Yorkshire Subterranean Society

We wanted to raise lots of money for Max, the three year old grandson of a friend who has a rare and aggressive form of cancer. We wanted to do something extreme because we thought that would grab people’s interest. A parachute jump needed loads of organization and a bungee was too expensive.  My husband, Andy and daughter, Jessica, cave and although I’d never fancied it, it would grab people’s attention. So, eventually persuaded, eight of us women from the same school signed up and began collecting sponsors. We were a bit worried about drowning, getting stuck, walls collapsing, or creatures from the film ‘Descent’ but were reassured by the words “You’ll be fine. It’s a dry cave. Boy scouts do it.”

Definitions of dry on the Web:

The first problem was making our hats fit. For eight intelligent(!) women we struggled with the straps, the lamps and our hair. There was much hilarity because our suits were called beavers (we don’t get out much!) Then no one warned us townies that we had to walk through fields, up a steep hill - with animals- and poo and puddles. YUK! We held up our trouser legs to keep them dry – like it mattered five minutes later.

Alan and Andy were very reassuring when we began to scramble down the hill (there were no hand rails) and looked for the cave entrance. Although I do think Alan was a bit shocked that teachers knew so many bad swear words especially when he told us we would be underground for at least two hours. We also hadn’t realized that we had to climb up a waterfall! One of our party swore, called me a bad name because I’d said it would be dry and refused to move until we fed her a Mars Bar. This was a recurring theme for her whole caving experience.

Once in - it was a case of let’s get this done but we did begin to relax and even enjoy it a bit. Well once you’re wet you’re wet. Yes some of us couldn’t get up the waterfalls without a big push from behind (her wellies were full of water). Yes our hair went curly when we slipped and ended up fully submerged. Yes those curvy ones amongst us had a tight squeeze in places and yes our legs did ache when we were fighting the current (beats the gym any day). But my goodness what an experience when we began to appreciate the rock formations, the noise and the beauty when light filtered in from above.

The sense of achievement when we emerged was amazing. Some of us might even do it again. We turned up our noses at lady hikers who watched us leave the cave “We were proper adrenalin junkies now!” A quick strip by the cars, we were too cold for pride, a meal and a couple of ciders later sat by the fire in The Helwith Bridge we were very proud of ourselves. And so we should be, we raised over £900 for Max and hope that he will be well enough to visit Micky Mouse next year.