Helectites in Shatter Cave, Somerset. Photo by Linda Wilson.
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Sorry
for the (very) late appearance of the January newsletter, but without
wishing to be too over-dramatic, this was caused by the hospitalisation
of one of your esteemed editors (hint, not Zac). But worry not, we're
back in the swing of things now, and see later for a few more details
just to keep you all in the loop.
With a late start to term, there's not been much organised caving, although there's plenty more coming up!
However, the club was able to finally claim a prize won at CHECC by
Henry Morgan a while ago, which turned out to be a free weekend at the
MNRC cottage. This led to a joint weekend with CUCC (Cambridge) and some
caving was even done!
We've done our best to put together a full newsletter for you, and
thanks to everyone who has contributed articles, we might even have
succeeded! Please keep them coming, as you wouldn't want to imagine our
sad little faces, would you? Thanks to Ben Alterman for his piece on
Bristol Caves! That'll be appearing in our next issue, along woth a
progress report on the grafitti recording in Kents Cavern.
You can find all the back issues of the monthly newsletter online. So if you're sitting in a dull lecture, take a look at what the club has been up in past months and years.
Very worm wishes from Zac and Linda
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ANNOUNCEMENTS
Brown and Bye.
AGM AND ANNUAL DINNER
Our AGM & annual dinner is coming up soon on the 11th of March.
The AGM will start at 10.30am, and is being held in the Hepple Lecture
Theatre in the School of Geographical Sciences (just off the foyer just
beyond the main entrance on University Road).
You can hopefully look forward to a pre-recorded address from our
esteemed Hon Prezz Elaine Oliver who wins this years Golden Diary Award
for Time Management, to be presented the next time she synchronises her
diary with the club's! Yes, in her own words, the Hon Press sucks at
diary management and had it lodged in her head that the AGM weekend was
the first weekend in March. Oops, but we love her anyway!
We are still going through the customoray faff stage over whether there
will be a talk or whether we will show some of the very early UBSS
caving films, as these will be new to most of the audience.
This is your last chance to sign up using this form
for the annual dinner - this one is definitely not one to miss! Please
ensure you sign up by midnight on Thursday 23rd February!
The full venue hire has been generously
subsidised by the Oliver Lloyd Fund and our very own Linda Wilson. We
will have the entire Brown & Bye harbourside restaurant to ourselves
(even with door staff). All you need to do is choose your welcome drink
and the rest will be covered with pizza and charcuterie sharing boards.
This is the only chance we get as cavers to dress up nicely and have a
fancy evening without the mud but with all the glam - and there will be
annual awards, of course.
What you can expect the night to look like!
MENDIP WEEKEND WITH BUGSS
We'll be back on Mendip for a traditional weekend at the UBSS hut with the Geology Society! We'll be tearing up the Mendips March 18th - 19th for our shared love of rocks. Sign up here. Contact Ben with any queries.
SPORTS FLEECES
Finally the chance has come back around to get a fab Bristol Caving fleece with our own crest. Sign up here. Contact Jess with any queries.
Jess modelling her fleece in the SWCC
Please feel free to get in touch!
Worm wishes,
Mia
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FOGGY, FOGGY DAY
Yep, definitely foggy, but also picturesque. Photo by Jess Brock.
Quite a few Mendip caves have
access systems and warden requirements, but it isn't hard to get access
to some fantastic trips, as Zac Woodford found at the recent weekend at
the MNRC hut. And for anyone interested in a trip, details of how to book can be found on the Council of Southern Caving Clubs Access Guide. Not all the caves in Fairy Cave Quarry require a warden.
For years I had heard legends of Fairy Cave Quarry and the amazing
formations that dwelt within its caves. However, what with having to
book a warden, I had never bothered trying to organize my own trip
there. But as we were staying within arm’s reach at the MNRC I decided
it was finally time to quit being lazy and find a warden. Through my
contacts I was able to book us Martin Grass to lead a trip down Shatter
Cave.
Formations in Shatter Cave. Photo by Linda Wilson.
Arriving at the car park with Ben Alterman,
Dan Hill and Merryn Matthews, we had the initial entertainment of
trying to break the ice out of Ben’s boot before we set off into the
foggy quarry. All the pools had completely iced over providing us with
plenty of smashing entertainment on the way to the cave.
Shatter is absolutely incredible. Martin took us through chamber after
chamber of stunning formations. I’ve never been in a cave which is
decorated in the same way, ceaselessly, every metre. We were also
educated as to the nature of Cryo-stal and its recent discovery on
Mendip.
Formations in Shatter Cave. Photo by Linda Wilson.
After leaving Shatter we had a quick jaunt
into W/L exploring both the Crystal Pool and the Dig. We then also stuck
our head into some of the other remnants of Balch’s Cave. We then had a
tour of the rest of the quarry looking for the other cave entrances as
well as exploring the fascinating local geology.
However, the cold was taking its toll and we were glad to get back to the warmth of the MNRC hut.
Zac Woodford
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WHITE FORMATIONS, PURPLE KNEES
Formations in GB Main Chamber. Photo by Linda Wilson.
Getting someone's initial
impression of a cave is always fun to read, and here Dan Hill tells the
tale of his first visit to a cave known and loved by generations of UBSS
members.
On the Sunday morning after our Burns night celebrations, those of us
not too affected by the whisky took a trip to GB. Merryn Matthews,
Zac Woodford, Ben Alterman and I arrived near the cave, got our kit on
and, after a bit of history about the discovery by UBSS, we got
underground.
On our way through the entryway we came across a pair of cavers on their
way out who warned us that the duck we were heading for had completely
sumped and was impassable. They looked quite trustworthy to me, but
Merryn had suspicions about them, so in the end we opted to bring our
tackle-sack anyway, just in case.
We soon made it to the Main Chamber. I was straight away surprised by
how big it was. It was my first time in GB and the huge, ominous
chambers, greenish grey stone and sometimes ceiling-high piles of mud
felt much more in line with south-Wales caves like Agen Allwedd instead
of the cramped, dirty Mendip experience that I was expecting.
We followed a stream down through the Main Chamber which ended suddenly
with some tape telling us to keep out, before dropping off out of view
under a pair of enormous, fang-like stalactites. Zac explained that the
waterfall had been completely buried under a huge pile of rocks, and
since we couldn’t be sure the boulders precariously balanced on top of
the piles of mud surrounding us were particularly stable, it wasn’t an
advisable route.
Graphic by Linda Wilson showing where a very large chunk of the the wall ended up. Jigsaw, anyone?
We instead doubled back and crossed the
Bridge up and over the stream and out of the main chamber. We re-joined
the stream further down but quickly had our way blocked by a sump and
had to put up a ladder to progress (my first ladder action in a cave).
The following section of cave, featuring a very extended crawl, made me
really resent that I hadn’t yet got around to getting myself some
kneepads and meant by the end of the trip my legs were much more purple
that I’m generally used to.
At the end of this crawl, we reached the allegedly impassable duck and
found it with hardly a puddle’s worth of water in it, vindicating
Merryn’s suspicions about the dodgy advice we’d received at the
entrance. We decided that rather than some sort of obscure prank, they
had probably come across the actual impassable sump just after the pitch and assumed that was game over.
On the other side of the duck the landscape of the cave changed to a
confusing pile of boulders with very few discernible landmarks, making
it quite difficult to navigate. We eventually made our way through to
Bat Passage which was full of stalactites so white they looked like
icicles.
There seems to be a sad lack of photos of
Bat Passage and Great Chamber, so have one of formations on the White
Passage route that avoids the rockfall. Photo by Linda Wilson.
On our way back through the boulders, Ben
resolved to find the elusive Great Chamber, and after a bit of
frustration we did it, and I admit it was indeed pretty great. Boulders
from where the ceiling had long-ago collapsed piled up to the top of
chamber, dotted with impressive formations. I was pleased that our visit
to the extremely pretty Shatter Cave the day before hadn’t made the
novelty of some nice flowstone wear off.
On the way back out, Merryn and Ben still had a lot of energy and had
decided to look for the scary-sounding alternate route out: the Devil’s
Elbow. I was exhilarated from discovering that I could in-fact turn my
head-torch up above the minimum setting, so I joined the mission. The
Devil’s Elbow was a narrow, jagged, often confusing passageway. Several
times we would complete a tricky climb only to be faced with three
equally tempting paths, two of which would be dead ends. Luckily for me
and Ben, Merryn took the brunt of this route-finding responsibility,
meaning she was the one that got covered head-to-toe in mud after
crawling down a tunnel which went absolutely nowhere.
It was challenging, but I think the Devil’s Elbow is probably one of the
most satisfying bits of caving I’ve done yet, we even found an animal
skeleton hidden away in there (my first guess was a cat but after
looking at some pictures I think it’s probably a badger).
Dan Hill
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THE PRIMROSE PATH OF DALLIANCE
Ash Gregg sets out to reck his own rede, whatever that means! Photo by Elaine Oliver.
The idiom primrose path was first used by William Shakespeare, in his
1602 play, Hamlet: “Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the
steep and thorny way to heaven; Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless
libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not
his own rede.” The good bard had clearly never taken a trip down
Primrose Pot in Eastwater. There's no dalliance involved, as Elaine
Oliver relates ...
Primrose Pot is a bit of a Mendip rarity, offering those who persevere
with its tight and awkward approach the chance to break out the old SRT
kit for a thrilling descent of almost 60m. A trip to this esoteric
corner of Eastwater has been on my Small List for some time (it’s like a
shortlist but with more squeezes) so I was delighted to convince Ash
and Sioned to join me for a crack at it. Perhaps the name lured them
into a false sense of security?
I arrived at the Wessex full of the joys of spring, albeit an hour late
thanks to a puncture on my cycle back from a chilly but glorious morning
swim, ready to get stuck into some faff. The guidebook description was
somewhat vague on tackle requirements and uses, and only one of the
available Wessex members had previously done the trip – around 50 years
prior. “180 feet of ladders… And (pointing across the room) he don’t
fit!”.
The "useful bar belay". Photo by Elaine Oliver.
One thing the book was clear on, though,
was that it would be much easier to ladder the first pitch rather than
trying to apply SRT kit while straddling the drop immediately after the
squeeze. I remembered a word of advice from Bob Churcher around not
getting tender parts stuck in said ladder, so that decided us on the
merit of downclimbing the first few metres of the pitch and belaying to a
lower bolt, rather than a long tether back through the squeeze. After
that we would deploy SRT, to allow for more streamlined tackle sacks.
That decided, it was simply a question of “guess the length of the
rope”, then a tackle sack apiece, we were soon on our way.
Halfway along the Upper Traverse, at possibly the most inopportune point
for both our routes to cross, we met a team from Cambridge who had been
having a whale of a time in Dolphin Pot. Several wellies to the face
later, we promised to see them that evening and continued down-dip
through Hallelujah Hole to Primrose Path, which is not as bucolic as it
sounds.
And so to Tether Chamber! In this unstintingly named slight widening of
the passage we finalised our lifelining plans and the order we would
descend. I was to play Major Tom and assess the situation on the other
side of the squeeze, whereupon the others would send though all the
tackle and I’d start rigging before they joined me. The squeeze was
reasonably snug, but once free of its embrace, I was pleasantly
surprised at the situation on the pitch head. I set about rigging the
ladder with some vintage bolts and solid naturals, before coaxing
firstly Sioned and then Ash through to join me.
Ash reaches the bottom of the final pitch. Photo by Elaine Oliver.
We put on our harnesses on a more spacious
ledge at the foot of the ladder, before making use of chockstones and
further vintage bolts (plus an old climbing hex) to drop the remainder
of the now much more generously dimensioned rift, which was decorated
with some impressively large fossils and stark white quartz veining
through the black rock. It’s clear from the lack of polish that this
rift doesn’t see too much traffic. The bottom is a cobbled floor, with
dig spoil and a few unappealing ways on, none of which go very far.
Which means the only thing to do is turn around and allow thoughts of
cauli cheese and a pint of Butcombe to levitate us out!
20cm fossil. Photo by Elaine Oliver.
Some consternation occurred back at the
squeeze when it was noted we had not set ourselves up with the advised
footloop through the tube; however, none of us could really see how this
would work in practice. I decided to have a go without it and regained
Tether Chamber with only four rest stops over the 6m distance – I could
then “assist” the others up with a progress capture belay, although it
is debatable whether this setup actually helped in any way.
Glad we brought our own ropes! Photo by Elaine Oliver.
Nevertheless, we all found ourselves on the
correct side of the squeeze, but it was gone 10pm by the time we
reached the icy surface. This led to very great concern around the
long-dreamed-of Hunters dinner. A phone call revealed that if we could
get there in less than 13 minutes the dinner would be ours – you’ve
never seen a quicker change in your life. Nor a happier couple of
potholers by the fire with their pints, safe in the knowledge that they
won’t have to head back there in a hurry...
Elaine Oliver
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FISHING FOR MORE ANSWERS
Adelle Bricking sampling the brambly hedge. Photo by Linda Wilson.
Date: 29th January 2023
Present (but not necessarily correct): Linda Wilson, Graham Mullan, Dr
Adelle Bricking, Anna-Elyse Young, Jake Smith, David Hardwick. Also:
Alfie, Immy, Gwen, Trigger.
Trip report: David Hardwick
Well that was a civilised caving trip!!
Unless you are an adrenaline hunkiest, I expect if you made a list of
things to include on a perfect caving trip it might look like this:
- no going underground
- no need to change into dirty kit
- no getting dirty (except for DH who chose to get muddy anyway)
- no getting wet
- dog friendly
- choice of hot drinks
- food (particularly cake!)
- good company
- intelligent conversation
- Cute furry animals (ALPACAS!!)
From this list most caving trips probably only score 1 or 2 out of 10. Sunday's trip was a definite 10/10.
David Hardwick clearing winter stream debis
from the entrance to Fishmonger's Swallet. A few seconds earlier, his
builder's bum was on full display! Photo by Linda Wilson.
The purpose of the trip was to obtain plant
samples from vegetation growing on different rock outcrops in Alveston,
for a base line reading of strontium. For those not sure why you would
need such a thing a quick explanation.
Most members will know that historic bones including human remains were
discovered by Hades CC cavers in Fishmonger's Swallet (these are now
held by the UBSS museum). It is possible to carry out chemical tests
which will give an indication of the diet of the person the item came
from. Previously, strontium isotope analysis had been done on a single
human tooth from the site as part of one of the filming sessions, the
results of which had suggested a local diet. Comments that they were
looking for bits of pizza to see if they were Romans, missed the point
that it was somewhat more scientific than that, but in effect that was
exactly what was being done. Having said that it isn’t clear what was
used as a base reading as it isn’t even clear whether samples were
taken.
Adelle stroking a rock in the entrance depression. Who are we to judge? Photo by Linda Wilson.
For the current proposal for analysis a base reading determined from local plant growth is going to be used, hence the sampling.
It was a good opportunity to revisit the site again and although nobody
went underground, the gate was checked, and found to be still secure but
covered in flood debris. For those who don’t believe that water goes
into the entrance in wet conditions look at the photos. The winter
weather has clearly brought lots of leaves and other debris down the
stream.
Anna-Elyse Young and one of the many, many sample bags. Photo by Linda Wilson.
Following plant collection, dog
walking and some rock stroking (!!!!) we retired to the relatively
recently opened Alpaca centre with a decent menu of both hot and cold
food followed by looking at the four legged residents the name suggests.
[Editor's note: they were almost impossibly cute and wholesome!]
All in all a very pleasant way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
David Hardwick
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A GULF. A JUNIPER. A PATH. BUT IS IT THE RIGHT ONE?
It's a gulf, but is that a juniper? Photo by Nick Patrick. No accuracy is guaranteed.
We're always on the lookout for
additions to our 100 Memories Project, which aims to collect as many
memories as possible of the club’s past. One classic from the early ‘80s
is the story of how an intrepid trip to Juniper Gulf
took something of a wrong turn on the way back, proving that going
straught on might not always be the best course of action, despite the
club's motto! And lo and behold, with no prompting whatsoever, Nick
Patrick, one of the ill-fated and directionally challenged party has
sent in the following report!
I started caving when I moved up from cubs to scouts at the age of 11.
Living in West Yorkshire we regularly went up to The Dales for camps or
Youth Hostel trips and these trips usually involved a cave then a trip
to Skipton baths for a swim so lovely clean scouts could be returned to
Mum and Dad! Simple times: pumps, shorts, woolly jumper, bobble hat and
torch. This kit list reduced the amount of wet clothing you had to dump
in the corner of your patrol tent. Modern safeguarding of children
undertaking outdoor activities just isn’t the same.
My scout leaders were happy to take us down the likes of Dow Cave
(including the horrendously unstable Hobsons choice boulder choke), Long
Churn, Calf Holes/Browgill, all wonderful introductions to the sport
but I craved more challenges so joined the YSS as they were local to me.
This obviously allowed me to become a proper hard Yorkshire caver or at
least to be guided by the “Bradford Mafia” branch of YSS down proper
hard Yorkshire caves.
Between caving trips, I gathered together
some A levels and was offered a place at Bristol to study Vet Science. I
chose Bristol as the closest university to any caves and that had a vet
course (the university, not the caves.
In October 1981, I checked in for my course on Park Row, then headed to
Freshers in the Union building, found UBSS, signed up and launched into
the best five years, even gaining a BVSc.
One of our most memorable trips was back up in God’s own Yorkshire,
probably the winter of 1981/2 in my first year. We had got into deep SRT
trips, something that was new to me; the YSS had a lot of ladder, miles
of it, but not much SRT rope. Juniper Gulf was chosen and very sensibly
we took a map as it isn’t easy to find. The map was perfect as was the
navigation.
From memory there was Chris Shirt, Martin Warren, Mike Martin, Steve
McArdle and I think Little Mick too (Mike McHale, to those who know him
now). I’m pretty sure Mick was in charge of ropes as on one of the
pitches the rope was too short, or it was for him on the way back up!
Anyway, we got to the bottom and back to the entrance pitch which drops
straight off the moor (a gulf with a juniper bush in one corner, of all
things). I was first up the pitch and found it was dark and foggy
outside but that gave a wonderful lighting effect as the rest climbed
the pitch with lamp beams highlighting the fog. I had that wonderful
feeling of achievement mixed with a bit of exhaustion but was enjoying
the light show.
The long way home, taken from Juniper Gulf
looking across to Pen-y-Gent. You can see the wall we were aiming for.
Don't forget to let your imagination supply the fog! Photo by Nick
Patrick.
Once we got all the gear packed in tackle
bags, we got the map out, checked the route back to Crummack Farm and
set off. The first bit to find was a wall, no problem. Chris was getting
a bit worried but glad to see the wall. We found the gate through the
wall then went off looking for the track down to the farm. With your
back to the wall, walk straight ahead and you have to hit the track,
which we did. We sat down for a rest and to reassure Chris, who was
getting increasingly worried in the dark and thick fog. We stood up and
continued our walk along the track we had found, happily dreaming of the
transit van at the end of it and the pub before closing time.
Facing to the right (south) and you can see
the path we should have taken snaking away on the far side of the wall.
Photo by Nick Patrick.
Major panic from Chris at this point who
was protesting that we were walking back towards Juniper Gulf. He was
obviously getting cold and irrational, so we carried on re-assuring him
as we went along, upping the pace to keep warm. We walked for miles and
miles. No Transit, no farm; no features on the ground matched anything
on the map. We hadn’t a clue where we were but we were on a path, and it
went downhill so we just kept walking. Eventually we reached Horton in
Ribblesdale, nowhere near where we had parked and light years from
Bentham where we were staying.
At this point, it was getting very close to closing time and that is
rescue call out time. We didn’t want to drag the CRO up to Juniper Gulf
only to find we were not there. Martin decided to put on his best
Devonian accent and push me into The Crown in Horton “because I was a
local and could speak the lingo”. They laughed at me (wetsuited and
still sporting all my SRT rig) “evenin’ Spiderman, what’s up, pal?’ or
words to that effect. I explained our predicament and asked if we could
use their phone. I was pointed to their pay phone. I explained that we
didn’t actually have any money to pay for the phone. I was given a
couple of 10p coins by the landlord. The rest of our party were in the
pub in Clapham, so I rang and thankfully they were there and the very
kind Dr Boycott drove over to pick us up. As we were sitting outside The
Crown waiting for Tony, the landlord came out with some beers for us on
the house. They hadn’t had such a laugh in there for a long time.
Artist's impression of the fateful walk by Graham Mullan from details supplied by Nick Patrick. Again, accuracy not guaranteed!
I’ve re-walked that route a few times since
then and the terrible thing is that poor Chris Shirt was right all
along. We had turned through 180 degrees when we sat down for a rest,
but we did look after him. The other lesson learnt was that a map
without a compass in fog is pretty useless!
I guess there’s an App for such emergencies these days, but I’d rather stick with a map and of course a compass.
Nick Patrick
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DON'T CUT THE RED WIRE!
Are you sure I shouldn't cut the red wire?
And yes, I do have raccoon pyjamas, don't judge me! These were all the
wires connecting me to the Big Machines.
Linda Wilson has been a complete
drama llama this month, hence the very late appearance of the January
newsletter. We'll let her tell the story in her own words...
To quote the incomprable Granny Weatherwax from Discworld, I ATEN'T
DEAD! That's a good start, isn't it? To cut a long story short, on 31st
January, I was admitted to Southmead Hospital with reduced heart
function, probably as a result of a virus. Scary things, viruses. If I
hadn't decided to take matters into my own hands and ignore a year of
fobbing off and misdiagnosis to stagger into the Big Medical House, you
might have been looking for a new member of the editorial team. There,
definitely a drama llama!
As as a result of state of the art drugs and fantastic care, I was
discharged after 17 days, thoroughly institutionalised and demanding two
slices of toast and marmalade every morning as that's what nice people
had been giving me for brekkie every morning! I'm very much hoping
for a return to what passes for normal for me, meaning cold water
swimming and caving. To their credit, none of the medical staff have
told me I'd better lower my sights, although to the person in the rehab
team who said: "We'll get you back underground in a wetsuit yet!", I
equally promptly responded: "I do hope not. I've not worn one of those
bloody things for years!" That was followed by a chat about modern
caving gear. I won't be aiming to do Juniper Gulf with Nick Patrick, but
then I didn't fancy it in the early '80s, either!
My thanks to all the cavers, old and young, who have offered kind words
and the inevitable piss-taking, especially to Mia who sent loads of
supportive messages while I was stuck in A&E, even offering to
masquerade as my daughter if there was a restriction on visitors! (There
wasn't.)
So there's now a full team of llamas editing this august rag, the
Committee Llama and the Drama Llama, although I do hope that there won't
be any more drama in my life for quite a while!
Linda Wilson
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I DID IT, ALPHONSE, I READ TO THE END!
Getting emails from those hardy souls who read to the end then click the
link to let us know they've done it always brightens your editors'
lives (yes, we are irritatingly needy, but try doing this job, and
you'll understand!), so please keep them coming, or we'll have to start
generating them from ChatGPT.
There are still various prizes that need handing out, so hopefully we'll
see loads of our contributors at the AGM and annual dinner! You haven't
been forgotten!
The winner this week is Chris Howes, who was the first to congrtualte
last month's guest star, the very lovely Reginald, so many congrats to
Chris!
- Happy New Year, Reg :) [Chris Howes]
- Lovely newsletter, as always! Having been in a group of ‘cats’
of which herding was difficult in Brown’s Folly, I do sympathise! But
it’s a fascinating place. The Douyme caves are great fun. I’m looking
forward to the Kent’s Cavern work! [Jan Walker]
- Another excellent newsletter, clearly lots going on. Linda, you
certainly do get around… we just need to get you to Mulu…! [Andy
Farrant]
- Good work, everyone, and thanks for all the newsletters during
2022. The graffiti project sounds fascinating and I’m looking forward to
hearing more about it. Compliments of the season from me and da bear
(the blessed, which autocorrected to Essex, FT. I can assure you he’s
most definitely a Midlander!). [Sharon Wheeler]
- Happy new year!! Great secret santas. [Mia Jacobs]
- Sally went caving? Blimey! Perhaps I won’t give away the rest of my gear, after all. [Diick Willis]
- A big variety of interesting articles and photos; reading to the end is a pleasure - no need for a prize! [Patricia Hill]
- Another great newsletter, and yes, I do owe a few people a trip to the bath stone mines. [Zac Woodford]
- I did it, Bootle Bearkins, I read to the end! Nothing better to
do late on a Saturday afternoon after a wander across a very cold Bal
Bach in a part of the Brecon Beacons guaranteed to have no caves at all
so I decided to make a start on clearing out my inbox (life in the fast
lane !) and found the unread Nov 21 newsletter. Enjoyable read,
especially SRT in Rhino, brought back great memories [actually that’s
bull**** as Marco, aka the Italian Stallion, took me there on my first
SRT trip]. The bat photos were great, and when I get a round tuit I will
of course dig out my cold water swimming photos, although you may need
(an albeit small) star to cover parts of my anatomy which really do have
to be exposed when cold water swimming ! Happy New Year to you
both. [Still the Reluctant Caver] [Editors' Note: the
identity of our occasional correspondent known as The Reluctant Caver
remains a closely guarded secret, but we're always open to guesses, wild
or otherwise!]
I did it, Alphonse, I read to the end!
THE END
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