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Online edit of logbookentry 2025-07-10b

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@@ -483,7 +483,7 @@ Of course, they had none, and we had to apologetically admit to the woman that s
The first day of the 2°C prospecting hellfest! Having decided to set off Wednesday morning to enable a night of drinking and roistering in the tatty hut loft on Tuesday night, an intrepid gang of cavers set off for top camp with various missions in mind. Keeping to my self-designated role of Prospecting Princess, I corralled a crack team of Hamish and Dylan to revisit one of the promising entrances which Buck and I had discovered on the plateau-bashing bonanza the previous Saturday. Following the inevitable pre-departure faff we set off on the Balcony route at about 11am, turning off at the Tunnocks Col (around 47.694787,13.821477) to head west roughly following the route previously taken. It was cold and overcast, with low cloud constantly threatening rain. The entrance proved far more difficult to find than we’d anticipated, requiring several spates of bunde assault and downclimbing vertical cliffs. However, Dylan eventually managed to track the entrance down and we began assessing our options.
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<img width="40%" alt="Entrance to Gruffalo" src="https://expo.survex.com/expofiles/photos/2025/JoelStobbart/pigs_in_there_with_utm.jpg">
<img width="40%" alt="Entrance to Gruffalo" src="/years/2025/https://expo.survex.com/expofiles/photos/2025/JoelStobbart/pigs_in_there_with_utm.jpg">
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<i>the entrance to the cave now known as Gruffalo, previously called Pigs... In There?</i>
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@@ -529,6 +529,16 @@ Joel reappeared, removed the last of the Petzl Pulses and derigged the rope. We
<div class="timeug">T/U: 1.0 hours</div>
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<div class="tripdate" id="2025-07-10b">2025-07-10</div>
<div class="trippeople"><u>Ash</u>, Buck, Hamish</div>
<div class="triptitle">KH - Survey and de-rig Technical Underwear</div>
After the somewhat faffy trip the day before, we returned, having recruited Hamish, to survey the Technical Underwear bolt climb. A fairly efficient start saw us through to Where the Wind Blows in little time.
Buck was keen to do book so Hamish headed up the rope with the nail polish and I distoxed along the bottom of the rift. Linked to a couple of black marks likely to be existing stations, then up we went. The Aven splits and recombines in several places, halfway up (15m) a small muddy tube goes off to the side but immediately chokes. Water also enters on both sides, so was careful to avoid. At the midpoint I went past, up to the top, and we slowly finished the survey up to the too tight top.
I then de-rigged by adjusting the rope to enable a two-stage pullthrough to recover the rope, only had to sacrifice a couple of rings. Meanwhile Buck tidied up the survey keeping warm in the group shelter with Hamish.
Following the derig we still had some time so moved the rope and metalwork to staircase 36, allowing Buck and Hamish to enjoy the delights of Triassic Park and Knossos for the first time. Then it was out the cave at reasonable time (entrance only slightly drippy) and back to top camp for curry.
<div class="timeug">T/U: 6.0 hours</div>
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<div class="tripdate" id="2025-07-11a">2025-07-11</div>
<div class="trippeople"><u>Joel</u>, Hamish</div>
<div class="triptitle">1623-245 - It's a long way to 204g</div>
@@ -543,7 +553,7 @@ With time ticking on we thought it best to begin our return journey, especially
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<div class="tripdate" id="2025-07-14a">2025-07-14</div>
<div class="trippeople"><u>chrisdensham</u>, c. densham, chris-densham, chris-densham</div>
<div class="trippeople"><u>c. densham</u>, chris-densham, chris-densham</div>
<div class="triptitle">topcamp - Fire and water</div>
Having received a report that 'my' water system at top camp was leaking and had lost the last week of rain, I resigned myself to jacking on my first trip into KH for 18 years and instead went shopping for plumber's sealant. I then received a personal message that there had been a fire at Top Camp and my bivvi spot had not fared well. A gondola ride and walk up the hill allowed me to inspect the situation. Dylan and Dan, on a break from Popper pot, explained how Dylan had escaped a near death experience the night before. A stack of 3 campbeds had had 24 nightlights placed directly upon it in the hope that the combustion of the hydrocarbon (generating CO2 and, er, H2O), might somehow dispel the dampness in a furry suit hanging from the tarpaulin support ropes above. Photographic evidence, apparently, exists. Dylan, sleeping in the tier above, was woken by the smell of thick black smoke and observed a conflagration of the camp bed stack below. It seems that burning liquid wax soaking into a dry and absorbent cloth made an excellent wick. Who could have predicted such a mechanism? Dan made a rapid exit from his pit and led the swift discharge of the camp's remaining water supply on the fire, putting it out and minimising the collateral damage. The final toll was 3 camp beds, my 1st aid kit, 2 batteries, a pair of gloves and a new 2 ft diameter hole in the tarp. Fortunately those pesky EU bureaucrats had mandated a fire retardant to be incorporated in the tarpaulin meaning that the entire sleeping top camp party were not burnt to a crisp in their beds.
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