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Present: Pete Hall, Ralph Leech, John Redhead, Leon Warrington, (Ian Walker)

Hey, hey Cripple Creek ferry
Butting through the overhanging trees
Make way for the Cripple Creek ferry
The waters going down it’s a mighty tight squeeze.
-Neil Young

It was the dinner meet and since scattering over the country it had been a while since our last underground session so we were keen to do a top trip. The Ireby round trip is already tipped to be a modern classic (making it in many ways the caving equivalent of the Fiat Panda Sisley 4×4. No? Just me then) so we thought that it’d tick all the necessary boxes.

Entering Ireby after a joking on the walk what a cock it would be to get back if it were misty, we dove into the Bubbles route to speed things up. The series of climbs to the pitchhead got us back into the caving mindset before trying to remember how SRT kits go together in the chamber before the traverse begins. Luckily, everyone remembered how things work and we were soon all down to the stream level, joining just below pussy pitch.

Ian left us here after pointing out the entrance to the glory holes and the beginning of Turtle Crawl on the right of the passage, 4 or 5 meters below where we popped out of Bubbles. Ian was off to rig the lower pitches ready for our exit before heading out to meet and greet the dinner guests.

Flat out, the four of us got firmly stuck into Turtle Crawl. The flat out passageway took us just shy of 45 minutes, but was nicely broken with some hands and knees relief every 15 minutes or so before popping into a (joy of joys) standing passage. A brief water stop and we bore left into some standing riftey passage ducking over and under jammed boulders and somewhat reminiscent of the main streamway. This passage ended in a comfortably sized chamber with some fantastic strata in the rock to the right.

Now while making for good caving, flat out passageway does no favours for snickers bars in the breast pocket so it was imperative that we ate them before the grit was ground irreversibly into the nougat. Don’t nuts disguise gravel nicely?

Swift break over, we dove into a series of rope ladder climbs and handline descents involving interesting contortions for the larger members of the group (that’s me and Leon then) to follow the rift along until a large nicely decorated chamber with taped off formations was reached. Our conversation turned to how pleasant the trip had been so far. From the talk preceding, we had expected a squalor-fest. Up to now the trip had simply been quite physically demanding. Now we entered the breakthrough point and at last it got a bit grotty with a good dribble of water, plenty of the sharp remains of capping and a bit of a downward squeeze. Not far beyond we got to a traverse over a big dark hole before a bit of easy passageway before Jupiter Cavern, a proper leg stretch and another mashed gritty snickers. Oh, and some warm tannicy sauce for those with the stomach to take it.

In Jupiter Cavern we found a survey of the cave which gave us some reassurance before following the chamber up to the right as it narrowed down into a muddy floored rift until we found the handline climb down to escalator rift. In the passage preceding the climb, there are several holes in the floor and it’s easy to kick good-sized chunks of mud down to those below. Not that this happened of course…

In the water, we headed downstream underneath Jupiter Cavern and followed the water as closely a possible until it dropped into jammed boulders. Here a squeeze over a worrying drop gave us a winding descent through the boulders until we were surrounded by solid rock again. At this squeeze, we were caught up by a group of three or four with TC. Once at stream level again, easy caving took us to Duke Street II and known territory.

We headed downstream following the water on its path to Notts pot, paddling through water just shy of ball deep. The water was shallower than the last time I had been there. I guess the heavy rain must have washed away the dam of digging sand. A knotted line headed up into skylight passage and a crawl through to Ireby I. Realising we were hard up on call out – the trip had taken us out of cave condition members longer than expected – we split up and Pete dashed for the exit (see his tale below).

The three of us following punched out into the misty evening at 20:20 (or time to see the optician). We had entered at just gone mid day, so the trip had taken us just over eight hours – a little longer than we had planned but on reflection bang on for our first trip for a couple of months. A committing trip – you don’t half feel a long way from the surface when deep in Ireby II – with more than a smattering of clean pretties the round is an absolute cracker and just what we needed. Well done and cheers to the Diggers!

Ralph

After a few delays on the Cripple Creek trip, we decided that to avoid missing callout, I should exit ahead of the others and inform our callout that everything was ok, just running late. I set off up bubbles pitch and was soon on my way through the entrance series. Once outside, I made my way up the side of the shakehole and onto the fell, only to find myself in a huge blanket of fog.

I’ve walked back from Ireby many times before and didn’t think the fog would cause me any problems; how wrong could I be…

I confidently lined up the reflective markers and set off, striding across the fell towards the far marker. Those familiar with the area will know that at the second marker post, the path branches; both go slightly up-hill, both curve slightly to the left as they go, however only one goes the right way.

As I reached the branch, I had a sudden loss of memory; which was the right path?

After some consideration I opted for the left-hand branch given that it was better trodden, should it be wrong I could always retrace my footsteps and try the other.

I walked, slowly now, following what seemed to be the path and after some time began to feel I was no longer following a path, but walking blindly into the fog and darkness. Despite the fact that I was still going up-hill and I knew I shouldn’t be, I kept hoping it was right and kept thinking just a little further till I see the wall.

The wall never came into view, I started to feel a little uneasy; not only would we miss callout, but I had the car key, so the others would be stuck, not to mention the fact that I’d be lost on the hillside barely able to see my hand in front of my face.

I had to find the shakehole again, at least then I would know where I was and the others would be more likely to find me.

Now completely disorientated, my chances of retracing my steps seemed slim, though I had one trick left up my sleeve; my left ear was cold, my right ear was warm.

By aligning myself such that the warm bits got cold and the cold bits became sheltered from the wind, I figured I couldn’t go far wrong.

I fell in a bog that I hadn’t met on the outward journey, but I had no choice but to trust my senses and keep going anyway and somehow it worked!

Through the fog I caught a glimpse of the reflective marker post!

I dived back down the shakehole and into the cave; our rope was still in the entrance, the others weren’t out yet.

This presented me with a dilemma; should I wait for the others so at least I’d have someone to get lost in the fog with, but miss call-out, or should I try my chances with the fog again and at least stand a chance of making it back to a phone before callout.

I opted for the latter…

Leaving the security of the shakehole was more than painful, once again I lined up the markers and set off, this time taking the right-hand branch. Shortly I saw another reflective marker shining back at me through the darkness and fog.

With confidence restored and the way on confirmed, my next concern was the others finding the right way too. Finally I had a sensible use for the little LED lights I’d had strapped all over my helmet; I stuck them in the ground marking out the path, spaced such that each was visible from the previous.

I was shortly at the style, from here I couldn’t go far wrong; just keep going down-hill, either you get to the track or the wall at the bottom of the field. Either way you have an obvious feature to follow back to the car.

I ended up wandering off to the right and meeting the bottom wall which I followed to the track. With callout fast approaching at best or maybe long gone (I hadn’t got the time on me) I rushed down the track and back to the car where I met Tom Clayton who lent me his phone to call Ian and call off callout.

I then had a rather unpleasant wait, hoping the others would find the way across the fell; fortunately, they did.

Pete