Present: Lydia Miller, Tom Green-Plumb, Toby Graham
Duration: 4h30 + walk-in
Disclaimer: my hippocampus has the consistency of chicken soup and is about as useful, so take this trip report with a small amount of scepticism, you have been warned.
Having had less uptake on Sunday’s fresher trip to Long Churns (14 would have been a bit silly anyway) the tough decision was made to abandon Joe and go do something only marginally more fun than a 6th trip to dolly tubs. Chris had recommended Washfold Pot to me previously and this was deemed sensible: it was meant to be a shorter trip (≈5h), the drive from Durham was very reasonable, and we could park at the same place as Long Churns and laugh at Joe.
Tom pulled up in the bus at 7.45 sharp, no mean feat given he had been subjected to a house party the previous evening and had set his alarm for 6.15 (why???). Lydia had already been collected so I was treated to the blanketed back seats. Two quick stops later at the SU for batteries and Jet for cheap fuel (both diesel and coconut redbull), and we were underway. The drive passed quickly with intellectual conversation, including but not limited to questions such as can you put chickpeas in a chilli? and do pheasants or freshers have the worse sense of self-preservation when it comes to crossing the road?
We arrived to a sunny layby at 10-something and began lethargically suiting up. Apparently Sunday the 12th of October is Long Churns day, I watched with some amazement as 3 cars full of eager cavers and one minibus full of schoolkids attempted to join the 5 cars and one van already parked. It was at this point I discovered with great sadness that my wetsuit had began to disintegrate over summer and no amount of duct-tape could patch the holes ☹. An oversuit shortly followed and I got to experience the thrill of putting a triact on an srt harness for the first time; it really was a rollercoaster of emotions. Around now Chris kindly offered to be callout as we had no signal and hadn’t set one on the drive over (oops). Some small amount of faffing later where Lydia was called upon to help the freshers kit up and we set off. Despite a relatively short walk along the road and then up through a field you will be relieved to know there is still ample opportunity to complain, lie down in suspiciously cow-scented grass and get lost. We only had to cross one barbed-wire-adorned wall, which I did with grace despite whatever Tom or Lydia will tell you.
Eventually the entrance was located (it’s not actually hard to find assuming you follow the description) and helmets were donned. The cave begins with a short, somewhat slimy climb down to the stream which we would follow to its termination. After the entrance came an enjoyable walk down a twisty canyon to a calcite barrier. From here there’s a short climb up to a slot you push through then drop down behind the calcite barrier to a nice chamber. Whilst not overly tight, I have never before tried to squeeze through a hole that’s been lightly sandpapered and for a caver with surface area on the higher end of the spectrum this was not an experience I would rush to repeat. Feeling thoroughly abraded I started putting my srt kit on in the chamber as Lydia and Tom followed close behind. I’d nominated myself to rig the first pitch which was a grave error. Despite only being 10 metres of traversing into a y-hang, I spent the next 3 to 5 business days trying to wedge my limbs in this rift in such a way that I wouldn’t fall 50-ish metres down to the stream below but could also reach the bolts in the roof. One vicious bout of cramp later and I was on the descent. There’s a very obvious deviation a few metres down which I completely missed, and this meant I got to enjoy descending right into the plunging water. On the plus side I now had a water-cooled descender so didn’t glaze the rope as I plummeted the remaining half a pitch to the floor doing my best drowned rat impression. Having moved out of the spray at the bottom I found a rock to sit on and feel sorry for myself whilst Lydia and Tom descended the route. They did manage to spot the deviation and Lydia’s knife crab was repurposed, but it only prolonged the inevitable soaking received at the floor.
The passage was wider from here onwards. We once again followed the stream for a short time until it dropped away and some easy bridging followed to a pleasant 9m freeclimb back down to the stream. Using the in-situ is cheating and I’m pleased to report we all did it properly. A wet crawl follows immediately, maintaining the soggy theme of this cave, and this would be quite unpleasant had the weather been worse over the previous few days. The stream then drops away again and a little more traversing lead to a similar freeclimb. The description reports a chimney descent shortly after this point but when you’re in a rift full of holes this description isn’t super helpful. We reached a blockage and decided we’d missed it but I didn’t want to turn around so slithered down the nearest hole, Tom and Lydia back-tracked a short distance and found an alternative hole (the actual chimney) to descend. This meant I got to enjoy sitting by the pool at the bottom watching Tom get well acquainted with some blocks at the bottom of the chimney. In a cruel twist of fate I then got very friendly with a block squeezing down to the stream and suffered some mild discomfort for the next few minutes of stooping passage.
At last we’d reached the fabled second pitch (Tom had only asked if ‘this was the second pitch’ four times previously) which is a short 2m drop down to a round chamber. Having freeclimbed this I offered to rig the last pitches out of the generosity of my heart and not at all because I didn’t want to derig the first pitch. This turned out to be pretty depressing as once again you descend straight into a waterfall and get drenched, then onto a ledge and a rebelay before another dousing. You land spluttering into a very noisy but spacious chamber with the final sump at the far side. Tom and Lydia soon joined me at the bottom, and we decided that it was a rather abrupt end to the cave.
Given there was nothing to see we turned around pretty quickly and I got to enjoy several minutes being waterboarded trying to get my jammers on the rope and then use them. This was the first, and hopefully last, time I’ve done srt whilst blinded – a pair of swimming goggles should be an essential part of the kit packed for this trip. Tom joined me next looking damp with Lydia last having taken the executive decision to also not derig the first pitch. Although the experience is a bit miserable you can find solace in laughing at your fellow cavers as you watch them struggle up the cascade. Quick work was made of the return journey until the chimney where I tried to go back up the way I came. This turned out to be featureless and unreasonably hard with gravity working against me, I do not recommend going this way. Apparently the other way is easy; Tom and Lydia had a nice break while I was grovelling my way up this crack. After the wet crawl we met a group of 4 on their way down having done king pot the day previously. Major swag points to the guy who descended the in-situ by wrapping it over his shoulders and running down the wall – I know what I’m trying next time I’m at the YSS training wall. The first pitch followed and my last maltloaf was consumed while Lydia made her way up. I found the pitch easier in reverse and got to enjoy a nice nap in a little alcove when Tom was derigging, as did Lydia. The stupid grippy hole was avoided by wriggling through a much nicer bedding crawl (which is maybe probably the way you’re supposed to go given this is what the route description says). One short walk later and I was climbing back out into the sunlight. In fitting with the theme of the cave, I was passed the bags which then leaked water down onto Lydia and Tom as they climbed out.
Overall a successful trip best described as sporting, and a gentle introduction to blackbooking (yes, I did finally actually reach the bottom of one). The walk back to the car was thankfully less sweaty than the way up and changing was a quick affair despite having to hunt around on the floor for bits of wetsuit. Some biscuits were eaten and we were gone.
p.s. yes, you can put chickpeas into a chilli.
Toby Graham