After a long abstinence, I suddenly had the urge. The urge to dress up in strange clothing of a rubber or furry nature; so on Saturday afternoon, in the privacy of my own bedroom, I pulled on my wetsuit for the first time in about four years. I know I've always had pale skin, but I was sure that my feet shouldn't really be that shade of white. Yes, my wet suit had SHRUNK! So, with my furry suit packed, I prepared for the next day's coach trip to the Hill Inn (oops, I mean the caving area of Chapel-le-Dale).
On the bus we were all in for a surprise for, as well as myself, there was also Malc Hudson on the bus - also going caving. He had must have decided that it was about time his wife, Anne, learned the wonders/idiocies of going underground. On the way up, Anne was quizzing me about how long I'd been caving, asking if me and Malc had started together.
"No", I replied. "I'm not that old!"
This immediately gave me a head start in the insult game, of which I took full advantage. It makes a welcome change to find someone with even less hair than me.
Dropping the walkers off in Clapham, they arranged to meet us at the Hill Inn at about 5.15 - and we knew that they'd start their walk in the cafe - so we made our first stop at Bernies. After a bite to eat, we continued on to the Hill Inn car park. While everyone else wimped out and got changed on the bus, it was left to the hard cavers (well, OK, Chris & me) to provide the entertainment for the passing motorists.
Having contemplated the merits and de-merits of doing Roaring Hole and Knackertrapper Hole on the way up, we set off for Hardrawkin! The scenery was fantastic. Everywhere was covered in snow. I was later told that there'd been no snow at Helwith at 9 o'clock the previous night and now it was several inches deep. The sun was shining and, between Ingleborough and Whernside, we couldn't have wished for a better walk to a cave (and no heavy bags of rope were needed, either!)
We reached the entrance without any problems. Skirting round the entrance to Lower Washfold, we climbed over the wall and down the slippery, icy slope into the main passage. We later found out that the bridge over Lower Washfold was merely a snow bridge! It was Anne's first ever caving trip and she was thoroughly impressed with the numerous cave cauliflowers growing there. I'd forgotten how well decorated Hardrawkin actually was. The calcite is amazing down there, especially in the roof.
Having reached the first pitch, young T8's feet were quickly turning into blocks of ice. I'd lost feeling in my hands a while back, so I had a certain degree of sympathy. The water was so cold, at one point my hands were actually burning!
We set off out and were soon back at the entrance where we met up with Malc and Anne, who'd come out earlier. Chris and Alan carried on past the entrance for a hundred yards or so to claim their second cave of the day, Lower Washfold! They then decided to make it a hat trick by bagging Great Douk, as well. I, on the other hand, heard a 'Black Sheep' calling me from behind the baa..r so I left them and came down the hill at a rapid rate of knots towards the Inn of Happiness.
Having changed, I joined Malc & Anne in the pub and discussed the cruelty of the gin trap on the wall. Malc thought it was disgusting, the way all those 'Gordons' bottles were being trapped as they frolicked in the meadows! Soon we were joined by the rest of the mob for a pint or two until 5.15 when the great debate began as to whether we had time for another before the walkers returned. The general opinion was that we had! So, after another quick half, we left for the coach - once more having to wait for the walkers, who we'd left in the bar! It's a hard life, this caving lark.
Them as were there: Chris Gill, Malc & Anne Hudson, Fiona & Phillip Durham, Chris Tate, Alan Bolton & me (I don't think I've forgotten anyone)
Kev Sheard
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
