips described above, but
that’s for them to report on if they so wish.
Here’s looking forward to lots of caving in 2009! - Nick Evans. Caving Sec.
December 2008. Zig-Zagging Across The
Zillertal
By John Turner Having flown out from
Manchester on the previous afternoon (Saturday) we caught the 9 o'clock
train from Salzburg to Innsbruck and then the local train up to the
Brenner Pass getting there just before 12. The Brenner Pass is a
strange place consisting mainly of a large shopping centre which we had
to pick our way through to find our route. The weather wasn't too
brilliant being cool and drizzly requiring full waterproofs but at
least we were starting at about 1300m to reach the highest hut (the
Landshutte/Europa) of the holiday at 2700m. The signposts indicated
four hours as we set off up a muddy track through the forest. We
regrouped at the edge of the trees and then set off at our own paces
for the hut. Andy and Bridget made the hut in guidebook time and I was
just five minutes behind and not really having any problems with the
altitude. Dave and John however were about an hour behind. By the time
they arrived the rain had turned to snow and definitely ruled out our
Plan A which was to cross a high and steep pass, the Alpeiner Scharte,
on Tuesday. Monday dawned with a
couple of inches of snow on the ground and a strong wind whipping
around the hut. So we dressed up in all our warm clothes to set
off on our Plan B route only to find after five minutes that we were
out of the wind as we crossed the ridge below the hut. The morning
consisted of a gradually descending traverse to the south of the main
ridge to reach the Pfitscherjoch, a low col at 2246m on the
Austrian/Italian border separating the Val di Viztel to the south west
and the Zemmtal running northeast down towards Mayrhofen. The private
hut here was closed and boarded up but the winter/store room was open
and we sheltered from the still windy and snowy weather. The next stage
was a traverse round to the Olperer hut. The signpost indicated 4 hours
as we set off down the main valley track looking for the turn off. Andy
and Bridget were way ahead and lost in the murk as the rest of us
stopped certain that we were going the wrong way and losing too much
height. As we worked out where we had gone wrong with the help of
John’s GPS we also fretted what to do about the other two. Finally
after what seemed an age they reappeared having realised that we
weren’t following them. We retraced our steps up the wide track looking
carefully for the turn off we had missed on the way down. A solitary
paint flash, almost obscured by the snow, was spotted but unlike the
morning’s path this one was very indistinct and in the snow hard to
follow. Eventually it became more obvious but as it wound its way
through boulder fields and across streams the fresh snow made careful
foot placement essential. The route eventually joined the path coming
down from the Alpeiner Scharte and then ascended round a couple of ribs
to reach the Olperer. Dave, who had done a
very similar walking tour in the Zillertal thirty years ago, had been
saying that this was one of the oldest huts but we were greeted by a
brand new construction (opened this year) with, most importantly, hot
showers. After a long day in the inclement weather they were very
welcome.
So Wednesday morning
saw us descending back down the now icy path to the valley and
retracing our steps back along the lake. What a difference a day makes!
The sun was now shining and the mountains now visible above the
glinting glaciers. And with the sun had come the tourists – busloads of
them compared to the two we had seen the day before. We stopped for a
coffee at the end of the lake, changed into shorts and began the two
and half hour trog up to the hut. The track zigzagged up through a
lovely pine forest before emerging on the grassy alps above. The
Friesenberger hut was the second highest that we were to use (2477m)
but the freedom of walking in shorts after the last three days made the
climb very enjoyable and I relished striding out and leaving the others
behind (until long-legged Andy eventually caught me up as we neared the
hut). We sat on the terrace drinking beer and digesting yet another
twist to our situation – the cold weather had frozen the hut’s water
supply and unless the warden could rectify matters he would be closing
the hut after tonight. Our plan had been to ascend the Riffler and stay
another night at the hut before deciding what to do next. The Riffler
looked doable – in fact it looked rather boringly straightforward – so
we decided to still do it and then move back to the Olperer Hut
afterwards if necessary. The weather was still
fine the next morning though a bit chilly in the breeze. A good path
led up to a broad col on the ridge between the Rifffler and the
Peterskopfl - the latter remarkable for the numerous and weird cairns
that had been constructed. We turned left and immediately encountered a
large boulder field. We followed the paint splashes and soon were
following a well constructed path that zigzagged up the slope and
across the top of a cliff. The route now ascended a more defined ridge
and became more scrambly before reaching a plateau where we regrouped
and grabbed a bite to eat. The terrain now became very bouldery but the
paint flashes gave a reasonable line and the boulders proved to be
generally stable. There was still snow around and as we reached the
final ridge the fresh snow was thick enough to make progress quite
tricky and slow as the exposure increased with dramatic views down the
north face to the glacier below. At 3231 metres the summit provided
good views of the Zillertal mountains to the south, the Stubai Alps to
the west, the Grosglockner to the east and northwards across the
Innsbruck valley. As we waited for Dave and John (suffering from a bad
cold and the altitude), Andy filled in the log book and discovered that
we were the first people up for a week – we wondered if we would be the
last for this season. On returning to the hut
the warden was busy shutting the place up and although the water was
ostensibly the problem others we spoke to later intimidated that the
reason for premature closure may have been lack of punters. Anyway we
made our way across to the Olperer to an evening of hot showers,
Tiroler Grostl (fried potatoes with bacon bits and fried eggs) and good
wine. The next day we
retraced our steps back past the Friesenberger hut and descended down
through the trees to Breitlahner way below. At one zigag on the path my
foot missed the narrow path and I overbalanced into the bushes. No harm
was done but one of my poles was bent and broke when I tried to
straighten it. At Breitlahner we crossed the river and started up the
track towards the Berliner hut – three hours up the side valley past a
number of hostelries. On approaching the Berliner itself it looked like
many of the other large huts in the Austrian Alps but on entering the
dimly lit hall I felt I had strayed into an upmarket Victorian hotel.
The place seemed vast and the large dining room so grand with its
chandeliers, ornate wood panelling and pillars one could easily imagine
the grand dinners that must have been held over the years attended by
knickerbocker-clad members of the German Alpine club. (Andrew Reynolds
had warned me about the haunted room (number 5) that he had stayed in
and I was relieved to hear that we were in room 25 – two floors away.) Saturday started cloudy
as we ascended a well graded path up towards the SchwarzenSee through
scenery that reminded us all of a remote Scottish Glen – we couldn’t
see the glaciers above! The route today then took us up easy terrain
towards a high col (the Morchenscharte) at 2870m where there was still
a fair amount of snow making the last few feet more difficult. We
descended the far side using fixed ropes down the side of the wide
scree-filled gully. There were in fact fixed ropes at two levels –
presumably the higher ones coming into use as the snow level builds up.
There was very little snow now and the cables were not really necessary
but allowed for a speedier descent. The path did very little traversing
and the zigzags plunged remorselessly to the valley below. As the
valley floor neared the path became even steeper as it threaded its way
down steep, shrubby gullies and across rock bands. The fixed cables on
the rock certainly made life easier but there were plenty of positive
holds that could have been used instead (and where there was no rock
there were no cables!). Eventually the path came to a little ridge,
turned left with a fence shielding the drop, down a few metal rungs and
finished down a ladder (which looked like it had been bought at B &
Q). A few more feet down the moraine and we were at the river. The hut,
however, was a thousand feet higher up so we girded our proverbials and
set-off. There is something satisfying about walking up these well
constructed hut paths – a good rhythm is easily established – and I
enjoyed this as the last act of the day. The Greizer was a
friendly and cosy hut. As it was Saturday night the place was busy and
although we had obtained a room with matrazenlager some guests had to
resort to notlager (mattresses on the floor). The Austrian Alpine Club
huts are obliged to provide a reasonably priced meal called by the
generic name of Bergsteigeressen and as the lady hut warden didn’t know
the English for fricadella we were shepherded into the kitchen to
observe the rissole like burgers being cooked. Yet again we were
forced to change our plans. The warden informed us that our next hut,
the Kasseler, was shut and instead made a booking for us at the Grune
Wand, a private hut in the valley below. The Kasseler was presumably
shut because the new snow had made the path between that hut and the
von Edel hut above Mayrhofen untenable – even in summer conditions it
is a long day with a standard time of nine hours and involves a
traverse high above the valley crossing numerous rock ribs. On Sunday we still had
to cross over into the next valley so we set off upwards as many of the
weekend punters descended back down leaving their packs and bags to be
whisked down on the cableway – a feature of many of the huts allowing
for easy supply of provisions. (These cableways are not supposed to
carry people but last year we were amused one late afternoon to watch
as the luggage carrier slowly passed the dining room window complete
with a member of staff sheltering under an umbrella!) The morning was
cold and misty but as we climbed there were indications that this was
due to a temperature inversion as we caught occasional glimpses of
sunlit peaks. Unfortunately by the time we did break out of the low
cloud high cloud had also rolled in and the day remained miserable.
There was plenty of snow as we ascended to the Lapenscharte at 2700m
and when we looked over the next valley we could see that there was
also plenty there making the Kasseler/von Edel connection indeed very
dubious. We descended and
reached the junction between the descent down to the Grune Wand (our
destination) and the three hour traverse to the Kasseler hut. John, who
was now recovering from his cold wanted the exercise and so we set off
along the traverse again encountering fixed ropes as the path made its
way around a steep rock bluff. We eventually reached the Kasseler and
had a late lunch in the well-appointed winter room before descending
down to the Grune Wand hut in the valley below. Although we had tried
to ascertain details of the bus times from the owners the night before,
our German and their English had left us confused and we thought we
were aiming for a 10:30 bus starting at the Wasserfall Hotel six
kilometres down the valley. So we left the hut at 8:30 reaching said
hotel at 10:00. Reading the time table however it seemed that the next
bus wasn’t until two o’clock in the afternoon. I asked a fraulein who
was busy setting the outside tables and she replied that the next bus
was in ten minutes. At that point two small buses appeared! One
of these was a minibus which was actually going up to the Grune Wand
(and now we realised that the lady last night was trying to tell us
that the first bus from there went at 10:30 although we could get one
from the hotel at 9:00am). Anyway we took the other which transported
us down to Mayrhofen with an excellent display of passing skills on the
narrow road. As a consolation prize
for not being able to complete the proper route we had set our sights
on doing the Ahornspitze from the von Edel hut the following morning.
The plan was to catch the brand new cable car most of the way up to the
hut but over some rather luke-warm hot chocolates at a posh hotel we
decided instead to walk all the way up to the hut (about 1500 metres of
ascent) to make the most of the day. John was still recovering and was
favouring the cable assisted option but in the end decided to walk up
as well. As these things do, the ascent was turned into an unstated
race – either against the signpost time of four and a half hours or
against each other – and I was soon breathing heavily as I tried to
stay in contact with Andy and Bridget as the path climbed steeply up
through the forest. Andy eventually made the hut in three hours and I
came in thirty minutes later beating Bridget by ten minutes as she was
forced to stop for some food on the last stretch. Dave and John failed
to make the guide book time but both said they had been going well.
This was the last fling
of the holiday and we descended back down to Mayrhofen via a circuitous
and boring track through the trees. After luxurious hot baths we
indulged ourselves with a large meal and the next morning caught the
narrow-gauge train down the picture-postcard valley to join the main
line at Jenbach and our connection for Salzburg. Meet Report: The Old Sunday School,Helwith
Bridge.
5th
to 6th
December 2008 This was the first time
we had used this hut owned by the Yorkshire Subterranean Society. We
were to have shared it with a small group from the Orpheus Caving Club
but at the last minute on Friday night a large party from Manchester
University arrived having been unable to get their mini bus through the
snow and ice to wherever it was they were going. So the hut ended up
being a bit crowded. Saturday. Stuart Walked up Moor Head
Lane and then along the broad ridge to the foot of Pen y Ghent. This
was hard going as there was a foot of snow with “breakable crust”.
Luckily there were two sets of footprints ahead of me that I could
follow for most of the way. The path up to the summit was well trodden
but slippery. I should have put my crampons on but couldn’t be
bothered. There were crowds on top. As I had been so slow I descended
to Horton by the tourist path, which was also difficult as the path was
frozen and uneven. I then followed the Ribble Way by the river back to
the hut. Beautiful weather. Anne & Jim. Got up
at 7:15 and drove to Hyde [Magic Mountain sale, ed.]. Bought some
Ronnies for £10, a very thick fleece for £10 and some
luggage with wheels for £15 – bargain. Back to Stockton Heath and
then out to the village for coffee. Saw some friends and had another
coffee. Pottered round at home, bought 3x60GB tape off ebay and drove
to Helwith Bridge.
Walked from hut up
Crummock Dale. Followed bridleway N all way to Sellside via Alum Pot
where Manchester Uni party were sledging, their mini-bus being stuck in
the snow again! Then up High Birkworth & followed the Ribble Way
back to Horton and then in the dark back to the hut. Ian. After a good night
in the pub, I was keen to get up and go shopping. ‘What’s up with you?’
you may ask, the weather’s fantastic. It was simple; I need to
supplement my hairy body with fur to keep warm in caves. So the plan
was to walk to Ingleton via Horton and Ingleborough, buy a furry suit,
and walk back, including as much ski descent as possible. I left the hut to be
greeted by a snowy landscape and blue sky to all horizons. The snow was
crisp and firm, but not so firm that one could stand on it. In fact,
walking was distinctly hard work, even on the flat, and I wished I’d
brought some nice skinny skis to skate thru the fields on. Soon after
leaving Helwith Bridge, the Ribble Way follows the river, adding
another dimension to the enticing views of Pen y Ghent. I paused for a
photo, and continued, without seeing a soul until Horton, where I met a
Norwegian who’d spotted my snow blades. He was impressed and wanted to
go home to his skinny touring skis too. I crossed the railway and then
more crispy farmland to head up thru Sulber Nick. After the now
tumbling down shooting hut, the path climbs but the snow became deeper
and softer. I decided that this must be the most snow I’ve seen in the
Dales for around 20 years, and I really wished I had full length skis
and skins. As the path climbed higher still, the snow became drier, and
then as the summit plateau was approached, firmer. It took me 4 hours
to reach the summit – it was now 1pm and over lunch, with views to
everywhere, I decided to abandon shopping and concentrate on skiing. I donned skis at the
trig point and set off towards Little Ingleborough, but had to give up
due to lack of snow cover. So I went north, past Swine tail, to find
some firm snow on the slopes facing NNE. After a few runs, not without
falls, I went to Simon Fell before heading back. The snow was
frustrating to rubbish and I gave up. The lowering sun gave way to the
moon and Venus, the blue sky turned red to grey, and the lighting
changed in a way that made it glorious to be out in such exceptional
(these days) weather. After Craghill Farm, I caught up with Dave and
Rigor to finish a great but at times tiring day. A large party went to
Alum Pot (see Caving Notes). Sunday: The weather was
not so good with lowish cloud but still fine and cold. Three Snowy Peaks
7th
December 2008 by Jim Work overload forced us
to travel late to the December meet at the Yorkshire Subterranean
Society’s hut in Helwith Bridge. And besides, the delay give us a
chance to pick up a few bargains at the Magic Mountain factory sale in
Hyde where we also met up with Steve, Phil and a very snotty Finn.
However, I still had a plan. In fact so firm was this plan that, for
the first time, I’d pre-loaded my little Garmin GPS with the route and
also highlighted it on a 1:50K map that I’d printed on two sides of a
sheet of A4 Toughprint. We arrived at the hut
just after sunset on Saturday to find deep snow everywhere and the car
park like an ice rink. We opted to leave Anne’s van on the road but
soon moved it after hearing of quarry drivers complaining that they
couldn’t negotiate the junction. Despite the snow, my plan to do the
Yorkshire 3 Peaks seemed doable – and besides, there was an obvious
option to cut out Whernside if necessary. I managed to get up,
what felt like, reasonably early but last minute faffing meant I didn’t
get out of the door until 8:24 – squandering at least 20 minutes of
daylight. With all the ice about, simply stepping out of the door was
quite a challenge in running shoes but the road was clear and I was
soon trotting off over the bridge. I crossed the main road and started
up the long drag on the other side at nearly a brisk walk. Deep snow
lay all about but the cold meant it was just firm enough to bear my
weight. However, it hadn’t been for previous walkers so there were
plenty of postholes to negotiate. On a post by the first
gate a kestrel sat, fluffed up,. I was quite close before he summoned
up the energy to fly away – sadly, only to another post further up the
track. I felt guilty for forcing this poor cold bird once more into the
air but the rough ground meant there wasn’t really an option. This time
he flew low, off across the moor. I started paying more
attention to the footprints in the snow. One or two tracks coming down
seemed to be from running shoes. So I’m not the only idiot then! And,
on the steeper ground near the top, I also noticed tracks from a
mountain bike – now that is mad! Then, as if to remind me of my
late start, separately, I passed two walkers already coming down; all
wrapped up against the weather. The second one was even brandishing an
ice axe – not the last I would see in the day. I made the summit of
Pen-y-Ghent at 9:35 but didn’t hang about for the view. The clag was
down and a biting wind had picked up so I carried straight on along the
ridge, then left through a gate. After about a mile the main track
bears left again back to Horton but I needed to carry straight on over
open moor. There were a few tracks to follow but it was now quite boggy
under the snow and I desperately wanted to keep my feet dry if
possible. I ended up making slow progress dodging back and forth around
bogs that were hidden by the snow. As the ground steepened it got dryer
and I made better time – only to miss, and have to climb back to, a
gate that led to the right side of a wall. More teetering around icy
puddles and then, at last, on to the firmer ground of the Pennine Way.
Then off left, dropping down through various farm yards, over a metal
bridge, past the very old Lodge Hall (timber frames and leaded widows)
and finally back onto the road to Ribblehead. It was only 11:13 when
I reached the track that goes up towards Ingleborough so I opted to
press on. At 11:22 I reached the viaduct – nearly 3 hours of elapsed
time and already outside the men’s record of 2hr 46min 17sec. Oh well,
if I got a shift on then I might make the wimin’s record of 3:16:17!
The wind was picking up now so I used the shelter offered by the bridge
that crosses the railway to stop for 5 minutes for a bite and a drink.
Then on up the long, long slog up the path around the top of Whernside.
By the time I reached the ridge the clag was really down and the wind
bitter. Many folks coming the other way were wearing crampons and I
felt distinctly underdressed. On my legs were just a pair of Ronnies
(not even fat ones) and upstairs I just had a thermal, a fleece and a
Pertex windshirt. Silk liners and Windstopper gloves and a thick Buff
completed the outfit. Normal times, this works well but it was
beginning to feel a bit Spartan. I still had a Paclite jacket and
trousers in my pack but these would have added to the sweat and
probably made me colder. I finally reached the
summit at 12:56. Ouch! Slowing down a bit now so pressed straight on
into the wind down the ridge on the other side then left down the
steps. These were a nightmare! All covered in snow and ice so that each
step had to be taken one at a time lest I shoot off down the hill
without stopping. Do runners ever carry ice axes? As the ground
levelled I overtook a couple striding along purposefully. Then,
approaching a farm, I had my only major slip of the day. There is a
simple wooden bridge, with no rails, over a stream and a tractor had
been back and forth a few times compacting the snow into two tracks of
ice. Just as I approached the bridge I slipped forwards but just held
it in a d'Artagnan-esque sliding lunge down one of the tracks. Then on into the
farmyard where, for some unknown reason, little Garmin thought I’d
reached the end of my journey. It didn’t tell me ‘You’ve reached your
destination’ but, instead, every time I headed off simply pointed back
the way I had come. I eventually worked out what was going on but no
amount of button pressing could make it carry on. By this time the
‘striding’ couple had arrived so I felt under pressure to get out of
there. I quickly re-engaged map reading brain and set off – only to
miss the turning down the hill. I soon realised my mistake but rather
than meet the ‘striders’ again I decided to carry on and follow a short
detour to Chapel-le-Dale. I’m glad I did for it’s
a pretty collection of houses and a church and by 13:54 I was back at
the main road and time for a 10-minute break before the last big push.
Over the road I found a footpath leading directly up the hill. A short
while later I regained the main track where a couple were striding up
the hill. It couldn’t be. It was! In an attempt to cover my
embarrassment, I made some quip as I passed them. There were many folks
streaming down off Ingleborough now – most of them with crampons. I was
soon to find out why. I had never used this approach before and it’s
pretty steep – especially when covered in, now softening, snow. Much as
I tried to make each step count, I must have slipped back on at least 1
in 5 of them. I was getting tired now, very tired, and was reduced to
reading the altitude from little Garmin, counting down the number of
metres to the top and trying to keep going for at least 20 between
rests. Finally, tired and
cold, I made it onto the ridge. By now the light was starting to fade
and all sensible folk had long since gone. I was a little concerned for
the ‘striders’ following on a long way behind. The clag was well down
and the wind now quite fierce. I trudged up the ridge, following many
footsteps towards the top. Suddenly, everything was flat and I’d
reached the plateau but had little idea where the actual summit lay. I
knew it was near the far edge so I just pressed on. I thought I was
following footprints but then they just seemed to criss-cross
aimlessly. I was very cold and even considered giving up and turning
round. But that’s not my style and, anyway, it must be around here
somewhere. Fingers now numb with cold I pressed on leaning into the,
ever increasing, wind. Eventually, the summit bump loomed out of the
mist directly in front of me. Visibility was less than 10 metres now
and I could easily have missed it. It was already 15:24 but I didn’t
know that then. I stumbled over the rocks and immediately turned round,
away from the bitter wind. Next problem: how to
get out of this god-forsaken place! By now my fingers were completely
incapable of operating the tiny buttons on little Garmin but, luckily,
it was already in ‘breadcrumb’ mode. I headed back, roughly following
the way I had come. I knew that somewhere along the ridge was a path
off to the right and safety – but where? A sense of panic started to
loom. The light was fading and I was getting very cold. I realised it
would be hard to find the path in these conditions so I needed to do
something – and fast! I found a little shelter behind some rocks and
managed to pull the glove off a thumb using my teeth. With this I was
just able to operate the buttons on little Garmin. I had already
discovered that, although my route had failed, all the waypoints that
I’d put in were still there. I remembered that I’d put one in at the
start of the path and was just able to find it and select ‘goto’.
Bingo. Glove back on and trot off down the hill. Sure enough the path
was there and, after a short way, easy to follow. Soon I found some ski
tracks – probably from Ian’s blades on the day before – and a welcome
sight. As I trotted on down
the path I dropped out of the clag and the streetlights of Horton
became visible. The wind was behind me now and kept blowing the cord on
my Buff round my face and into my eyes. I was reduced to popping the
end in my mouth to keep it under control. Lower down the snow began to
soften and, compounded by failing light and tiredness, this made me
very cautious. The last bit seemed to take forever and I finally rolled
into Horton at 16:42. I knew Anne would be
worrying so I tried my phone but there was no signal. Chance to get my
head-torch out and have another quick bite and a drink. Then head south
along the road and track that forms part of the Ribble Way. It was
pitch black now and when, through the gloom, I saw a tunnel under the
railway I headed for it. What I hadn’t noted from the map earlier was
that there were two tunnels and I needed the second one. The path on
the other side sort of made sense but then I came to a T-junction that
did not. I should have stopped and worked out what was going on but I
was tired and concerned for the earful that I was likely to get so
headed for the lights that I assumed were the pub. Alarm bells should
have rung when I crossed the railway again and then the river but I was
on autopilot now. The lights turned out
to belong to a farm. I checked my map and worked out where I was. A
footpath should take me back to the road junction but there was no sign
of it in the gloom. So I switched off my torch to avoid detection and
headed across gates and fields roughly in the right direction. I must
have been close to the path but I’m sure the footprints in the snow did
not impress the farmer the next morning. I returned to the hut
at 17:46 to find everyone gone except Anne and the students. I didn’t
get my earful – just a firm ticking off instead. We quickly packed up
and then headed for the chippy in Settle. My total elapsed time was 9hr
22min and the distance covered was 46.8km (29 miles). No records broken
– but then it wasn’t the weather for it. It might well have been
quicker with touring skis so perhaps I’ll have a go at that next time.
Bothy Blues
When I returned from
the Scottish Christmas trip, on checking my e-mails I found a request
from Stuart to do my Bothy Blues selection for Bootprint. Easy I
thought, how wrong I was! As I write this the floor is strewn with CDs
and even old vinyl albums, trying to decide what to put on the list and
what to leave out. As most of you know I
am a folk music fan but I like most types of music so I have tried to
give you a broad selection of my musical tastes. I will start off with
the most popular stuff, all from the 70s. First Simon and
Garfunkel: Bridge Over Troubled Water (1970)
memories of when times seemed so good, or so I thought.
I might surprise some
people with my next selection, I have left out Steeleye Span and gone
for Fairport Convention: Liege and Lief in my humble opinion
one of the best albums of all time. Following on from that
keeping the Fairport connection Sandy Denny: No More Sad Refrains –
The Anthology what a beautiful voice, her tragic death was a great
loss to music Now a bit of classical Beethoven:
Symphony No. 6 in F Major Op. 68 “Pastoral” to me evocative of the
Alpine Mountains. My
next piece is Vaughan Williams (sorry Mark) Fantasia on
Theme by Thomas Tallis Why? Because I like it. My next is a sort of
Folk/Pop crossover, first heard on Andy Hargreaves car CD player, I had
to go buy it as soon as possible The Waterboys: Fishermans Blues
– Superb. A lot of the Waterboy’s
work was done in Connemara, so another Irish album Planxty: The
Well Below The Valley – with early Christie Moore. More early
Vibram memories (Doesnt time fly!)
No collection of mine
would be complete without Runrig. It is a toss up which album
to choose Mara or The Stamping Ground but I think The
Stamping Ground would marginally win because the songs Leaving
Strathconon and The Summer Walkers are two of my favourite tracks the
real feeling of Scotland. I have had to leave
loads out, The Beatles, Stones, James Taylor, Dire Straits, Holst,
Sibelius, Steeleye Span, Watersons, Dubliners, Bob Dylan, Queen, Martin
Simpson’ I could go on forever. I hope you like my
selection and if you have never heard some of them, next time you go
bothying you might try them.
- David Parkinson Ireby Rescue Weekend
Friday
3rd Oct 2008 It was hidden earth
last weekend so caving was planned, GDO (grand day out) with the Ireby
sump busters. The GDOs are about getting a mass multi club team to dig
at what is hoped to be a connection into Ireby2, a sort of sump bypass.
It is a long comfortably sized sandy crawl, a sort of tube full of
glacial sand and silt. The easy digging is from the post sump side,
hence the pumping out of the sump to get lots of diggers through. For
some unknown reason I suggested Jimmy and I go in, after work, today
and pump the sump. The idea caught on so tonight’s trip is about 6 or 7
of us ( they keep moving so I lose count). In my tackle sac I have
a large pan, a stove, two gas cylinders, a lighter, a spoon, a water
bag and some cups. I am planning to avoid digging tomorrow by cooking
Lunch. The cave rigging was described as “Loose” by super Al in an
e-mail this week, top of the first pitch has a length of rope you could
skip with between bolts. Ah well dodgy rigging or not at least the rope
looks like it can take it! Only problem is the darn thing is so thick
it’s hard to thread your stop. I am last down as I cannot call “rope
free” with my voice problem, I am also slow as my breathing is not so
good, guess the same spasm thing wrecks that too. Once down at the sump
I dump off the kitchen bag and grab hold of the drain rod along with
the others and get pumping. The required action is a bit like hauling
in a rope, on the up stroke a column of water is lifted, and spat out
the end of the pipe. As each of us gets back ache or needs a rest we
shuffle around so there is always 3, 4 or 5 on the job. There seems to
be a constant call of ”just another 5 minutes will see us pumping air”
from Simon, who keeps crawling down the diminishing sump to check on
water levels. Seems like over an hour before things are about done
rather than 5 mins!! There has been another team come in tonight too,
they have gone up into the “Skylight passage” end of things to shift
bags of sand. Part of the enthusiasm for tonight has come from the
weather forecast, this is an excerpt from one of the e-mails I just checked the
weather with the Met Office (weather for grown-ups, not the cartoons
and dumbed-down nonesense of most weather websites) we are at present
experiencing the effects of an area of high pressure which will last
throughout Friday. However, there is a minor low approaching which has
a couple of fronts associated with it and which will bring rain on
Saturday night. My view is that we should be OK for digging on Saturday
and that we should make the most of it by pumping on Friday. Sunday
digging will probably be OK but may need a fair bit of pumping on
Sunday morning. We need people for Friday evening pumping and the more
the better. It is very hard work with any less than five people and so
far we only have three. Jimmy's buying the beer afterwards for all
those who pump. It being around the
witching hour we make our way out, the Loose rigging actually makes for
speed on the pitch heads, as it is possible to sort of swing off early
onto the traverse. I do find the thick rope harder to prussik on, its
the pushing the jammers up it that takes all the effort. No problems
finding our way off tonight, its cold but clear, things are a bit
sloppy underfoot as is usual for this walk, but no slips or mishaps. It
is well past my bedtime so I am happy to let Jimmy drive to Ribblehead.
It takes only moments to pop up a pop up tent and install the sleep
mats n bags. Its cold, very cold, and I am glad we have the winter
sleeping bags here. This is the first time this autumn I have used the
big winter bag, and it still amazes me how quickly I warm up in it, and
indeed how well the tent warms up, but I am sure that is because Jimmy
is a human central heating unit! We have a box with a couple of bottles
of “posh” cider, some bread and crisp type things and a few other
goodies. The cider and the crisp sandwiches will do us fine till
brekkie. Zzzzzzzzz Saturday morning I
gradually drift into life to the sound of Jimmy talking to someone. My
head in its sleepy state runs thru thoughts, have we got guests? None
that I remember, besides I do not recognise the other voice and it does
not sound too friendly. Guess I should turn over and look? Ah Jimmy is
talking to a closed tent door, that’s ok then?? Turns out it was a
national park warden telling us “you can’t park there” in camping
terms. So we pack the tent up and go for brekkie, once the guy is long
gone. Jimmy is well miffed about it, I am too but not surprised, just
because folk have camped here for generations does not mean some
jobsworth is not going to harass you in your bed. Maybe the crunch of
the crisp sandwich was disturbing the peace last night! Somewhere about 11.00
we are driving up a wet Masongill lane, there are cars everywhere in
the pumping station area. I press on up the lane, half asleep, not in
dif lock, and Rudolph slides sideways into a ditch! Oh I am having a
great morning! At least there are lots of strong cavers around to help.
After attempts to gain traction fail a series III SWB comes to the
rescue and with Rudolph reversing and that pulling we are soon on the
lane again. That slows us down getting to the hole, especially as I now
feel fairly cross with myself, for making such an elementary error. Still there is lunch to
cook and lots of cavers to cook for so I had better get on with it.
Jimmy meets up with old friends, and their new friends so we all walk
up the hill, muddier and sloppier than yesterday, in persistent rain.
The plan was to straggle out on the walk to make sure we did not have a
big queue at the pitches, of course it did not work! In the shakehole
we all don kit and enter the hole in procession. It soon becomes
apparent that Jimmy’s friend Brian has a couple of SRT novices to sort
out as well as a fair bit of luggage to carry. Brian’s
wife Chris is a caver but has not done much on string, so I offer to
“sandwich” her between Brian and me, so that Brian can look after
Silvia, their German acquaintance who is caving with an ATC instead of
a stop and does not seem to know the first thing about SRT. There is no
way I am volunteering to look out for the ill equipped, over confident
Silvia. Jimmy helps Brian get the guy into some sort of working rig-up,
then Jimmy shoots of down the pitch. I, despite having virtually no
voice, am instructing Chris. The rigging is a bit odd at the top of
pitch 2, so I sit on the rope at the top of it and haul Chris in as she
descends and clip her to the Y hang to save her a lot of effort. I wait
at the bottom of pitch 2 (Dong) for ages, Chris is struggling with
something but I cannot tell what. Brian comes down to her and she is
soon with me. Turns out she could not get the thick, stiff, “bluewater”
rope out of her stop. I get her stop off this time as she is having the
same problem. Of we go along the traverse and meet Jimmy at the bottom
of Bell pitch, this time Chris gets her stop off with just a little
help. Now Chris may be a bit
slow on the SRT but once in the streamway, she and Jimmy are away,
leaving poor voiceless me struggling. I do not feel great, my breathing
is all “broken up” and I feel all uncoordinated. I get to the duck to
find Chris has come back to see where I am. The duck is OK at present,
so thru we go, Chris for a second time. They are off again, the water
looks murky now, I get a feeling that I have overestimated my health
and fitness today. Its time for me to go back! The water is getting
worse and I am not in great form, but I cannot catch Jimmy and Chris,
so plod on till I find them waiting for me. I tell Jimmy I am going out
as I do not feel up to fighting these water levels. Jimmy and Chris
decide to come out too. Brian is soon met
coming in, sans the German, to see how Chris is doing. I think to
collect her and take her out, the water IS coming up, no doubts now.
The duck is passable, but Jimmy needs to do it helmet off, I made it no
problem in mine but I have a small head and lid. I suggested Brian sped
back to Silvia and his makeshift SRT rig, whilst Jimmy and I looked
after Chris. In fact what is happening is we are all queuing at pussy
pitch, Brian choosing to hold back to help Chris off the pitch. We have
another 4 or 5 behind us bailing out, Well was impassable, so they are
heading out too. The top of pussy tells a story, the little cascade is
a torrent, passable by bridging in the rift, slipping not an option! I
find a niche for a rest, and wait for Jimmy to join me, he is looking
strong and moving well, I feel better with him close by. We continue to
the always wet chamber at the foot of Bell, it is a maelstrom of water
and howling gales. Brian is up the pitch and Chris is doing her best to
get up, but is not so fast as she is not used to SRT and the rope is
horrid thick Bluewater stuff. Jimmy and I are hugging the rock in the
least dense area of the torrent, very aware of loosing heat, but there
is nowhere safe to wait but here. Those behind us retreat to the niche.
Rope free never sounded so good, but still I make safety checks and
then set off too fast and get out of breath and with no rhythm so stop,
take one breath, then make myself take a steady but sustained pace.
Brain very much in gear, I go thru the moves rehearsed in my head and
basically walk off the pitch head with no drama. I give two strong
whistle blasts for Jimmy and he shouts to say he has got the message.
Off the traverse , in the chamber I find Brian, fretting whether to
take his bags and or car keys up the next pitch, he has sent Chris up
already. He goes without anything, with me holding the rope as far out
as possible, struggling to keep purchase with my wellies. Jimmy joins
me and we get out of the spray to catch breath and assess things. There
are two others who make it up Bell, James and Stacey, Stacey holds the
rope for James in the same way I did for Brian, and off up Dong he
goes. Things are getting bad fast, cobbles are flying about in the
waterfall. Jimmy suggests we look for a safe dry place to wait it out.
I crawl up a side passage and find a small niche, Jimmy and I start
preparing to make ourselves at home. Stacey decided to join us and
Jimmy ushered her into the more sheltered area we have found. We
shamelessly raid Brians bags, which I only just managed to stop from
being washed away a few minuets earlier. We have food and survival
blanket ourselves, Stacey has one of those “bodybag” shaped polythene
things. Brian has donated extra food and a tackle sac to lay on. We settle down to Jimmy
giving survival advice from his Artic training and try not to shred my
foil blanket. We are all cold, in the true sense of the word, but not
in any danger as long as we keep our heads and act thoughtfully. Along
with the cobbles and the water, Brian abs back down, a brave move to
collect food and suchlike for Chris and James, they are OK where they
are and he will brave it back up to them. We, that is Brian, Jimmy and
I, assess whether we could all fit in this side passage, but decide
not, its small for three and could not take six. Brian took a lot of the
food up but left some too, he had a lot in that bag! We settle down,
with Jimmy talking about his British Antartic Survey days, to Stacey
who goes out there in a few weeks time. Stacey is half way thru her
training, and we are now seeing this as good training! We check on each
other, eat about once every hour or two, shuffle about occasional. I am
a bit concerned about Stacey, she is cocooned in this bag thing which
stops her moving around much, Jimmy and I have both had a couple of
“visits” to the chamber to assess things and have a pee. It is a good
sign that I have warmed up a fair bit and have no problem with zips
etc, but am glad I have the “sheepee” ladies weeing aid so I do not
have to undress too much. I hear something...
sounds like caver movement above? I nudge Jimmy to pop out and shout
Brian to see if its ok to go out. It takes a while with my lack of
voice and Jimmys poor hearing for him to pick up that I heard
something. He shouts eventually but to no reply. The water flow has
started reduce for sure, the pitch looks well passable now. Question is
do we go for it and risk getting cold n wet again, or wait for Brian to
let us know its ok to get out, or those below us to come up possibly.
If it was just the two of us we may well have done, but I am not sure
Stacey is quite as OK as she says, I suspect she is rather
uncomfortable in her plastic bag, but it is keeping her core
temperature OK. We declare a food break, one of those compressed raw
fruit and grain things with the texture of MDF but a good energy
profile. I treat poor Stacey to a full half of it, she politely claims
to like it. Jimmy does some penguin noises and Stacey and He talk about
Byrd Island. I sort of drift off, its well past my bed time, next thing
I know Brian and Richard Bendall ( a friend of mine) are in the chamber
with us and its clear to go out. How are we? Do we need
food and drink? What is the situation further down? We give info as
best as we can, I am fine and am into my SRT kit swiftly. Stacey is a
bit wobbly when she wriggles out of her bag so takes some hi energy
food and sweet coffee from the guys. Jimmy is still sort of looking
after the two of us, and tells me to go out if I am ready. At the top
of the rope is Simon, another friendly face, this is like friends and
family, all so relaxed too. We are passing each other on rope like it
was a training exercise. By the time I reach the surface I lose count
of how many friends I have been given a helping hand by. The last being
our very own Super Al! In the shakehole I stop for a Jam butty and hot
coffee, most welcome, and answer the docs questions. Jimmy, ever the
gentleman, let Stacey get herself together and come out next, before
following on himself. James has waited for Stacey, and now all four of
us walk down to Mason gill lane, which is a mass of vehicles and
people. We do the debrief bit at one of the Landys and then its back to
Rudolph, change and get that cab heater going! We work out that it was
about a 6 hour hole up in the cave. On the way down we find a CRO landy
well and truly in the ditch! No wheels touching the ground! A definite
tractor job. At least I did not get mine that stuck. Jimmy gets no say in
what happens next, after drinking a litre of milk between us, and
eating a very large bag of fruit, nuts n seeds, I drive us to my home
and fire up the heating full blast! I just send a brief, “we are ok”
e-mail, and then its huddle under a couple of thick quilts fully
dressed. No lasting effects, but I have replaced my space blanket and
given Jimmy one too, them things work!!! Janet [Here is the email
Janet sent after she got home.] Hi there was a
flood pulse and subsequent rescue Saturday, at ireby cave .Jimmy
and I got out of Ireby, fine and well, if a bit cold and
knacked, and @ 3am got home. We found a comfortable enough dry
passage to sit things out, in between pitches 2 and 3, for
about 5 hours until the rescue lads gave us the all clear to make our
own way out. I am not sure what happened further down the cave, but
sounds like one lass was going to be assisted or hauled out from the
pitch below our hole up place. we have not had any
details from the Duke Street (bottom of the cave) end of
things yet, but we took "the kitchen" in on Friday night
with about 10 packets of soup, I guess there will have been enough
water to make it up with, if a bit gritty ( there is a cloth to filter
it in the stuff). Looks like the
connection is still a way off, otherwise there would have been no need
to dive out the two guys beyond the sump. We were the first group
"found" and I was first to exit. This I did unassisted and Sana in
corpus mentis. Richard Bendall was the first team member
down and it was like social gathering on the way out as I
know most of the guys who were in the first team in. Jimmy
and myself along with Stacey, our "room mate" for the event could have
exited prior to the teams getting there but decided to stay warm and
safe rather than getting chilled, as we did not know what the situation
was higher up and if the ropes were intact ( there had been some
boulders flying down dong pitch above us @ the height of
things) It was all very relaxed
with most concern being for those further down, and for one very cold
lass holed up near the bottom of Bell. We were, between us, well
enough equipped and had the advantage of Jimmy being well versed in
survival training from his "British Antartic Survey" days and Stacey
half way through her training for the same. There was a lot of penguin
talk between them!! CRO had lots of LRs up
there as did UWFRA, one of the CRO ones landed up stranded in the same
ditch, but further up, that Rudolph had slid into at midday.
Rudolph was rescued by a series3 88 21/4 diesel, and his own power to
assist, plus about 8 cavers, The CRO one was stuck fast with all
wheels of the ground. Usual thing, the ditch wall was sodden and just
gave way. What an exciting little
weekend! Luv Janet Caption Competition
This month's picture:
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The next
two albums are
recently bought, I seem to have missed this period for some reason
(Girlfriend/wife perhaps!) so making up for lost time 
One of my
favourite
Folk albums is Nic Jones: Penguin Eggs good songs and
brilliant guitar work – so good I have got it twice both on vinyl and
CD.
