The trouble
with being in the Red Rose is everyone expects that you know the Lancaster-Easegill system and visit it each weekend
searching for those elusive virgin passages that surely exist, ‘down that rift’ or ‘under this boulder here’.
The real trouble for me was that my knowledge of Lancaster Hole was, to be
honest, pretty grim! Whenever someone engaged in conversation on about
dig/passage/duck I would scratch my head, bullshit on a while about fossil
phreatic tubes and generally look an utter dimwit who didn’t have the brains
that he was born with. My luck was in though as when being driven to Bullpot
Farm for the bonfire party we met Neil walking up the lane. After he hopped in
and exchanged greetings he offered to take me down Lancaster Main Drain and out
of Wretched Rabbit Passage; at last!
Despite this
lucky break ridding me of the stigma of my ignorance my luck did not hold cut
and fate dealt a cruel blow when my lamp decided to fall into numerous
fragments. Bulbs flew, wires broke, and harsh words flew around the changing
room. I resolved to ask Santa for an FX2, and use the pilot light which miraculously
(check your spel check Paul - Ed. )
had not broken, with my zoom as a back up.
Meanwhile
Neil had become super efficient and gathered up the necessary gear for the entrance
pitch. By dividing up the jobs as equally as possible we were soon underground,
though not before my stop revealed its ‘never let you down’ properties, brand new
bobbins and a rough 10.5 mm rope provided a bumpy ride for a nine stone
weakling. Neil easily glided down with the grace of a dancer from the Bolshoi
Ballet, in comparison I must have looked like a drunken amoeba on a string.
Good thing we didn’t have to prussik out!
We agreed that neither of us wanted to wally about but I needed to learn the
route through. Squinting at the bridge in Bridge Hall through my feeble light I
stumbled down Kath’s Way following the stream passage and soon arrived at Fall
Pot where a group of gnome like cavers sat silently in a circle oblivious to us
until we tried to talk to them with mixed success.
Down the
ladders and through the triangular slot and we emerged at the main drain
briefly visiting the sump, Waterfall Passage and Wilf Taylors Passage before
starting up the main streamway. Vague curves of rock and formation could be
seen in the roof, untouched by the hoards who destroy the passages above. The
wide and pleasant sinous streamway seen hung on the walls of the Marten Arms
became real and we both marched along past the pools to where the passage lost
its characteristic canyon shape and a wide slow flowing streamway emerged.
devoid of grit and boulders it resembled more of a swimming pool, we were both
pleased it hadn’t been spoilt somehow.
Soon we
arrived at Oakes Cavern and climbed into the higher level passages which were
more familiar to me. The novelty of the streamway had ended and we set off to tackle
the obstacle course of greasy boulders sweating profusely under a thick layer
of fibre pile but satisfied when the Stop Pot ladder was reached after which we
dropped into Four Ways Chamber from the bedding running above. Heads down and
the joys of Wretched Rabbit Passage with its variety of dry tight canyon,
bedding crawls, and the more strenuous climbs at the end culminated in a fine
end to a popular though unique piece of cave.
A full moon
burned down lighting up the fell as we walked clown the gill and up at Link Pot
to
Paul
Wilkinson.
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