Yorkshire Subterranean Society

After rising and shining (thanks to the priest who rang the church bells at an ungodly hour), and a hearty breakfast (thanks to French cuisine) I headed off to the Gouffre Berger. I joined some other Irish on the walk in to the cave. They were all heading towards the bottom, and my goal was more modestly to get to camp 1 and back. Seeing as I was doing a shorter trip, I wanted to take it easy and enjoy the view, as it were, so I elected to do the trip by myself, basing my decision on the impeccable logic of 'Sure it's only another cave after all, and the route finding is pretty easy' (isn't it?).

Anyway, I gave the other 6 about 2 hours head start (ostensibly to ensure we wouldn't get bunched up on the pitches, but really because it was sunny, and the tea was flowing), before embarking on the jolly to Camp 1. Dropping the entrance series gave an immediate impression of the seriousness of the venture. Its one thing to see all those pitches on a survey, and quite another to drop pitch after pitch into a rather large abyss.

In the meanders, I met a group of 4 cavers coming out, which served to take from the experience of being the only person for miles, and then had my ears popped as the Dutch couple whooshed passed at about mach 2(ish)

Thence onward and downward until I arrived at the bottom of Aldos - I felt a bit nervous knowing that all that rope lay between me and the surface, especially seeing as I couldn't actually remember the last time Id done SRT in a cave - still, not to worry, eh?

I popped out from the perfectly reasonably sized chamber (large by Irish standards) at the bottom of Aldos into a properly large chamber/passage, called the Starless River. Downstream was a bit of a euphemism when I was there, simply because there was no stream, or river for that matter. Still, not to worry, and I headed, um, downhill for what felt like quite a long time before coming across some mud banks with a line attached to a small, coffin-shaped dinghy. Truly bizarre, but that's Lac Cadeaux in the dry for you.

A bit more dandering along and I saw another 2 cavers coming out - 1 was on carbide and he lit the cave really impressively, making it look like some demonic habitat, before appearing in the flesh and ruining the effect! After another bit of strolling (interrupted only by some more ear-popping, as the Dutch raced past on the way out), I came across the little general, then some more walking, and finally, the 'Tyrolean' which was nothing more than a thrutchy traverse on poor footing. I felt like asking for a refund!

At this stage Id given up looking for the other side of the chamber - my 14 LED was just not cutting the mustard in any way shape or form. Still, I knew I was on the 'Grand 'Eboulis' or 'Large Rubble Heap', so I couldn't be that far from Camp 1. I arrived there just in time to see yet another 2 English head off, while 2 more were getting their heads down. Solo trip my ass - this place was busier than the bus home from town on a Friday night!

I called up the entrance tent, checked the weather, and then headed for the 'jolly' part of the trip - Salle de Treize, and Salle Germaine. The formations were impressive in every sense of the word, go and see for yourself if you don't believe me! After my bit of touristing, I headed back to Camp 1 for some grub, and more chat with the surface, all the time to the background of Keith's snoring.

Then I headed off, back towards the surface. Up to now, things had gone according to plan, but this changed on the way out. At the top of 'Le Petit General' I elected to go straight (as you do) rather take the steep slope to the left. After a couple of minutes walking, I came across a steep wall which didn't jog any memories. I decided to take a closer look, just to be sure. Id checked both sides of the climb (by climbing up to near the top), and was on my way back down, when my handhold broke. It was at that precise moment I would have been very glad of some caving companionship! I fell about 2 feet before my other handhold stopped me and I got my feet onto good holds.

After beating a hasty retreat back to the top of the little general, I found the correct way on and proceeded onwards towards the pitches. En route, I managed to find the other meander in the starless river, as well as the entrance to the Gallerie de Petzl (on purpose of course!) Finally I found the bottom of Aldos right where Id left it, and started my ascent, upwards and outwards.

This was probably the least jolly part of the trip for me – my arms gave out quite early on in the venture and I was forced to rest after about every 10 prussiks. Still, I knew Id get there eventually, so I got on with it at my own pace.

At the bottom of Garbys I had a bit of a scare, as I heard a rumble grow louder above me. However, the rumble was soon accompanied by the sounds of gear being clipped on and off ropes, so all was well. I graciously allowed the 3 descending cavers to drop the pitch, while I tried to persuade some life back into my limbs with stern words.

The cruellest blow for me was Ruiz. Id forgotten about the 27 metre pitch, and it came as a blow to find it between the holiday slides and the entrance pitch. Dammed sneaky cave!

At the entrance tent I was plied with tea and some grub, and was even given ½ a sleeping bag to share. Pure luxury! What a cave!