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<title>1984: Cambridge Underground report</title>
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<center><font size=-1>Cambridge Underground 1985 pp 4-6</font>
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<h2>Austria 1984 Exposée - Everything Revealed</h2>
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<p>by Mike Richardson</center>
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<p>An elite group visited Austria this time; team rust (Wadders and Bill in
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the blue Mini), team speed (Mike M., Planc and John in the Alpine), team
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smoothies (Wiggy, Brian and Mike T. in the Fiesta), and team momentum (Andy
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D. and the author in Rover the Rover). Notice, <b>NO WOMEN</b>.... persistent
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mutterings from Wiggy that he'd have to do some caving this year instead. "I
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didn't do much caving last year, but I did an <b>awful</b> lot of ****ing".
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<p>Outward bound was largely uneventful, except for criticism of Brian's
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driving abilities before a flat tyre was diagnosed, and the partial
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disintegration of the Alpine's exhaust. We visited
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<span lang=de>Dachau;</span> full of happy, smiling tourists ("Aw, gee Elmer,
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the gaz chamber. Ah've just got to take a photograph....."). Still, we all
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got there, the Staud'nwirt's landlady's eyes coming up schilling signs as
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Wiggy presented himself. Planc and Wadders immediately availed themselves of
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the liquid refreshment, and spent a happy evening lobbing sugar into each
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other's biers. It was later decided to experiment by heating up a tin of
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sweetcorn on a petrol stove without any water, and the beer tent spent the
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rest of the trip decorated with bits of corn. Next morning, the group of boy
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scouts who were camped next to us asked us not to set off fireworks in the
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middle of the night.
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<p>An initial spell of lethargy was interrupted by some caving.
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<span lang=de>Wolfhöhle</span> and
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<span lang=de>Steinschlagschacht</span> were restarted, while Wadders played
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Pacman (sorry, Snapper) on his Beeb in the Gasthof. Then Andy D. and Planc
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set of to push <span lang=de>Wolfhöhle,</span> while Mikes T. and the
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author headed for <span lang=de>SSSchacht,</span> to be followed later by
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Bill and John. At about 5 p.m. we decided that we'd just about run out of
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rope, and anyway could comfortably get back for a bier or four, so we set off
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out, passing the other two. The weather remained dry until the first was
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downed.
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<p>Around 10 pm, the World War Three rehearsal got under way, Flash, Bang,
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Zap, <span lang=de>Donner und Blitzen.</span> And the gentle patter of
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torrential rain. Having retreated to the tents, the author got fed up of
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being dripped on, and retreated to Rover, only to be dripped on from some
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holes in the roof. Meanwhile, unbeknown to the campsite, Bill and John are
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stumbling round on the plateau, mostly lost, and soaked to the skin, while
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Andy and Planc are sitting it out at the bottom of the big pitch, huddled
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round a gobbler.
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<p>Next morning, the rain eased a little, and Bill and John returned looking
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fraught. The absence of the other two provoked mumblings about possible
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rescues, but little enthusiasm. However, in the early afternoon, Mike M. (who
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had been daft enough to bring a wetsuit) and Wadders (an opportunity to get
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him underground, we thought) were sent off, with promises that rescue parties
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two and three would follow later. Wiggy and Brian departed a little later,
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and the rest later still. Up on the plateau we all met up. Team the first had
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got lost, rediscovered some holes otherwise lost to CUCC, and arrived at
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<span lang=de>Wolfhöhle</span> to discover Andy and Planc coming out,
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and Wiggy and Brian just arriving.
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<p>Apart from a short interlude, it then rained continuously for five days.
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The author doscovered the joys of a water bed due to an error in pitching his
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tent in a hollow. The beer tent floor degenerated into a mud bath, and vast
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quantities of bier were consumed. When the sun finally came out, the foolish
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amongst us went caving, those with more sense got sunburned by
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<span lang=de>Grundlsee.</span>
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<p>The next trip to <span lang=de>SSSchacht</span> fortunately bottomed it at
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about -240m, so Mike T. and the author rapidly derigged most of it to prevent
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the possibility of any further descents. Meanwhile,
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<span lang=de>Wolfhöhle</span> crept ominously deeper. But of more
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important things ! Off we went one evening to the local caving group's
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meeting. Slides were shown, and lots of bier consumed. At about quarter to
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midnight, the landlord announced a further quarter hour and team
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can't-take-the-pace (Planc, Wiggy, Brian and John) departed. At two, bier was
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still flowing when it was decided to call it a day, so team
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pretty-well-pissed piled into Rover along with Albert, and headed back to
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<span lang=de>Grundlsee,</span> Mike T. doing his best to talk Austrian
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through a bier haze and against the noise of AC/DC Highway to Hell drowning
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out the engine.
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<p>Having dropped Bill (Team can't-take-quite-this-much-pace) at the
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campsite, and Albert up above <span lang=de>Grundlsee,</span> we set off back
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down the valley, with an impromptu bop in the back. Wadders is spaced out
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with a bookshelf sized speaker to each ear. Mike M. and Mike T. are bouncing
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up and down in the back, and Andy is leaning out of the window pissing. The
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dance floor jumps up and down on the specially fitted heavy-duty springs, and
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to a tight foot twitching on the pedal. Back at the campsite Brian questions
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our taste in music, and we have a long philosophical discussion on sexism,
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vegetarianism, and vivisection in the beer tent.
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<p>Mike M. went off to a garage to get the exhaust fixed, and was forced to
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explain what we were doing in Austria. "Ah", said the garage man, "many
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people come to Austria to walk on the mountains; that is normal. Few people
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come to Austria to walk in the mountains; that is not normal!". He also
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suggested that Mike might like to buy a new car. More sunshine prompted team
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ornithologists to go and view the bird-life by the lake, and were rewarded by
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the sight of many Great and Lesser Tits. Andy D. also bumped into a Blue Tit
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which had fallen out of its nest (accidentally, he claims) while snorkelling.
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Said Tit's mate looked set for an altercation, until the Hulk climbed
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dripping from the water. We resorted to thoughts of bromide lollies, and then
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decided to go posing round town with Rover's roof off.
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<p>Meanwhile, Wadders had discovered that the tappets on the mini were so
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badly adjusted that the exhaust valves weren't shutting, possibly accounting
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for their state. Mike M's front brake pads finally committed suicide in
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protest at the toll road, and a further visit to the garage again suggested
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that a new car might be a good idea. Various bits of the Fiesta were
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inverted, much to the owners displeasure.
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<p>Andy D, Planc, and Wiggy went and climbed the
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<span lang=de>Dachstein,</span> and Wadders and Wiggy climbed the
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<span lang=de>Trisselwand,</span> the latter resulting in a certain amount of
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brown perspiration on the 45m unprotected runouts from dubious belay points.
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Oh, and we went to the fireworks, which were only so-so, but the bier tent
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stayed open rather late, which was better.
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<p>But what of the caving ? The <span lang=de>SSSchacht</span> gear was
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ferried round to <span lang=de>Wolfhöhle,</span> and another draughting
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hole discovered. Despite much persuasion to the contrary, Planc investigated
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it, and reported that it went. Rats, we thought, it'll have to be looked up.
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At last, however, there was some good news,
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<span lang=de>Wolfhöhle</span> had stopped at last at a sump, and we all
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breathed sighs of relief. Brian crashed out in Fritz's from the effort, and
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had a three-storey house of cards built, photographed and demolished on his
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back without even noticing. Further investigation of Planc's hole lost the
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draught in a messy phreatic bit, so <span lang=de>Wolfhöhle</span> was
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derigged, and some token exploration and surveying carried out on the
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Plateau. The Wolf was recovered, and examined by Gunter, who said it was
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actually a bear. Unfortunately, due to an administrative error (ie., balls
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up) it had been promised to the other caving group.
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<p>And that finished it. The key broke off in the Alpine's back hatch,
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resulting in another embarassing visit to the garage, and Rover blew a hole
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in a core plug. Andy D. and the author set off for
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<span lang=fr>Chamonix,</span> Chas, and <span lang=fr>Mont Blanc;</span>
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Bill returned to his beloved traction engine and the coal strike; Wadders
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slipped away early having been caving exactly once; and everyone lived
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happily ever after. Bye !
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<hr />
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<!-- LINKS -->
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<ul id="links">
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<li>Cambridge Underground 1985,
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<a href="http://cucc.survex.com/jnl/1985/index.htm">Table of Contents</a></li>
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<li>1984 Expedition info:
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<ul>
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<li><a href="log.htm">Logbook</a></li>
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<li><a href="stopp.htm">Stop Press report</a>, CU 1984</li>
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<li>Main Expo report, Cambridge Underground 1985:
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<ul>
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<li><a href="cavegd.htm">Wolfhöhle</a> - A Guidebook Description</li>
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<li>An Ascent of the <a href="twand.htm">Trisselwand</a></li>
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</ul></li>
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<li><a href="bcracc.htm">BCRA Caves & Caving Report</a></li>
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</ul></li>
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<li><a href="../../pubs.htm#pubs1984">Index</a> to all publications</li>
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<li><a href="../../index.htm">Back to Expeditions intro page</a></li>
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<li><a href="../../../index.htm">CUCC Home Page</a></li>
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</ul>
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