The Cave Surveyors
(Hitchhikers) Guide to the Beautifully Decorated Shit Hole.
Surveying Team: Sam
Lieberman & Andy Whitney
To
qualify as a ‘beautifully decorated shit hole’ a cave, or section of cave, must
meet certain strict criteria. Passages come in many varied shapes and sizes,
some adorned with formations, some not, it is very important to make oneself
familiar with the early warning signs presented by ‘shit holes’ so as to avoid
potential disappointment and displeasure.
The
Cave Surveyors Guide states that: “To
qualify as a ‘beautifully decorated shit hole’ progress through the cave or
passage in question must be mainly unpleasant. It must be either of crawling
size, or flat out crawling size, for the average caving adult. This is a
fundamental requirement. Cave of this size does not, however, automatically
qualify on this one criterion alone – others must be present. The second
essential element to be present is mud and a source of water to enable the mud
to reach the required consistency, which is one not dissimilar to human
excrement.
The
third requirement is a squeeze, or section of cave narrower than the average
caving adult. This allows the caver in question to be liberally coated with the
diarrhoea-like mud and emerge from the ‘beautifully decorated shit hole’
looking like you had recently been passed through the rectum of the Devil’s
Arse - not the well known cavern in the Peak District – the actual Devil’s
Arse.
Once all
of the aforementioned criteria have been met, all that is needed are some
delicate calcite formations to entice the unwary explorer and leave them
wondering how such beauty and squalor can coexist in such a small space. For
the unwary explorer, it is also vitally important to realise that the presence
of beautiful calcite formations is often used to lure the said person into the
cave in the first place, often with promises of unrivalled crystalline beauty.
These
promises are always lies in ‘beautifully decorated shit holes’”
With
this in mind Sam and I set off on a Thursday evening to survey a ‘never before
surveyed’ passage in Lancaster Hole, inspirationally named ‘Wilf Taylor’s 1.5’,
located in ‘Wilf Taylor’s Passage’ on a high shelf just downstream of where ‘Cross Passage’ enters.
Following the theme, a passage called ‘Wilf Taylor’s 2’ runs parallel to ‘Wilf
Taylor’s’ and the upstream end of this passage can be seen below ‘Wilf Taylor’s
1.5’ through a slot in the floor.
Sam
had visited this passage on a previous occasion and had regaled me with stories
of fantastic formations, and this was backed up by Ray, who had also had a
brief look a number of years ago. I suspected that this was more than likely a
conspiracy and that I was been conned, but against my better judgement I agreed
to go with Sam while Ray was away visiting his mother.
The walk across the fell was under a clear,
starlit sky with the temperature just above freezing. It was quite pleasant to
be greeted by the relative warmth of Lancaster Hole, but this was to be a short
lived pleasure as we sweated our way along Montagu West, eventually taking an
enforced ‘cool down stop’ at ‘Portcullis Passage’. We continued at a more
sedate pace from here and soon arrived at the upstream end of ‘Wilf Taylor’s
not quite so boiled-in-the-bag. Upon climbing up to the ledge from the superbly
scalloped and clean washed ‘Wilf Taylor’s’ I immediately resigned myself to an
evening of poo-ferreting when I was greeted by a crystal clear pool barring the
way ahead in the hands and knees sized bedding.
Sam
joined me on the ledge and then set off ahead with the note book while I did
the instruments. The first leg was a healthy ten metres and as Sam had
estimated the entire passage length as “about thirty metres”, I figured we were
in for an early visit to the pub. Wrong! Sam quickly revised his original
estimate. It was now looking likely that shock-horror, we might not even make
the pub. Our pace hastened nearly as quickly as the passage proportions and
conditions deteriorated. We were now flat out on a dry mud floor with some
exquisite and pristine white Helictites and Stals just inches above our heads –
the passage deteriorated proportionally to our forward movement.
Dry
mud quickly gave way to slimy mud, and then to the inevitable poo monster. I
asked Sam if Paul Windle had been here at some point – It was that muddy. After
passing a couple of squeezes, one of which cheekily grabbed your arse and
didn’t want to let go, we arrived at the definitive end of the passage. Luckily
there was enough room to turn around here and we beat a hasty retreat, now
liberally covered from head to toe in slime. Safe in the knowledge that our
pint of Wainright and Mini Cheddars was a certainty, our spirits lifted, and
after a quick wash in ‘Wilf Taylor’s’ we headed out for a reward. Wilf Taylor’s
1.5 , you are officially a ‘beautifully decorated shit hole’
Andy Whitney