Here is a very incomplete list of some of the trips the Eldon have been up to recently.
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- Details
- Written by: Rob Eavis
- Hits: 3979
Report by Jim Thompson
Cavers: Mike Annesley (EPC), Jim Thompson (EPC)
I thought it was going to be another one of those nights when Mike called me at the office. ‘Do you really want to go caving tonight?’ You see there are just some days when all I want to do after a long day staring at reports and documents, all I really want to do is sit down and sink a quantity of ale to blast away the stresses and mundanity of the day past. Other nights, I can’t get out of the office fast enough and feel like an amphetamine crazed dog with two dicks, if you can imagine that. I think I’d rather not now I’ve mentioned it! Anyway, today was not a two dick day and I felt like sh*te, and was having a sh*te week so I was expecting yet another night leaving Crumble and Beza for another day and feeling guilty for not going underground, thus failing to maintain my 2 night a week average. I was starting to get annoyed with myself, it seemed that the last 3 times I’d been intent on bottoming Nettle, and made arrangements days in advance, and sorted the ropes and even divided up the gear for quicker rigging, I’d somehow not made it. Still, if Mike wasn’t feeling like caving, I wasn’t about to argue. When Mike phoned later I found myself feeling really motivated again, so we quickly agreed that we should just get on with it. An early start was thwarted as I’d forgotten Mike’s wellies, which I’d borrowed the week before, but eventually, we reached the lay-by and were soon walking up the hill toward the pothole.
As Mike had rigged the entrance pitches the previous week, we agreed that I would take that role, and he would continue to the bottom of Beza shaft, from where I would have the unenviable task of derigging. I soon found my feet on the rope, metaphorically speaking, and in no time at all I was laying upside down in the flats, looking up at the P-bolt which protects the step across the pitch head of the Grand Canyon. On the top of the Bottle pitch, I had been disappointed to see a pair of bright shiny Petzl hangers, loose on their threaded bolts which protruded a long way. I wondered why anyone had bothered; particularly as the rest of the pitch is fitted with discreet, functional P bolts. I noticed that there was a lot more water dripping than the previous visit, and it lent a more ‘alive’ atmosphere to the place. I was soon joined by Mike, and proceeded to rig the next Y hang and drop the short way into the boulder choke underneath which is the impressive Elizabeth shaft- Derbyshire’s deepest natural shaft. Mike took the lead at this point, and as I perched upon a boulder near the pitch head, I was appalled to see spent carbide dumped all over the place. It wasn’t just dumped in one place, or particularly discreetly; rather, it seemed to have been thrown up the walls, into crevices and in a huge pile next to me. I could hear Mike rattling tackle and scraping his way down the pitch, and peered over to see the faint glow of his lamp in the narrow rift beneath the boulder on which I sat, suddenly realising that I wasn’t in the safest position- should I slide off the boulder I would find myself dropping through a small hole and down the pitch itself! Fortunately I had my long cowstail clipped to the belay, so I rolled a fag and thought about other things. After a longer wait, I became a little impatient as I had started to feel cold, so was glad to hear Mike bellow ‘rope free!’ from the depths. I quickly got set up on the rope, checked my Stop, and set off downwards. Upon reaching the small hole, I realised that I would have been very unlucky indeed to fall through it- it was an awkward squeeze through, where I had a bit of difficulty squeezing the handle on the Stop, but eventually after a bit of grumbling, I found myself popping out into an impressive narrow rift which had water trickling down the flowstone covered walls. I continued past a couple of easy deviations, however there were still a couple of rub points at intervals which twanged disconcertingly on the rope. I reached the point where Mike sat on a small ledge across which the rope crossed, rigged off a spit in the centre. I wondered what a comparative pain in the arse it must have been when all the rigging had to be done using 8mm spits, which had to be attached by hand using a spanner. As Mike continued to the bottom of Beza shaft, I sat uncomfortably trying to avoid the cold dripping water, which occasionally ran down my neck. The manoeuvre across this ledge was a little awkward- it was necessary to climb over a constriction through which I couldn’t pass my toes, and as I slid head first towards the next pitch I was glad to be on the ropes! By the time I touched down, the character of the cave had changed. The rift continued down a loose slope - ‘The Shakes’, and I followed Mike to the bottom of the handline, starting to feel cold and wet by this time. At the bottom, a fairly large chamber opened out above us, and there were a couple of low openings through which I knew there were ways on- one, ‘The Sting’ forms the connection with the bottom of Elizabeth shaft, the other is the continuation into Red River passage and the awkward looking Dratsab, which when read backwards gives an indication of the nature of the crawl! Tonight though, we would be going no further. Neither of us wore a watch, but I had a feeling that we were a long way from home, had a long way back to climb and derig, so further exploration would have to wait till a longer day. In addition I had a feeling that we would be pushing it if we were to get to the pub in time, so I took no time in ushering Mike back off to surface whilst I sorted out the tackle bags ready for the derig.
Once the rope was free, I started quickly jugging upwards, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the return journey was in fact easier than the abseil. This was because I could bridge across the walls, use handholds and generally help myself out. The tackle bags were empty at this stage so there was nothing holding me back. The hole at the top of Crumble was also far easier to climb out of, and soon enough I was passing an empty bag to Mike and carrying on straight up the entrance pitch with 100 metres of rope hanging off me, not really noticing it apart from in the Narrows, where I had to kick the bag free of constrictions a couple of times. I began to sniff the fresh air near the top of the shaft, and knew I could relax a little, as I knew Mike was some way behind me, and I took the final few metres at a leisurely pace. Unfortunately, with not many more metres to go, I gave my already injured knee a slight knock on the wall. The pain was out of all proportion to the impact- I’ve whacked my head harder in the past and not really noticed. This time the agony rifled through my knee like a bullet, and I slumped onto the rope choking back the vomiting reflex it had induced. I made a mental note to see the physio about this, and dangled a few minutes longer whilst the pain subsided. I had to swap feet in my foot loop, as the injured knee had lost the ability to work, and eventually I resorted to free climbing the walls and sat a few moments on the ledge beneath the cap of the shaft.
I climbed out of the lid into the windy night and grabbed the phone- 11.30 pm, we’d missed the pub! Oh well, no point in worrying now as I still had to wait for Mike, so I rolled a fag and stood shivering in the breeze as the moisture sapped the warmth from me. It was nice to be out in the open again despite the chill, so I didn’t bother climbing back to shelter under the lid. After what seemed like an eternity as I shivered in the wind, Mike’s rattling got louder and he appeared at the pitch head. We packed the last bit of rope away and raced off down the hill, slipping and sliding on the wet mud full of sheep’s hoof prints. Back at the car, I was pleased to have finally got to bottom of Beza shaft without any fuss. We shook hands and congratulated each other on a job well done, and began the drive back to Sheffield as the car warmed up and the dark night slipped by.
- Details
- Written by: Rob Eavis
- Hits: 3982
Report by Jim Thompson
Cavers: Bog (EPC), Pete Pollard (EPC), Nige Strong (EPC), Jim Thompson (EPC)
I’d decided it would be a good idea to get back down the lower series and have a decent look round, considering that I had been in Bagshawe about 30 times in the last 10 months, and only been in the Lower series once, when Stick showed Mike and I round on our first visit. I thought it would also be a good idea to have some background knowledge of the route before taking a couple of hot women down there in a few weeks time. Well, somebody’s got to do it!
It was to be Bog’s first time in the lower series, and I thought it would be a good opportunity for Pete to be introduced to Bagshawe too. Mr Strong made up the team, and I felt slightly relieved that someone else had turned up who would know the way round. Or not, as it turned out…..
We descended the steps down to the Dungeon, taking it slowly as I tried to show Pete all the bits of prettiness on the way down, the mined vein and the stemples in the roof, and we made a short detour into Calypso cave too. Upon reaching the Dungeon, Bog and Nige dropped the ladder down the pitch while I explained the morphology of the cave passage to Pete and told him about the dig. He looked unimpressed (about the dig not the cave)! At this point it may have been sensible to go down the ladder and check that the way out of the Dungeon was clear, but, eager to get caving we shot off back up the steps into Agony crawl. It’s strange how cave all seems straightforward and linear to me whenever I’m following someone. When I’d been here with Stick many months ago, I hadn’t paid any attention to the various possible directions in this low bedding. I squeezed on in the most likely looking direction, finding the going much tighter than I remembered it. At a little hole, I squeezed through and found myself wondering why lights had been fitted through here, away from the main cave passage. Hmm, actually, this was the main passage. Duh! I reversed the squeeze and Nige took the lead. We soon found ourselves dropping through the hole in the roof, the Hayloft, and we were finally in the Lower series at last. I knew that in order to reach the other exciting parts down here, the way on was to the right, so off we went, through Prospero’s cave, at one point stopping to admire the really metallic looking chert splattered all over the limestone. It isn’t really splattered, but looks like a load of metal melted amongst the rocks. We eventually reached another familiar sight- a big iron bar sticking out of the wall on the right. This was the entrance to Straw cave. I’m not sure how Straw cave got its name, probably something to do with farming I expect. The cave is a bit of a low crawl, decorated very nicely on the right hand side by a lot of straw stalactites and columns. From here, a climb down some calcited blocks leads down to a lake, and just beyond this a small stream flows in and away down the passage. We followed the stream, and entered a just lower than walking height, very straight phreatic tube. I think from looking at the survey that this may have been heading north, but I couldn’t be certain. Either way it ended in another pool of water. Nigel walked into this and nearly disappeared up to his neck!
It had become apparent by this time however, that we weren’t heading for the Dungeon. We headed back towards the phreatic tube, not really sure where we were or which was the way on to the Dungeon. We went round in circles, looking here and there, and following various prints in the mud and the polished flow and broken stal on the floor, to no avail. I took the leader’s role and decided we were going to retrace our steps back to Prospero’s cave because I had suddenly remembered, that the Dungeon was in the opposite direction to Straw cave! Feeling more confident now, I opted for the sporting route and went through the lake, having to go chest deep in the water, howling and panting with the cold. I thought we’d better find our way out now or we’ll be freezing! We passed a couple of features recalled from the way in, and appeared back next to the iron bar- right, now we were back on track. I headed straight off in the opposite direction to the one we had arrived in, finding a stooping sized, water-worn passage, the dark limestone being intersected by white bands. After some distance, the passage became muddy and gritty, and evidence of recent water flow showed on the mud’s surface. This then led to a steep bank of deep mud, which dropped into a scummy brown pool. Ah, the Dungeon! Sh*t! The water was up to the roof and not looking at all inviting. We should have gone down the ladder first! Oh well, off we went back up to Agony crawl, me going first through the hole in the roof as by this time Nigel’s lamp had failed. The crawl was just as enjoyable on the way out, and we were soon back in the main passage. We returned for the ladder, and Pete and I climbed down to see the water, up to the roof on this side too. When I bent to pick up the ladder at the top, my knee gave an almighty crack, which everyone thought was a rock or something, and I writhed in pain for a few seconds, before I’d realised there wasn’t any. In spite of this, I was feeling great after such an interesting trip, where we had managed to get a good look at a lot of the cave- it was probably a good thing that we’d been slightly disorientated for a while. I went at a run through the rest of the passage and stormed up the steps, not feeling knackered at all, which makes a nice change. We adjourned to the White Hart, where the beer was as welcome and refreshing as ever!
- Details
- Written by: Rob Eavis
- Hits: 3928
Report by Jim Thompson
Cavers: Steve (Stik) Rider (EPC), Jase Rider (EPC), Pete Pollard (EPC), Carl (Bog) Bergmann (EPC), Jim Thompson (EPC)
A few of us met at the Knotlow triangle for a fun little trip in Hillocks Mine. The idea was to give Pete a bit of SRT practice, and for me, at least, it came in pretty useful too. The way we rigged everything meant that all 3 pairs present could do a couple of different through trips. Bog and I initially rigged and dropped the Whalf Engine shaft, meeting up with the rest at the bottom junction. Nigel and Pete rigged the Whalf climbing shaft whilst Stick and Jase had come in via the ladder pitch and climbers. We said hello and passed each other on our way back out.
From there, one team went back up the engine shaft, another up the Whalf climber, and Bog and I out via the climbing route and old coffin level (apparently the longest of it’s kind) to the oil drum entrance. We bumped into Lee Langdon from the Masson CC who showed us the way as I wasn't sure I could remember it, although I did as it turned out. The climbs back up the hand picked shafts were thrutchy little affairs and great fun.
Back at the top we passed Pete and Nige who were just making their way into the oildrum entrance, and I then dropped the Whalf climbing shaft, passing Nigel's frugal rebelays with interest! It seems however that the others had viewed my 'extended Y hang' with similar surprise!
Once down, I jugged back up the 180m engine shaft, cursing Bog who had wisely elected to wait for me at the top! The fine free hanging pitch which was a breeze to abseil down on the way in, is a bit trickier to get back up- the rope boings all over the place making prusiking a tiring effort. Eventually however, I reached the top where Bog was waiting, and expertly climbed up the ginging past my perfectly rigged Y hang, wondering what the rest were on about. If there had been no holds in the ginging I suppose it would have been a different matter…. Oh well, I knew that in the first place!
Once derigged, we were met by Stick and Jase who had already got changed and were wondering where we'd got to. In the end it turned out that we had been quicker than Pete and Nige, who had got confused in the mine and done a couple of circles before finding their way back to the shaft and getting out. Once we saw steam coming out of the shaft and heard voices, we knew they were on their way, so Stick and Jase left us to it as they had to get home. I ran back to the car as I was freezing in my damp suit, following the previous night’s dig in Bagshawe. Luckily for us, we just got to the Bull's Head in Monyash at 1 minute to 11, but the kind landlady let us stay for a couple anyway. As usual, it was well appreciated after that long, bouncy climb out of the engine shaft!
- Sidetrack Cave - 04/01/2003
- Birks Fell Cave, Wharfedale - 21/09/2002
- Lancaster Hole -> Wretched Rabbit, Lancaster Easegill system - 27/04/2002
- Croesor-Rhosydd - 02/06/2002
- Eldon Training Workshop - 27/01/2002
- Braida Stomp Weekend (Tatham Wife Hole & Lower Long Churn) - 24/11/2001
- Eyam Dale House Cave - 09/08/2001
- James Hall’s Over Engine Mine (J.H.) - 21/01/2001
- Jug Holes - 29/12/2000
- Lancaster Hole - 18/11/2000
- Bar Pot - 18/11/2000
- Ogof Ffynnon Ddu (OFD), South Wales - 24/09/2000
- Little Neath River Cave - 23/09/2000