Our last trip to Yorkshire before the summer expedition! Johns were lost, hopelessness f'ing-ed, notts and jingles potted, kindles booked and pennies whistled on a rainy but high value weekend at the NPC.

Another year has passed, and once again RON has reared it's ugly head in an attempt, in vain, to bring order and glory to our chaotic caving club. This year's AGM was sadly only the pre-cursor to the Union's dictat of a life-draining online ballot, but speecehs were had, and awards were won.

Now the results are in, we can announce that we do not have a THURST-ocracy or a millitary JULIEN-ta, but instead the two have combined powers to form the radiantly almighty Thulien, which by night mutates into the terrifyingly horrific Jurston.

Congratulation to the impending committee!

And, as always, our commiserations to the winners of the following awards:

Herman Herz, for near miss of the year: Laura for several incidents this year: Breaking here ankle at hidden earth, getting lost in Slovenia, and bolt climbing on nothing but cowstails, just to name a few.

For Evans' Sake, for creative use of bodily fluids: Jergus, for filling two whole wellies with nothing but sweat whilst returning to camp in Slovenia, and drinking from numerous stagnant pools that were presumably majority urea.

Prose and Cons, for propaganda of whatever form The second ever recipient of this newly introduced award goes to Ben Richards for his photography this year, and brilliant work filming Thurston grand day out. (watch it here: Thurston's GDO)

Items forgotten: bothy bags, minibus, little red book, the entirety of Remi's kit, any memories of exams and all inhibition.

A long cactus-filled roadtrip, pre-tour mitigations, and lots and lots of swimming. This article is filled with lavish trips to massive caves such as Su Palu and Su Bentu, mixed into a lot of faffle and partying with the mythical Bobo himself.

Our latest adventure took us deep into the heart of North Wales, the home of our very own president, to delve into the region’s rich mining heritage. No trip, however, is complete without a little vehicular drama, and once again, our minibus decided to give us trouble — this time with an AdBlue fault. The RAC came to our rescue, saving us from being stranded in the middle of the Welsh countryside.

Our annual first aid course, though uncharacteristically early in the calendar year. While most learned about various gruesome things that can happen to a human body, others took advantage of their smaller numbers to organise a trip to Fountains Fell and get some pizza, with varying levels of success.

Swildon's, Cider, (S)Weil's disease. An Old Lags' weekend in the Mendips, from the perspective of New Lags.

Ged is ded, long live Ged.

Snow Snow and more Snow. Despite all odds we even managed to go caving! A Sunday of laze, igloo building and sledging rounded off a fantastic weekend.

Christmas Dinner is made, Long Kin West ceases to exist, Trapdoor happens (many times), Knock felled. All in all a very successful tour!