2022-12-16 00:38:37 +00:00
|
|
|
<html><head><title>Stuff bought 2016</title></head><body>
|
|
|
|
|
<h1>UK Caving Blogs 2016</h1>
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
<h2>CHECC Grand Prize entry for Cambridge: camping in Tunnocksschacht, Austria</h2>
|
|
|
|
|
<h4>Nov 25, 2016</h4>
|
2022-12-16 16:26:16 +00:00
|
|
|
<p>by CavingPig (Elaine Oliver)
|
2022-12-16 00:38:37 +00:00
|
|
|
<p>[to be added in to the logbook where appropriate.]
|
|
|
|
|
<p>
|
2022-12-16 16:26:16 +00:00
|
|
|
<b>2016-07-18</b><br />
|
2022-12-16 00:38:37 +00:00
|
|
|
It was decided that this year, the CUCC expo would establish an underground camp in Kraken Chamber,
|
|
|
|
|
Tunnocksschacht, as pushing trips to the lower leads were getting to be around 18 hours, which was bordering on
|
|
|
|
|
the unsafe in terms of fatigue in combination with navigating the nylon highway required to get in and out.
|
|
|
|
|
<p>
|
|
|
|
|
Having arrived late at expo, I was to be on the last pushing trip of the season, after which we'd start to
|
|
|
|
|
derig. The plan had been to spend two nights underground, but heavy rain and flooding pitches meant we postponed
|
|
|
|
|
our start and would only spend one night down there. This would be by far the deepest I had ever been - my
|
|
|
|
|
previous record was a mere -280m, while the campsite here was at -600m, with the pushing front a further -300m
|
|
|
|
|
below that. I am also not a huge fan of massive pitches, so after spending the morning trying to think of ways I
|
|
|
|
|
could get out of the trip entirely, I made somewhat slow progress down the cave as I tried not to cry or have a
|
|
|
|
|
panic attack. Very much type 2 fun at this point. I really felt like I had reached the edge of my comfort zone
|
|
|
|
|
at -500m, but of course there were many more metres to go... at least I had avoided getting strung up on the
|
|
|
|
|
knot passes. Some noodles upon reaching the campsite briefly restored spirits before we descended further into
|
|
|
|
|
the bowels of the earth.
|
|
|
|
|
<p>
|
|
|
|
|
I became significantly happier upon reaching Song of the Earth, a massive steeply ramping railway tunnel of a
|
|
|
|
|
borehole discovered only a week or two previously. This was mainly because I was not dangling precariously on a
|
|
|
|
|
small bit of string. At this point we split into two teams: Katey and myself were to go on down and look at what
|
|
|
|
|
we thought was the deepest part of the cave so far, while Peachey wanted to do a bit of bolt climbing, so Fleur
|
|
|
|
|
agreed to belay him. Katie and I slithered for what seemed like miles across the muddy boulders and eventually
|
|
|
|
|
reached the previous limit of exploration, just on the far side of a sandy dig called "Don't Stop Me Now". We'd
|
|
|
|
|
been informed by the previous team that this had carried "a howling gale" - the gentle breeze wasn't quite what
|
|
|
|
|
we expected, but it was blowing nonetheless - maybe the lower water levels had something to do with it. We
|
|
|
|
|
whipped out the survey book and instruments and off we set, getting in two really great legs... before turning a
|
|
|
|
|
corner... to find a climb of around 6m with no footholds and carrying a small stream. Katey volunteered to have
|
|
|
|
|
a look up there and reported back that it was very muddy and slippery. We decided that we would really need to
|
|
|
|
|
bolt this to make it safe - a small slip at this depth could have very serious consequences, but sadly, we'd not
|
|
|
|
|
been expecting to need bolting kit and the expedition was running out of rope anyway, so we shot a final survey
|
|
|
|
|
leg before reluctantly turning around.
|
|
|
|
|
<p>
|
|
|
|
|
We went to find Fleur and Peachey, who were on the far side of what Fleur described as "proper fucking horrible
|
|
|
|
|
bouldery death". There was a mysteriously fresh dead bat. Got a bit chilly waiting around, then headed back up
|
|
|
|
|
to camp for dinner and the newly invented camp cocktail, custard tea, before a nip of Kraken rum restored
|
|
|
|
|
feeling to my toes and I jumped into the welcoming embrace of the world's largest sleeping bag.
|
|
|
|
|
<p>
|
|
|
|
|
The next morning we broke camp, but decided to leave a lot of kit there as there were still some very plausible
|
|
|
|
|
leads for next year. I headed out first with a couple of tackle bags, including the giant sleeping bag (it had
|
|
|
|
|
done a sterling job of keeping me alive in the 0C cave...) while the others derigged a lot of the rope with the
|
|
|
|
|
PAELLA technique (Pulling An Extremely Long Length Alltogether, I think) ready for removal by hauling teams the
|
|
|
|
|
next day. Katey and Peachey stayed back to do even more derigging while Fleur caught me up, then we headed back
|
|
|
|
|
to the Top Camp bivi for some curry, which was the best meal of my life up to that point.
|
|
|
|
|
<p>
|
|
|
|
|
This trip (with many words of encouragement from Fleur in particular) showed me that I am actually capable of a
|
|
|
|
|
lot more than I think I am, and though I'm a long way from being as fluid and quick as the others on ropes, I
|
|
|
|
|
think I've moved past some mental barriers there. Right now I don't feel like I want to rush straight back to
|
|
|
|
|
the camp, but give it time - I'm sure that by next summer I'll be ready to break my Bottom Inspector record once
|
|
|
|
|
again.</body></html>
|
