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Yorkshire VII

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Alex Seaton, Ben Honan, Cecilia Kan, David Wilson, Jack Halliday, Jack Hare, Peter Ganson, Rhys Tyers, Stephanie Ford, Tanguy Racine

Saturday

Marble Steps: Alex Seaton, Ben Honan, Cecilia Kan, David Wilson, Peter Ganson, Rhys Tyers

Marble Steps was supposedly an old club classic that we seem to have forgotten about until quite recently. We had a trip there at the start of the year but I wasn't on it and due to, ahem, unforeseen circumstances they didn't have the rope to make it to the bottom.

We barreled up to the water works and ground to a halt on the cobbled path just shy of the Turbary road. Changing was pleasant, a grade 1 summer change at most. Ben and I had both committed the aerial google maps view of the area to memory but from the parking spot you can see, up on the fell, the copse of trees that surround Marble Steps. On top of that the path is quite clear (almost excessively so) if you choose to follow it.

We walked up, following the Ireby group. They turned off too early, leading us into knee-deep grass and moss. The actual path is rather extravagant paving stones and so there's no advantage to cutting the corner as we accidental did. Evenutally we rejoined the actual path and soon approached Marble Steps. The entrance is a large gully with a small (probably sometimes large) stream entering from one side.

We meandered down the dry side, finding some in-situ tat that got use almost all the way to the Gully Route pitch head. From the looks of the poorly hidden spade the rope goes as far as someones horrible dig. Ben started rigging the Gully route which drops straight of the edge of a ledge. I began rigging the Sidewinder route which involves rigging a traverse round to a window on the other side. It looks moderately indtimidating as the bolts ascend steeply up what looks to be a very slippery wall but once you're over there it turns out to be pretty easy.

Davey Dubz and Peter followed me into the window. Trailing the rope from the traverse I dropped a couple of short free climbable pitches to rejoin the small stream. Here we examined our rope. I decided that we definitely didn't have enough and that we should stop caving immediately. Peter said we should carry on anyway and it would work itself out. Peter turned out to be right.

The following pitch drops into the Main Chamber. A lovely 20m hang to a cute y-hang at the top of a slope. As you descend the slope the cieling comes down to meet you and there's some helpful bits of tat to deviate off. As I descended I could see Ben coming down the Gully route. It's a very sociable cave to rig! I landed in the main chamber a few minutes before Ben but waited and continued as a group.

A short pitch leads to the 'Lower Main Chamber' and from there a rifty passage leads off. Eventually you traverse over a small pit with the stream in and the next pit is Stink Pot. We had brought a 27m rope because our rigging guide suggested a 28m rope. A more recent rigging guide suggests 30m. Ben said he would rig conservatively.

I followed Ben down the first hang. The rope at the bottom leads into a traverse for the second hang. As I landed I shimmied right up to the bolt to see exactly how little rope we could get away with. Then as ben rigged below, I pulled the slack I'd created into the traverse line. Ben called up from below that he wasn't sure if we'd make it. I offered him an extra 3 meters and he agreed to make himself safe. I fed it through into the second hang.

Ben had replaced a rebelay with a deviation to save rope, unfortunately this was still causing a big rub point because the passage doubles back on itself and the rope rubbed on the overhang as you descended under it. I replaced the deviation with my now patented 'rebelay' on a sling. It has all the advantages of a rebelay (when you weight it it doesn't cause the rope above to rub) and the advantages of a deviation (it moves so you can make the rebelay really tight and people can still lock off).

We were now at the entrance to the Intestines. Ben decided he wasn't feeling up to rigging it as he stared at the shrinking passage so I took over. The passage deteriotes into a sideways crawl but only for a body length or two. Just before the next pitch there is a convenient "rigger's chamber" with enough room to turn around and place the bag out of the way. The backup bolt is here. The CNCC rigging guide makes a big deal of the pitch head being a flat out crawl but in reality from the rigger's chamber its a body length, relatively spacious, sideways crawl. Leaving the bag behind I wiggled in head first to rig and then turned round and went feet first to descend. There's a really nice ledge to stand on so its not even a particularly awkward pitch head to pass.

The landing is a small chamber, the way on a low dampish crawl. The next pitch again is only a body length or so into the crawl but its important to note that the backup 'thread' that the rigging guide recommends is right at the start of the crawl as I found out whilst awkwardly wriggling backwards. This pith head is more spacious than the last and should present no trouble.

Landing once again in a small chamber the way on is down a tortuous streamway. A load of water pisses in at this point from cracks in the cieling but its easy to avoid. The final pitch is a trifle compared to the other and I found myself quickly at the bottom contemplating some grim options.

Two ways on the bottom, a low wet crawl in silt, or a jagged looking sideways crawl. I had a cheeky look in the sideways crawl to confirm it went and then waited for the others. When Davey Dubz arrived I dispatched him into the wet silty crawl even he was unwilling to go very far into it. Alex and Cecilia dropped in reporting that Ben and Peter had bailed at the top so as a four we continued into the sideways crawl.

It's awkward but soon improves to hands and knees. A junction appears. Davey Dubz took the low road and I took the high. My route led up and up. Holes in the floor allowed me to see Davey Dubz grovelling in the crawl. Eventually I came to a small, high aven which I assume is the Ninety. I climbed back down one of the floor holes in time to drop in in front of Cecilia. We crawled further eventually finding Davey Dubz inserting himself into a sump. Classic Davey Dubz.

Finding the end of the cave quite dissapointing we began the journey out. Alex derigged all the way from the bottom and out Sidewinder. We met Ben and Peter in the main chamber. I took a photo, got to justify dragging the camera gear around. We swapped routes for the way out. The gully crew were quite keen as they claimed there was a dead sheep that they didnt want to see/smell again. The sheep didn't dissapoint. We first found its head, its bloated, maggoty, fungusy body was on a ledge 20m higher.

We were greeted by a wind swept fell on our arrival on the surface. A classic trip! I would definitely go back and I would defintely send other people to the bottom. The Intestines would make a nice confidence builder for someone that doesn't like tight pitch heads I think.

Rhys

My first caving trip of 2017. One sheep per cave, at different stages of their afterlife, but both heads made further progress than the bodies on the journey to underworld. One crawl per day, intimacy of various degree to the cave, but both awkward and lugging a small blue bag, only, thankfully. No regret except for not bothering to bring my camera.

Marble Steps has a pretty name for a cave, and a pretty entrance of lush green, plus a red patch which was light reflecting off Ben's PVC oversuit as he rigged down the wet (or gully?) route. A mix of abseiling and scrambling on loose boulder slope to go down to the main chamber, with sheep body and other bodies very well camouflaged on the way. I stared very hard at the layer of rocks underneath as I approached the sheep level, having been warned by Alex not to land on the sheep body. Part of the warning was I wouldn't be able to recognise it until I was right next to it. Indeed it wasn't until I passed the rebelay that I saw the neck and the dribble down the pitch, then suddenly I could make out the legs and the body that I thought were boulders and twigs. Strands of soaked white and motionless flies on the cave wall were harder to miss.

On we went, except Peter and Ben decided to chill instead. I received optional instructions from them to deliver precious rigging guide to Rhys and Dave in Intestines, and pick up the camera bag on the way. I completed both. I decided to turn around. I lowered myself until I was almost lying flat in the tube, rotated π, sat up, to found Alex on two logs that had somehow found their way to this tight passage. There was no way out of this dark place. I resumed my crawl forward, towards the pitch head I could not see. I received instructions from Dave to go feet first into this bend in the crawl, then feel for a ledge on the opposite wall as I move into the pitch, and before that to untangle myself because I was on the wrong side of the rope I was clipped into. It would become frustrating to have to untangle myself without seeing the problem, therefore I decided to U-turn into the pitch. Folding myself very carefully without letting my left knee touch my chin, because I had assigned it to be sheeped in puddles where required, I rolled into the pitch, which I could now see was a smooth short tube. Nothing exciting. On we went. It was all unappealing; More crawls, another tight pitch head, sheep water. Only Dave's verbal caving entertained me, "Urgh wet bum......okay I am at the pitch head......(lots of grunting)......ahhh it's my cow's tail......(grunt grunt)......finally.......arrggghhhhhh............"

All this grimness ended with a sump. No pretties, no big chamber. Very disappointing. We turned back . As I prusikked up, the rope kept popping out of my pantin. I must had forgotten how to cave. At the pitch head I moved into the tight passage, and as I leaned out to unclip myself, I felt something in my left knee moved, next it was hit by a weird pain. I slowly shuffled out to free the rope and let Rhys up, then dragged myself back in along the line. The pain gradually died away. I tried to stand, no problem; I tried to bend my knee a bit, no problem; I tried to bend my knee and climb up an obstacle, yes problem. This made the return trip slightly more interesting, especially getting off the smooth tube pitch. Back at the main chamber, we had Soreen. This was new for me, but Soreen itself asked to be squished on the package. It all made perfect sense. Rhys wanted to take photos of people climbing up the different route, and to flash-attack Ben. Both tasks were completed. Meanwhile Jack came to woohoo. His group was rained out from Abbey. Sound travelled very far in this part of the cave, which was great for listening to Dave's verbal derigging, to which Rhys meditated in the most challenging yoga pose where his entire body was lifted off the ground. My spare light had disintegrated inside my furry so I had to fish out parts from the sheeped leg. While waiting for Alex to derig I contemplated the entrance, once again wishing I had my camera.

Supper was Jack's signature garlic and tomato aioli with roasted potatoes. After meal was rope unpacking session, and cavers' conversation exclusive to this club. It was great to be caving again.

Cecilia Kan

Ireby Fell Cavern: Jack Halliday, Jack Hare, Stephanie Ford, Tanguy Racine

Last caving trip of the academic year! Yorkshire. Threats and rumors of heavy downpours during Saturday were treated with due caution and suspicion (the weather outside was overcast, slightly breezy but warm). We somehow talked ourselves out of doing Penyghent for which we had the permit and followed a brilliant idea by Dr Jack to look at caves in the Marble Steps area.

I’d only visited Large Pot, so learning new caves sounded enticing. When Dr Jack and Cecilia came back from their rope collection errand, they brought half whispered news of great trips to be had at the bottom of Ireby Fell Cavern. This suited me, so Dr Jack, Mr Jack, Stephanie and myself formed a crack team, intent on bottoming the pothole and looking at the extensions in the master cave.

Before this trip, I’d only had one introduction to the vastness, complexity and magnificence of the cave networks under this part of the Yorkshire Dales. Sure I knew about the 3 -county system, but in my mind, it boiled down to the large Easegill maze, and some small potholes connected in a long chain of sumps. Perhaps my previous experience in the Boxhead – Lost John’s system should have prepared me for this, but it was with no real expectations to find a truly amazing cave below Ireby that I joined the team.

Following Jack’s lead, we made our way to the entrance shakehole, with its stream disappearing down boulder choked rifts and a concrete tube entrance. With my rope tacklesack in tow, I descended the boulder slope past a drippy aven to the first pitch and began rigging the drop. There was a ledge traverse and a further ‘Y’-hang to descend the second pitch, but I had been over-generous with the loops further up and found myself short of 2m of rope. Stephanie had got to the traverse by then, but I ascended back up and tightened the line and fed the extra rope through the ‘Y’-hang knot. It reached, but only just.

The spray near the landing gave me more cause for concern however. The active waterfall dropped to the right, with its water channeled by a small trench in the rock and splashed downwards merrily towards the third pitch. There, the profusion of P-bolts was disconcerting, but there were two clear options: a damp route, and an extra-damp route. This was lovely.

The spray, the film of water on the walls, the small jets squirting from unlikely recesses, all combined to make progress unpleasant, but with each lunge for the next bolt, I carried on. The traverse continued at high level and I failed to notice an extra bolt around a corner, so my next ‘Y’-hang was rather far from the deviation bolt around the meander. Expedition rigging. The deviation itself gave me some trouble, as it needed to be quite short to avoid rope rub.

I dropped down, eager to get on with it, only to find myself in a draughty, boulder floored chamber, with spray drifting down at every possible angle. Thankfully, the passage closed to a twisting meander with drier alcoves where I waited. One by one, Stephanie, Jack and Jack rejoined and we looked for the way down ‘Pussy pitch’. Again, straightforward progress was thwarted by the amount of water going down the drop. There were in-situ traverse ropes, threaded through the rock, so we only rerigged the actual hang itself before carrying on.

What followed was hundreds of metres of well-decorated streamway, a damp duck, more streamway until the nature of the passage changed entirely. The sinuosity decreased, and lots of calcite veins appeared on the wall. The rock looked quite shattered in places, and there were dark spots and networks of iron oxide deposition.

Ahead, there was the rumble of a waterfall, so ‘Well pitch’ wasn’t far. We spotted ‘Eurospeleo’ ropes, decided to use them, saving time and effort. The hang was dropping directly into what must generally be the dry route. Somehow, there was just enough water for a large jet to be projected right where we landed, thoroughly drenching both Stephanie and I. Around the corner however, I thought I saw our salvation: a dry hang, already pre-rigged too. Was this another high-level traverse we could use to avoid the water on the way out?

Since I was getting cold, I decided to ascend this rope, to check out where it rejoined the usual route, climbing high into the rift passage. To my surprise, the rope was one of the Misty Mountains Mud Miners, the anchors were a happy mix of hangers, D-rings and –this surprised me – unused IC anchors. Attached was a note ‘Use at your risk etc.…’ Ropes were leading off in all directions, higher up into the roof, along the traverse, back towards Well pitch. There must be a lot of cave passage joining in at this nexus.

Back at the bottom, Stephanie had come down the water-filled shaft, and Mr Jack was preparing to descend. I was cold, Steph was shivering too, the pitch was full of water, and if it got any higher, it would make for an unpleasant and very cold ascent. I simply shouted for the Jacks to turn around, so we could climb back out and make other plans in the dry alcove just upstream.

At the top, we were offered hot squash as a remedy against the dunking we had just got and after reporting on the water levels, decided to turn around there and make for the exit. On the walk upstream I warmed up, cooled down at the duck and warmed up again. Then, as we emerged into another section of walking stream passage near ‘Pussy Pitch’, we climbed into a dry, roof level passage, intent on exploring the various inlets at this higher level of the cave.

The ‘Glory Holes’ proved to be muddy but well decorated. A short section of phreatic roof passage also boasted a plethora of well-preserved crinoids and corals, and further on, a small stream passage – that is a near flat out damp crawl upstream – led off, which Jack investigated for as long as it took to find somewhere to turn around. This was fortunately, not too far in the passage, and came as a relief considering the foam that hung from the roof. This apparently goes on for quite a way and goes under the inspiring name of ‘True Grit’.

We all had a go at inserting ourselves in desperate chattières, some being dug out crawls (again, one of them is part of a large loop route to Ireby II, providing a none-too pleasant connection with Jupiter Cavern), others tight drippy avens. Further upstream, there was another inlet, which quickly broke out into a large aven, a drier passage and a plethora of ropes and ladders leading up in every direction. I haven’t found these extensions on the newer Ireby surveys but one route is even P-bolted. Where do they lead?

With all these questions in mind, we climbed back out of Ireby Fell Cavern, emerging as sunlight dappled the valleys before us. We wandered off to Marble Steps to say hello to the other team, who were also on their way out, before finally walking back to the minibus. The rest was a blur of oily aioli madness and scrumptious oven baked potatoes. In the midst of it all lay a puzzle. Marble Steps had been bone dry all day, while Ireby responded to the little rain it had received in a sobering fashion. With the forecast of a dry night, plans were laid out for the bottoming of Ireby on the morrow.

Tanguy Racine

An early start and a gorgeous drive through Yorkshire’s green green hills brought me and my mum to the NPC hut a bit before nine. Despite the concerning lack of minibus (which Jack and Cecilia had taken to pick up free rope), I found three cavers busy preparing breakfast. It ended up being me, Tanguy and the two Jacks who attempted Ireby Fell (final destination: Duke Street) on the Saturday, leaving the other six to tackle Marble Steps. Weirdly, when we compared notes in the evening, we discovered that Marble Steps had been bone dry (or as dry as a cave ever is), whereas Ireby was as wet as wet can be! So much so that Tanguy turned us round after the second pitch (of four). Honestly, I was incredibly glad. Even though Tanguy had kindly held me out of the waterfall as I prussicked up the rope, I was sopping wet and shivering. I was wearing fabric, not PVC, which might be why - I don’t ever remember being that cold in a cave before. But maybe usually I forget before writing the trip report!

Instead, we spent a fun few hours crawling around the Glory Holes above the main streamway. There was lots of clay, plenty of limestone formations and even a shovel abandoned at the end of a crawl! A slightly wider space revealed a bridge and two random pieces of rope, which Jack (Dr) and Tanguy promptly climbed, at least for a short distance to “see what it’s attached to”. Hot squash and malt loaf at this stage were the perfect thing to give us the energy for a little more exploring and a damp exit. I actually really liked the entrance/exit of the cave, which was a surprisingly narrow, completely smooth cement pipe at about 45°, luckily with a ladder!

We headed back to the minibus via the small patch of forest which shelters the beautiful picnic spot which is the entrance to Marble Steps, and Tanguy and Dr Jack scooted down to find the other team, whilst Mr Jack and I went in search of dry clothes and biscuits. Once Dr Jack, Tanguy and Peter had joined us in the surface world, and we had got bored of waiting for the others (who took a surprisingly long time to appear, in our defense), we heartlessly abandoned their gear at the side of the road - along with the biscuits - in order to start preparing the patatas bravas for dinner: many kilos of potatoes needed chopping and roasting! One of the joys of caving weekends with IC 3 is the saturday evening. There’s plentiful amounts of tea and hot food, alcohol, good conversation - including Tanguy explaining about the exciting fossils he had pointed out in the cave (Ireby), and a discussion of using copper vs iron to carry oxygen in the blood - and, of course, lots of rope coiling.

Stephanie Ford

Sunday

Rift Pot: Alex Seaton, Cecilia Kan, David Wilson, Jack Halliday, Stephanie Ford, Tanguy Racine

On sunday, a small “presidents group” (minus Tanguy) went to reattempt Ireby Fell, this time prepared with PVC oversuits! Tanguy led the rest of us down The Rift, which was new for all of us, although apparently there is a trip report online, courtesy of Jarv.

The entrance to the Rift was a scaffolding-framed crack in the wall of a bowl of grass, with broken, ancient-looking planks of wood stood up like teeth to bar entry, which we casually moved out of the way and proceeded to clamber down over the mossy rocks inside.

After successfully avoiding knocking into the pipes across the first pitch, “aww”-ing at a very cold lizard, and saying hello to the sheep’s skull, it was time for the first crawl. This was - I think - the first time I have been genuinely worried about drowning in a cave. The crawl itself was low enough that I was unable to move my head to see where I was going, and I was flat on my stomach, pulling with hands and elbows and pushing with my feet, bruising my knees on the rocks. And then I put my hand into a puddle and discovered the bottom about two inches lower than I was happy with.

I fear that at this point I started whimpering about drowning and such. Luckily, Cecilia was right behind me and she gave me the (retrospectively) excellent advice to stop being silly and get on with it (but phrased nicely), which I did, albeit reluctantly. After a lot of scrambling and internal moaning, and a much longer distance than I was prepared for, I made it through. Some controlled falling down a few steps through a crack and I found Dave and Tanguy again. And was told that there was a second even worse crawl.

Personally, I thought it was a lot better than the first crawl. But I had three advantages: I was properly psyched up for it; Tanguy warned us to go feet first; and Dave caught me as I shoved myself out and into the short drop to open(ish) space! Possibly our rendition of “Can you feel the squeeze tonight?” also helped.

A bit more controlled falling led to the final pitch, complete with rebelay and deviation, both of which I managed without killing myself or getting tangled in all the ropes, yay! The top of the pitch was very narrow, and the rope (magically, or possibly due to the clever rigging) moved around a corner of wall, with the other wall relatively close still, but a more varied shape, so that it opened up a little. But then all of a sudden all the walls end, and you’re dropping down a single rope in the centre of of an enormous empty space, called Coates Cavern. The cavern was larger than the rest of the cave put together, plus a bit extra. Apparently it has lots of extensions, including one called the Mousetrap, which leads to Large Pot. I went for a climb over one of the hills a discovered a veritable forest of limestone straws, and even “helictites”, which grow in curls, sideways!

Interestingly, you get a much better sense of how large a cavern is when you’re watching other people (and their helmet lights) wander around, than if you’re trying to look with your own light. Plus it looks like typical caving photos, which is fun. This is especially true if it’s cold enough that your breath condenses in front of you! Dragon’s breath plus spotlight made it look as though everything was steaming. Alex and I spent a few minutes sat in the dark, in silence, appreciating the stillness and the sounds of water. The combinations of sounds made it seem as though someone was showering, in the rain, next to a stream. At least to me, anyway!

The way back out was easier, because I was mentally prepared, but harder because I had to climb up all the parts which I had slid down. Thanks to the limited space, this involved using any body part which could be in any way wedged to provide a point with which to push the rest of my body to a new position. The tightness also meant that you weren’t just fighting gravity - which, as everyone knows, is the weakest force - but also friction, and the possibility of the SRT gear getting caught.

The good side? The unbelievable rush I got when I did it. All by myself (mostly). The sense of confidence when you realise that you can get into (and, importantly, out of) these spaces that very few people dare to enter… And the feeling that I had definitely improved since my first trip! And let’s be honest, the only time you’re ever going to look at pebbles that closely is when your head is stuck facing them for ten minutes whilst you crawl through a tunnel. Once again, we passed the sheep’s skull, waved at the lizard and (un)successfully avoided the pipes (which led to good bruises on my shoulders). Emerging to fluffy clouds over a bowl of soft grass, then climbing out to gaze over rolling hills all the way to the distant grey shimmer of the sea really capped off the trip. (I really, really love Yorkshire)

And back to the minibus to meet the others (after a small amount of timing-related confusion), see which of our clothes had remained least muddy, and stuff our faces with apple pies!

At the hut, my wonderful mother was waiting in her car, so I grabbed my stuff and ran away to a hot shower and pink fizz in the garden.

Stephanie Ford

On our way to Marble Steps entrance, Alex asked about a big depression we passed by, which turned out to be the entrance to Rift Pot. Led by Tanguy, everyone who had not been club president abseiled down, pass the scaffold bars and planks of wood holding boulders back, heap of bones, and landed right next to a lizard and the sheep skull. The crawl to follow was the grimmest I had gone through: long, flat out, lots of grits and puddles. I slithered on with my SRT bag beneath my chest to keep my body out of the water, committing only my left limbs to the murky water.

There was hesitation at the next section, where an awkward constriction before a 1.5m drop sounded discouraging for some after the toil. But on we went, with a bit of singing, a bit of helping each other out, until the space suddenly expanded. A bit of fun SRT then I found myself on top of a huge huge boulder heap in an enormous chamber. One end was covered in stalactites, stalagmites, some fuzzy helictites, sheets of flowstones. I spotted a straw that was more than 0.6m long. However, once the astonishment had passed, exhaustion began to seep in, with the water in my left sleeve stealing heat from me.

Tanguy and Jack had begun to head out. Dave sent an invitation to go through the flat out crawl to see the Mouse Hole with me and Alex, which did not sound enticing. I had to sip some warm squash from the thermal flasks before I allowed Dave to retry persuading me. Alex had definitely bailed. Multiple times Dave reiterated that he was standing upright on the other side of the crawl, so I lugged my aching body up to the crack in the wall. The other side of the crack were massive muddy slopes dotted with stalagmites, in a tunnel the size of the main drain in Easegill. The ceiling was covered in straws hanging down, extending down the chamber, interrupted only by flowstones. Above a particularly spectacular sheet, a little chamber with many columns could be spotted. Another stalactite had a ring of helictites growing around its top, resembling a freshly dug turnip. The scene was stupendous.

We followed the sliding marks, skidding while trying to steer clear of white studs in the floor. I would tease Dave as he slipped at a spot, then slip into him myself, so he had to stabilise both of us, push me back up the slope, then let me pull him up. We discussed the shapes of the stalagmites, a lot of which looked like mini sculptures of women to me, with elegant coiffures and embellished ball gowns to match. It was a wonderful playground, and such a pity others had missed it. We didn't manage to find the Mouse Hole before we had to turn back, only a hand line disappearing off some passage above head, but I would definitely love to return for a second attempt, with my camera.

The way up was smooth for me, with jubilation and a bag of warm squash. I noticed something that slipped my attention in the grim crawl during my entry: formations, as if these were little hints from the cave to ask its explorers not to give up. Back at the bottom of the entrance pitch, I observed the lizard in the distant rumbling from the derig team. Very slowly, it placed its two front legs on the wooden planks, then its hind limbs, finally, failing to stick to the vertical surface, flopped on its back onto the rocks. I did not think it was local. I could hear grunting now. The lizard wanted move under a rock. I picked it up, and relocated it back on the rock surface again. It wasn't pleased. I went to grab the tackle sack from Dave, came back, the lizard was trying to move under a rock. I fished it up, popped it into my SRT bag, then up I went. Checked the lizard again half way. It was okay, except it wasn't pleased.

The weather was beautiful outside, and I thought the lizard would probably enjoy the warmth. I placed it on a rock that had been bathing in the sunlight. It glared at me, stuck its tongue out, before disappearing off.

Cecilia Kan

Ireby Fell Cavern: Ben Honan, Jack Hare, Rhys Tyers

Lovely trip down Ireby on Sunday. Not sure why I've never been before. There's certainly a lot of good caving to be done. Tried out our filming kit for the first time. Some thoughts and ideas:

Rhys