Review 2004

This is the first ‘Review’ by Burnley Caving Club since 1994, and a ten-year gap, but I hope it contains something of interest for everyone. The importance of regular newsletters and ‘Reviews’ cannot be overstressed. They should both contain details of the clubs activities—details upon which present, past and future members can look back on, and which sends out the message to others in the caving world, that we are still an active and respected caving club.

Last weeks caving trip, if written down also becomes part of the clubs history—so please, for future newsletters let me have details of the trips, including photos for inclusion. The article on Bury Cave and Pothole Club shows the importance of writing down records. Newsletters and ‘Reviews’ are all about the club and its activities (or should be) by definition I am only the editor, one who edits—so please give me something to edit.

I’d like to thank all those who made contributions to this publication, and to Chris Bosomworth, Simon Mitchell, Bernie Bond and Wayne Brown for stepping into the breach and acting as editors during the past year or so.

Their efforts are truly appreciated. Publicity attracts attention, and I have made some efforts to get the club recognised in various departments. Posters have been placed in all the local libraries, including branch libraries advertising the club and its activities. ‘Calling cards’ have also been placed on the counter in various sport shops, such as Inglesport, Bernies, Fell and Mountain and Cave and Cragg giving details of the contact number for the club secretary, and info on the clubs website. The media has also been involved to great advantage—see also the inside contents. The club is also now listed regularly in the ‘Over The Hills’ section of the Burnley Express.

Also on the ‘Society Notice Board’ of the Lancashire Evening Telegraph. Next year is also the clubs 55^th anniversary, and as we plan for these celebrations, we also need to plan for the future—new members are the future, and it is these we need to attract. On a lighter note, this year saw club chairman Simon Mitchell’s 30^th birthday, (There’s a lot of birthdays this year!) and a jolly good ‘bash’ was had by all, and we wish him all the best for the future. We’d also like to welcome to the club, new members Barbara Taylor and Janet Roberts. Mark Goodwin, Ken Hurst and his daughter Heather.

If you have any contributions to make to future newsletters and/or Reviews please hand them over to me. These might be a suggestion on running the club, some caving equipment you are selling, a cave you might want to be included in the meets list, or simply a report on a trip you made recently. The preferred format would be on floppy disk, but anything written down on a piece of scrap paper, or even a typed document would also be suitable. When making trip reports please include the names of those taking part in full throughout the document—it’s frustratingly difficult to find out just who was ‘J.C.’ when halfway through a report. The caving club log book has also been replaced at the clubrooms, you can type a report out at home if you want and insert it, (it’s in a loose leaf format) or just jot some details down in the book. I now look forward to a flood of reports and articles for future newsletters—and thank you all in anticipation.

Editor, Jack Nadin (To contact the Editor click )

Coal mining history is a fascinating subject to study, as both Bernie Bond and myself know. Tens of thousands of lives were lost from the 1840s onwards in the quest for coal—this was the true price of putting the ‘Great’ in Britain, the price paid by the miners working underground. At least half a dozen men are known to have perished at the Ingleton Colliery—that’s right Ingleton did have a colliery, during its relatively short life from July 1913 to its closure in the 1930s. It’s gratifying then, that at last a memorial to the Ingleton mining industry has now been unveiled.

A project, which very much involved our Bernie. The monument was unveiled in June 2004, see below.

Craven Herald, Friday 18 June 2004:
Village unveils monument to its mining heritage

A MONUMENT to mark Ingleton's coal mining heritage was officially unveiled this week. The parish council commissioned the memorial after being approached by local resident Bernard Bond, who was determined to unearth the history of mining in the area. The stone plinth was donated by Hanson quarries and the mining connection is highlighted with a set of original coal truck wheels and an axle, which Mr Bond had unearthed from a nearby allotment. The monument is situated at the road junction of Laundry Lane and the A65.

In the past Ingleton had a significant coal mining industry, which in the early decades of the last century played a major role in the industrial life of the area. In July 1913 two shafts were sunk next to the A65, reaching massive coal seams of nine and ten feet in depth.

By 1921, 2,000 tons of coal were being extracted per week and were delivered as far afield as Barrow, Hull and even France. At its peak the New Ingleton Colliery employed nearly 900 people to extract and process the coal. Today there is little sign of the existence of a coal industry, as the buildings have been demolished and the land farmed over since mining ended in the 1930s. However, Ingleton has its miners to thank for its open-air swimming pool. Dug out voluntarily it opened in 1934 and remains a valuable village resource, as does New Village, which was built to house the workers and their families.

BBC and Burnley Caving Club.

What is Caving?

In these days of political correctness we might be called upon to answer the question posed above. Is caving a sport then? Well no—‘sport’ is an activity that involves an individual or a team that competes against each other. We don’t compete against each other—or at least I wouldn’t like to think so, although it might be argued that we compete against nature. Is caving a hobby then? Well, maybe, this is described as being ‘an activity followed regularly for pleasure’

So is caving an activity? It’s certain you are active when crawling through mud and water, or climbing a ladder deep underground, but is it pleasurable? Pleasure is described as ‘A feeling of happy satisfaction and enjoyment, and event or activity from which one derives enjoyment’ Well, I think that describes caving for most of us, especially when just about to dive through a freezing icy duck, or getting changed in the depths of winter on the Kingsdale road.

So for future reference, when asked ‘What is caving?’ You should reply ‘Caving is a pleasurable activity hobby’. This might (probably will) raise further questions, especially from an unconverted potholer during ‘normal’ nonsensical pub conversations, such as. ‘So why do you go caving?’ To which you should then reply ‘We go caving, because the caves are there, and if they weren’t there, we wouldn’t be able to go caving, because you can’t go caving if caves don’t exist’. Isn’t that pretty obvious? Next silly question please!

We normally associate lead mining with the Yorkshire Dales, and the Peak District of Derbyshire—but lead was also mined here in east Lancashire. The first reference we have to lead and the mining of lead ore is in 1627, when the ore was discovered on Dean Scout Thieveley, possibly by the tenant farmer here, Robert Hartley who was diverting a moorland stream into the farmyard. Dean Scout and Thieveley are the high parts of the Cliviger Gorge on the right hand side of the road going from Burnley through to Todmorden at Holme-in-Cliviger. The discovery however was later credited to a relation of Robert Hartley, Godfrey Mercer who’d worked in the lead mines at Derbyshire, and another Derbyshire miner Humphrey Greaves. But it was to be two Rochdale clothiers named Ralph Highley and William Butler who were to start the first lead mine at Thieveley having obtained Orders from the Duchy of Lancaster to ‘Search for, to dig, and smelt lead ore of the Cliviger Wastes, and to sell the lead produced’. The two partners engaged men to sink shafts to work the ‘Derbyshire’ system, and employed women to wash the ore.

A small smelt mill was built on site operated by two-foot bellows—all the metal for the turntrees, for hauling the ore out of the shaft, the tools and bellows were supplied by the local blacksmiths at Cliviger, Nicholas Balife and John Lonsdale, smithies at Mereclough and Stiperden are also mentioned. Thieveley is a desolate spot, even now, and the partners were obliged to scour the hillsides for timber for the shafts and workings, and brushwood for the smelt house furnace. Timber was also purchased from the freehold farmers in Cliviger, such as John Towneley, Peter Ormerod and Richard Barcroft. Men were thus engaged in cutting and carrying the timbers by packhorse trains to the isolated mine. Parts of these packhorse trails can still be seen running from Holme-in-Cliviger, over the Calder past Old Pot Oven Farm. Beyond here, through an interesting ginnel, the route becomes cobbled underfoot with stone built retaining walls sloping outwards towards the top to accommodate the loads on the ponies’ backs. Highley and Butler were soon in trouble with their Thieveley mine, and had to dismiss the Derbyshire miners, while they tackled themselves the flooding of the mines, and other difficulties at the smelt mill.

Just two years later, in 1629, Charles I had decided to rule the country without Parliament, and desperate for cash turned to his Duchy of Lancaster for ways of raising money. A decision was therefore taken to take over the Thieveley lead mine for ‘the King’s profit’. Six of the local gentry were commissioned to make an official investigation into the wealth of the mine and its prospects, and if possible to discredit both Highley and Butler. This wasn’t too difficult, after all, Highley and Butler were of course having trouble with making the mine workings profitable, and in 1630 it was instructed to operate the mine for the King—the first case of Nationalisation?. Under the new management, advise was sought from John Talbot of Carr Hall in Wilpshire, who instructed that a drainage adit should be driven into the hillside 60 yards below the surface of the mine and that new bellows should be obtained for the smelt mill. In spite of opencast mining in this area during the 1950s, I think I have been able to locate the above mentioned drainage adit. This lies in the valley below the former Thieveley Farm, now a ruin. Although this is only around two feet wide and a foot high, it might still be possible to get at these ancient workings, and have own local mine to explore!

Money for the new adit and the bellows had to come from somewhere, and it wasn’t from the sale of lead from the Thieveley mine—because the smelt mill was totally uneconomical. To test the ore, two horse loads were sent to the water-powered mill at Grassington. The ore proved to be very pure in rich in lead—the Thieveley smelting plant was closed down, and plans put forward for a water-powered mill nearer to the River Calder. By 1632, the drainage adit had been driven, and Richard Towneley of Towneley agreed to purchase and carry away all the ore from the mine. The location of the smelt mill can deduced from Furnace Dam, a farm shown on the first edition of the OS Map of 1844. This was later renamed Calderhead Farm, this has been demolished, but one of its fields is called Furnace Dam Field. The smelting mill was by all means a success—but short lived, the first flush of ore from the mine proved to be a flash in the pan. Despite desperate efforts during which a further two shafts were sunk to a depth of 200, little ore could be found, and the mine was closed down in January 1635.

Thus ended the mining endeavours by the Towneley’s at Thieveley, but they appear to have been reopened, and after a period of almost 370 years, from when mining first began it is still possible to pick up bits of minerals behind the old Thieveley Farm from old spoil heaps.

There were other attempts to mine lead in East Lancashire, one of which began in the middle of the 1750s by a firm variously named ‘The Clitherow Mining Co.’ ‘The Clitherow Company of Miners’ and the ‘Mine Adventurers Company’. The office of this company was located at Dunnockshaw between Rawtenstall and Burnley. The first entry in this company books are dated August 16^th 1753, and are for ‘the expenses of Mr Percival and Mr R. Kershaw’s journey to view Thieveley, which cost thirteen shillings’. In April, Thieveley was taken on lease, and agents were sent to Derbyshire to engage the miners’ to work the ore. On April 22^nd. mining operations were again begun at Thieveley. On the 29^th April wages were paid out at Dunnockshaw by George Crompton, clerk. In the following year, the company issued the following advertisement:-

‘1754, Notice is hereby given, that the lessees of the lead mines, veins or beds of lead, copper, iron or tin, lying and being in any of the copyhold lands, wastes, commons and waste grounds belonging to the wapentake of Blackburnshire, and the several manors of Ightenhill, Coln,Chatburn, Worston, Pendleton, Accrington and Tottington, in the honor of Clithero, and county of Lancaster, hereby propose to let any mere, or mere grounds within the manors or liberty aforesaid, with free liberty to search, sough and drain, dig and delve for the same, to any person or persons, for a term to be agreed upon, not exceeding fifteen years, in some parts of which manors and liberties, a large quantity of lead ore has been lately got. For further particulars enquire of Thomas Percival, of Royton, Thomas Jackson, of Manchester, or John Hargreaves of Newchurch-in-Rossendale, all in the said county of Lancaster, who are empowered to treat for the same. Manchester. Printed by Joseph Harrop, opposite the Exchange, where printing in general is neatly and cheaply performd

The places where this company went in search for ore, or opened mines included Thieveley, Black Clough (below Thieveley) Gambleside (the far side of the reservoir at Clowbridge) Dunnockshaw, Thornybank Clough (at the back of the Hapton Inn, Hapton) Goodshaw Hill (Rossendale) Baxenden, Pendle and Worston in Pendle. Mention is also made of Bolland, Rivington and Brennand, but the ore from these places appears to have been obtained by purchase. The remains of these old lead mines can, even now be traced in the form of old drifts, or levels, shafts, dressing floors and spoil heaps which are so impregnated with lead that vegetation refuses to cover them.

This company too built a smelt mill this time at Copula Clough at Great Hambledon. This is where the transmitting masts are on the right hand side going towards Rawtenstall from Burnley. This smelt mill was begun in June 1755, and completed in December at a cost of £61.7s.2 ½ d The furnace was built at the bottom of a valley with the flue running up to the chimney on higher ground—like that at Grassington. Tradition says that a man crawled through the flue for a wager, but died from the effects of the vapours he inhaled during his progress. The company however never made a profit, and was wound up in 1766. Notwithstanding this, another company was formed in December 1768, mostly from the old shareholders—but it never really got off the ground and the books were closed. From time to time other individuals have made attempts to mine lead in the area, particularly around Thornybank Clough as late as the 1870s, but in every instance the adventurers failed.

On the Burnley and Todmorden road, and about a mile and half from the road, stands Robin Wood Mill, passing, through which you enter Cat Holes Clough. Half a mile up here was the Cat Hole Clough Lead Mines, which were first worked around 1755. On the right hand side of the stream was a drift that ran about three quarters of a mile into the hillside. Here there is a large spoil heap near the entrance with quantities of sulphate of barium with a little lead. At the same time this mine was opened up, another mining company began operations in Leadmine Clough and Stansfield Moor—but this company was equally unsuccessful and gave up mining.

About 1835, some Welsh miners, backed by two gentlemen of the district, reopened the Cat Hole Clough Mine. A few tons of ore was extracted, but again the cost was beyond its value. In 1869, the Cat Hole Clough was once again reopened by a limited liability company, which after spending £500 in a two-year search for the ore gave without making a penny, and turned their attention to the more profitable business of brick making. Soon after this the price of lead fell making any more attempts to mine the ore unrealistic, not only in east Lancashire but through the Yorkshire Dales and the Derbyshire Peak District. All that remains today are the relicts of this bygone industry.

JACK NADIN

OUR OWN PENYGHENT POT SOLOIST, JIM PENNY IS IN THE NEWS
Lancashire Evening Telegraph, October 2nd 2004
Plucky Jim!

By the time they reach the age of 70, many people think about slowing down and taking things easy. But not Jim Penny, who is eager to sample more of life's challenges. He spoke to JENNY SCOTT. . . IT'S not every pensioner who can do 86 press-ups in a minute and whose hobbies include roller-blading around the parks of Padiham. But then Jim Penny, 70, isn't the type to spend his retirement relaxing in a rocking chair watching Countdown. Jim's hobbies include potholing, mountain climbing, abseiling and white water rafting and, so dedicated is he to the pursuit of extreme sports, his family have nicknamed him Crazy Grandad.

"I've been very lucky that, for what I've done, I've picked up so few injuries," said Jim, who isn't about to start taking life easy just yet. An ex-miner who worked down the Hapton Valley pit, Jim's introduction to his heart-stopping hobbies began back in 1950 when he joined the newly-formed Burnley Caving Club at the age of 16. "I saw the advert in a newspaper," he said, "and, because I was a miner, I was used to being underground.

"Potholing appealed to me because I liked the idea of going where other people have never been before. "There are lots of unexplored caves and I wanted to see these things other people have never seen. One of the best areas for caving is around the Yorkshire Dales and that was where we used to go." And the thrills came thick and fast. In 1971, Jim became the only person to make a solo trip into the 570ft deep Penyghent Pot -- at that time the deepest pot in England. He said: "I did it in four-and-a-half hours with five ladders and a 200ft rope." Two years later, while on a cave dive, Jim actually discovered a whole new cave, which he named Baker's System after a friend.

However, the thrill of caving still did not sate Jim's appetite for thrills and, in the early '80s, he found a new passion -- climbing. He said: "The climbing started when a lad joined the caving club who enjoyed that kind of thing. He would take us out climbing and we would take him out caving." Jim loved the physical challenge of climbing. And his new hobby didn't exactly lack excitement. While climbing in the Italian Dolomites with three friends, Jim was struck by lightning. "We got help up on the climb and it was dark by the time we got to the top," he said. "We managed to abseil a little way down, but it became too dark to see, so we sat on a 10 inch ledge to wait until morning. I was getting cold, so a friend gave me one of those foil blankets to wrap around myself. Then this storm blew up and I've never heard thunder so loud in my life.

"The lightning struck, crackled through my blanket, hit my exposed leg and threw me off the ledge. Fortunately, we'd tied ourselves on, so I was able to climb back up the rope, but I lost the use of my leg for about nine hours. I was hopping about when we abseiled down the next morning." Caution, though, is not a word in Jim's vocabulary and the experience did nothing to dampen his adventurous spirit.

Soon he was back to his crazy ways -- jumping off bridges before the words "bungee jumping" had even been invented. He said: "My mates suggested we jump off Reed Viaduct, but when we got there, none of them would do it, so I said I would."

Although Jim claims he wouldn't repeat such a hair-raising escapade these days, he has plenty of others lined up. "My son's just bought a jet-ski which we're going to take to Southport to try out," he said. He also enjoys rollerblading in the local parks and going climbing with his two granddaughters.

It was while on one of these climbing trips Jim encountered a famous face. He met Hunter, from the TV show Gladiators, at Leeds climbing wall. "He got halfway up the wall, but he couldn't get any further," recalled Jim. "Then I had a go and climbed all the way to the top. They couldn't shut me up afterwards -- I'd beaten Hunter the Gladiator!"

Such triumphs aside, however, Jim is keen to encourage anybody who wants to get involved in climbing to contact his club -- Barden Climbing Club -- and give it a go. "Unlike most sports," he said, "climbing is an activity people can keep doing for much longer. You have your ups and downs, you have your good days and bad days, but it's always a good laugh."

Good on yer Jim, keep it up. (ED)

Bury Cave and Pothole Club

A while back the club came into possession of some remarkable archive material—an old logbook with surveys, sketches and accounts of caves in the late 1930s, and early 1940s, long before Norman Thornber’s ‘Pennine Underground’ was even thought about. The material belonged to the Bury Cave and Pothole Club, which was under the secretary ship of one Richard Simpson of 204 Rochdale Road, Bury. One gets the impression that they weren’t a proper caving club, but a group of youths out in the Dales enjoying themselves.

Jack Nadin has transcribed the following from the original documents. An account of their activities was also recorded in the Bury Times on Wednesday October 15^th 1941:-

"Inverted Alpinism Give them their Thrills

Bury men’s pastime is exploiting subterranean passages’

Few of the townspeople know of the enterprise, determination and interest of a small band of tough Bury men calling themselves the Bury Cave and Pothole Club. A sporting organisation, which claims to be the most original in the locality. Many people have been heard to ask ‘What is this cave and pothole club?’. Well, it began like this. In 1939, three young Bury men, Richard Simpson and his pals J. Garvey and W. Taylor were on a cycling holiday in Derbyshire. ‘What about crawling into a cave’ Garvey said.

‘And so it began’ said Richard Simpson of 204 Rochdale Road, who is secretary of the club. ‘We knew nothing at all about the sport. We didn’t realise that there were scientific methods of examining caves and potholes, we started right from scratch’. ‘We were so intrigued by exploring caves, we decided to spend Whitsun Holiday at Ingleton. We went in show caves to give ourselves an idea what to look for. When we came home, we interested other people in exploring caves. After a lot of trouble we managed to make ourselves a 40-foot ladder (rope). We were very keen on camping, so we decided to spend some time in Yorkshire and try it out down a pothole. We chose Hull Pot, at Horton-in-Ribblesdale. It was like a very big quarry. We used no lifeline, and I went first, lowering myself gingerly. When they saw I was safe, the others came slowly down’.

‘The fascination for exploring caves was so strong, we decided to take it up seriously and form a Bury Club, with the idea of obtaining subscriptions to by our own necessary tackle, rope, rope ladders, helmets and head lamps. The thrill of ‘Inverted Alpinism’ as we call it, made people join us. It is a hundred times more dangerous than mountaineering, but far more interesting, and there are surprisingly few injuries among enthusiasts. In 1940, we really got going, and the lot of us, mostly youth’s got quiet experienced.

The War caused some difficulty though, and this last season we have done exceptionally well with only five members. We chiefly select the caves and potholes of Yorkshire for our sport’. With the exception of the British Speleological Society, the Bury Cave and Pothole Club is the only one in the country to continue its activities despite the War.

DID YOU KNOW?
That it was once argued during a court case regarding White Scar Caves that although a person might own the rocks and land around a cave, they wouldn’t necessary own the cave itself, because it was just a space. And no one can own a space!

As the secretary of the club points out, it is not only sport, combining cycling, camping and fresh air, but it can be of immense material value. At Skirwith, Ingleton, where the club has made its headquarters, a new cave system was mapped out by the Bury Club, and in the periodical ‘The British Caver’ an account of how the Bury party opened up the cave will be given. So, from the casual exploration of a cave grew a serious and progressive local organisation that has found countless thrills and made valuable discoveries in crawling along the pitch-black caves and descending into the dark stuffy abyss. Accurate records of all explorations and descents are kept by the secretary of the club.

From June 3^rd 1939, until the present, accounts of the expeditions have been written by the secretary, and maps and plans on opening up new passages have been drawn. The 1941 season has ended, but the Secretary of the club has been invited to co-operate with B.S.A., in opening up a vast new cave system in Yorkshire during the winter months.

Nor have the club’s expeditions been without thrills.This season after a descent into the 300-foot Rift Pot at Clapham, near settle, the Bury party found that they had to leave much of their tackle in the pothole. At midnight, one night, they started laboriously to haul it up. Six weeks passed before the tackle was brought safely up the pothole, and the last ladder to be hauled out slipped and fell 50 feet. But, struggling down pitch after pitch, members of the party succeeded in recovering it. The Secretary Richard Simpson, has also had his share of thrills. Going into Skirwith Cave, he was edging his way round a lake, ten feet in depth. He made a grab for a stone—missed it, and plunged to the bottom of the icy cold water. Another of the party, trying his hand at abseiling with the rope over his shoulder and under his thigh, twisted it round his knee, and finished up hanging upside down in a dangerous pothole. ‘Many of our members serving in the Forces are longing to be back with their ropes and tackle’ said Richard. ‘We shall carry on next season, and after the War hope to open out more and more caves’.

And now the young adventurer’s, that were Bury Caving and Pothole Club give us an account of their explorations and holiday in Yorkshire, in what appears to have been Whitsuntide, and/or the summer of 1939. What a wonderful account of a more rural Yorkshire Dales than we know today, an account of over sixty years ago—I almost wish I was with there with them! The youthful explorers began their journey at Sawley, midway between Whalley and Gisburn.

‘Leaving Sawley, we crossed the River Ribble and travelled along the lovely lanes, passing Copy Nook, and continued to climb until we reached a point on the road named Lane Side.

From this point we had fine views across Ribblesdale, and the hills around Settle. Away in the distance, we could see Penyghent. Continuing our journey, we had a long downhill run to Wigglesworth, where we spent a few moments at the Plough Inn, later to be one of our favourite haunts. A mile or two of up hill and down, and we passed through the village of Rathmell, and then we enjoyed a level run into Settle and had dinner.

After our dinner, we spent a few minutes wandering round the old town, then returning to our cycles, we went on our journey.

Proceeding through the main street, we crossed the Ribble Bridge, and the road then climbed gradually for one and a half mile or so. In a slight dip in the road we visited the ebbing and flowing well, which is situated on the right hand side of the road. From the well, it is wise if cycling to conserve ones energy, and walk to the summit of Buckshaw Brow, thus in 2 ½ miles the road climbs some 300 feet. From the summit, we had a fine view. We decided to visit Giggleswick Scar, which rises up, from the right hand side of the road. A short climb and we reached the top of the scar, and visited the nearby Kinsey Cave, a small dry cave, but with signs of excavation. Two other small caves were visited, then we returned to our cycles and continued our journey.

After a long climb up Buckshaw Brow, we enjoyed the long descent on the other side to Harden Bridge, at which point we stopped to admire the scenery—away to our right was Austwick, nestling among the hills, Clapdale Scars and Long Scar raising away in the distance, and to the right Feezor Pot Scar. Two miles along the road we passed quickly through the village of Clapham, and across the common near Goat Gap Farm, we halted on the bridge, which carries the road over the railway. Looking north, we could see Leck Fell, Scales Moor and many other hills, and to our right Ingleborough, and the White Scars. We sent a few moments taking photographs, then, tearing ourselves away from the marvellous views, we had a fast downhill run, passing Moorgarth Hall on the left, and on into Ingleton with its stone houses and quaint old church. From Ingleton we proceeded along the main road through the village, reaching a forked road, the right is a secondary road back to Clapham.

The left fork is the Hawes road, which we followed. After pushing up a steep hill, we were able to ride for a distance. A mile from the village we saw a clump of trees, on our left, with a cart track leading to a farm, this was Skirwith Farm, and the potholing headquarters o the B.C.P.C. There was a fine view from the Hawes road, to the north are Twistleton Scars, and along the far side of the valley was Whernside, and nestling in the valley was Chapel-le-Dale. On the right side of the valley is Ingleborough, and the White Scars. From Skirwith we proceeded along the switch-back road, passing the famous White Scar Caves, on the right hand side of the road. After cycling about 3 miles, we reached Chapel-le-Dale.

A signpost on the left pointed the way to Weathercote Cave. Looking behind us, we had fine views of Ingleborough, rising high above the limestone scars. Then we followed the drive to Weathercote Cave, which we found surrounded by a wall, entrance is through a gate which was kept locked, and usually is. We approached the nearby house and got a key, for which a small charge is made, which goes to charity. From the house a well defined path led back to the cave. Entering, we walked down the rough rock steps, beneath a magnificent rock bridge, covered in glistening moss. On a small ledge, and in narrow clefts, we could see pools of crystal clear water. Reaching as far as possible without getting wet, we viewed the surroundings. From a hole high above, the stream plunged with a roar into the cave, losing itself among the boulders below, and throwing up clouds of spray. From the hole where the stream emerges, is a large rock, which is wedged in, and known as ‘Mohamed’s Coffin’.

From Weathercote Cave we followed the dry stream bed along a narrow valley for a short distance, and soon spotted Gingle Pot. We had no tackle for exploration, and had to be content with a view of the entrance. It appeared as a rift running from north to south, between two high rock walls. A short distance away from Gingle Pot, in S.W., direction we visited Hurtle Pot. Entrance was made through a gap in the rocks, and then a scramble down a steep sandy-bank to a point where further exploration was impracticable. A pool occupies the pothole, which deepens as it reaches the opposite wall, which has been undermined by the action of the water. When a stone is thrown into the water, the water makes a gurgling sound as it laps against the rock walls of the cave.

Next day we left Skirwith and walked towards Ingleton, until we reached Storrs Hall Common. Leaving the road, we walked across the Common, and passed through a stile, after paying the entrance fee of three pence. We then walked along a narrow path until we reached the first of the falls, which is Snowfalls. The walk then continued through a narrow gorge, Baxenghyl Gorge, wooded cliffs towered above on each side, while below Dale Beck rushed through the boulder strewn stream bed.

TIME SHIFT
Evening Chronicle 25th November 1947
‘A bottle of poison was found by the side of one of the two skeletons discovered three months ago in potholes under 2,370 ft Ingleborough. This was stated when the inquests were held at Skipton today. One skeleton was found on August 24th by James Jackson Leach, electrician of Great Harwood, and another man when exploring a small pothole near Trow Ghyll. The other was found on August 31st in the 360 feet deep Gaping Ghyll, the largest pothole in the country.
Mr L.C. Nicholls, director of the Home Office, said that a small bottle containing sodium cyanide had been found with the Trow Ghyll body. It was possible that a lethal dose had been taken by the dead man. No trace of poison was found in the clothes or bones. He formed the impression that death took place in 1941. An open verdict was returned on the first skeleton’

Next we reached Bleazley Hall Farm, followed quickly by Twistleton Hall Farm, were we had refreshments, with a fine view of the Ingleton Valley below. Continuing along the path, we crossed the footbridge over Kingsdale, or Thornton Beck. Beyond the bridge, we visited Raven Ray, then Thornton Force, which is probably the most impressive of the falls. From a high limestone escarpment, the beck plunges into a deep pool below, and in dry weather it is possible to get behind the fall, but in wet weather it is unwise.

Finally we reached Pecca Falls, and then enjoyed a pleasant stroll through Swilla Glen, and on into Ingleton. The same day, Simpson, Reynolds and I visited White Scar Caves, situated ¼ mile along the Hawes Road from Skirwith. The entrance fee was one shilling, and led by a guide we walked along a manmade passage until we reached the natural cave passages.

From this point everything was exactly the same as when discovered, except for the lighting and the boards covering the stream for the comfort of the sightseers. The caves are rich in formations, grottoes, avens etc. The cave extends for ¼ mile below the hills, and the guide told us we could go no further.

He pointed along the narrow passage, and told us of explorations still in progress, of an underground lake, and then a second, and still the cave continues hundreds of feet below the slopes of Ingleborough.

Hull Pot, Ribblesdale—Saturday, no date given. First actual ladder descent into a pothole by Simpson and Garvey, later Taylor made the descent.

Leaving Settle on Saturday night, we pushed our cycles loaded with camping kit and fifty feet of rope ladder up Constitution Hill. Then mounting our bikes we travelled up through Stainforth and along the dale to the quiet country village of Horton-in-Ribblesdale. We reached Horton just as darkness was streaking the sky. Leaving the main road, we walked and cycled along a rough track which led up by the side of the Vicarage. We followed the lane for two miles to a point where it merged onto the open moorland. We pushed our cycles to a point where a great chasm opened up in the moorland, roughly reticular in shape.

The chasm was roughly 200 feet long, and 60 feet in depth, at the opposite side, a stream, Hull Pot Beck tumbled into the pot with a great roar. On a previous visit, there was no stream entering the pot. In dry weather, the stream sinks before reaching the pot, and we were fortunate enough to see the pot in flood. We traversed around to the north side, and made camp on the banks of the stream—had supper and a good nights sleep.

On Sunday morning we awoke early, and peering through outside the tent, found that the morning was very dull and misty. We watched the mists rolling across the slopes of Penyghent, and then had breakfast. Feeling much better, we wandered off to view the pot, and found that the stream had slightly decreased in volume.

Collecting our tackle, we decided that the first descent should be made in a narrow rift at the S.E., corner. We secured the ladder to a nearby tree, and used massive knots of our own invention, and prepared to descend. We soon reached the floor of the pot after a tight squeeze into the rift, and then started to prowl around. The fall was still sending a fairly large amount of water down into the pot, with the result that a great pool occupied the bottom of the pothole. Water was also pouring in from a cave opening about ten feet from the floor of the pot in the N.E. corner.

TIME SHIFT
News Chronicle, May 15th 1951
‘Penyghent, Britain’s deepest and most treacherous pothole today claimed the life of 19-year-old John Williams, of Holywell, Flint. He became exhausted in a tunnel 200 feet below ground, and lay down for five hours in the inky blackness, friends tried to cheer him on as chilling water dripped down to soak him. It was all too much for the youth, who was brought out dead 30 hours after he began a holiday exploration of the pothole.
Among the party was Bob Leakey, of Giggleswick who lay by the side of Williams for the last five hours trying to encourage him and waiting for the rescuers from Settle, 10 miles away….’

Climbing carefully, we reached the cave, and Simpson managed to enter the cave, but the eight of water rushing along the cave compelled him to return.

We then re-climbed the ladder, and decided to try and make a descent by the waterfall. While Simpson held me by the rope round my waist, I secured the ladder to an overhanging tree, a few feet to the right of the waterfall. The pitch was slightly longer than our ladder, but we managed to climb down the remaining few feet amidst flying spray.

We found that in returning to moor level, that our arms were aching slightly, but we put this down to inexperience on rope ladder climbing. Time was getting on, so we had dinner and awaited the arrival of Taylor, we hadn’t long to wait. He was all rigged up in a gaudy jacket, doomed to spend the remainder of its life accompanying its owner on potholing exploration. After all the comments (to the jacket) had passed, Taylor and I made a descent, returned to the surface, and set out to find a few nearby potholes.

Around 600 yards west of Hull Pot, we saw a depression in the moorland, in which was the cave entrance to Little Hull Pot. The pot has a total depth of 250 feet, and presents great difficulty to the inexperienced. Returning to Hull Pot, we next visited Hunt Pot. Heading S.E., we made towards the ‘nose’ of Penyghent, and walked over the top of a rise in the moorland. From the summit of the rise, a solitary tree was seen, this marks the surface depression of Hunt or Thund Pot. Hunt Pot Beck enters the depression, and then tumbles into the actual pothole. The pot appears as a narrow slit, some 20 feet long, and at its widest part six feet. On one side the stream enters the pot, making an impressive picture as it trickles through a curtain of moss hanging down the shaft. The pothole has two pitches, the first of 100 feet, and a second of 60 feet.

The total depth of this pothole is about 180 feet.On our way back to Hull Pot, we visited High Hull Pot, some 200 yards east of Hull Pot. After looking around we saw a small stream, and followed it to a point where it disappeared beneath a small limestone outcrop, forming a kin of a wall across a narrow gully. This was the entrance to the 210-foot (deep) pothole. On our visit we found the mass of rock over the entrance had slipped sealing up the cave.

Nearby, we saw two signs of digging to find a fresh entrance. The pot was first descended by members of the Gritstone Club in 1923. On a previous visit to the area, we visited Jackdaw Hole, about 1 mile N.W. of Hull Pot. It appears as a circular pit, some 30 feet in depth, surrounded by trees, descents can be made by rope belayed to a wooden beam embedded in the south side of the pot. Nearby, Penyghent Long Churn was visited, depth 80 feet. Roughly 250 yards away south east of Penyghent Long Churn is Cross Pot, deriving its name from the shape of the opening, cross-shaped with a rock bridge, which is insecure. Shaft is about 80 feet deep.

Editors Note: I had to admit that I had never heard of Cross Pot—however it still exists, it’s marked on the Landrange Series of maps, and is described in ‘Northern Caves’. On a fine hot day on September 5^th 2004, my wife and I set off from New Houses and made our way up to Sell Ghyll Hole.

Through the gate we made our way along the track to Jackdaw Hole, but as we entered the field near Jackdaw, we turned off right besides the wall. This vague path goes uphill, and then down into a valley before beginning to ascend again. At the bottom of the valley is a small outcrop of limestone—or a sink. A hundred yards away at right angle to the path is a noticeable shakehole that contains Cross Pot.

TIME SHIFT
News Chronicle, 18th December 1953
Cave ‘frogman’ Dr Robert Davies, 33 year old from Sheffield, and University lecturer spent 40 minutes alone exploring an unknown 5,000 square feet underground lake. The lake—at Clapham Cave, Yorkshire, is one of the biggest discoveries in recent years. Varying in depth from 5 feet to 10 feet, is potentially dangerous for explorers says Dr Davies and is a continuation of the cave’s Lake Avernus.
Since 1837, potholers have thought that Lake Avernus stretched no further than 120 feet. Dr Davies led an expedition of 18 members of the Cave Diving Group, and Bradford Pothole Club to prove everyone wrong. The party was underground for 10 hours. Wearing his ‘frogman’s’ suit, Dr Davies was towed by a dingy across Avernuss. ‘I climbed through a small hole in the rock, and finally got to the new lake. My swimming stirred up the mud at the bottom of the lake, making the water completely cloudy. Visibility was no more than two feet’.

The hole is a respectable and inviting opening and beckons exploration. The initial belay appears to be an iron bar driven into the ground, followed at the lip of the hole by a spit type hanger giving way to an eighty-foot pitch.

I was unable to determine whether it is rigged for SRT however, as ‘Max’ my dog dragged me nearer to the edge, and prudence forced a retreat—a bolting kit might be useful just in case. Going off the description in ‘Northern Cave’ this hole might yield further possibilities. A dig in the past at the bottom was unsuccessful by all accounts—but who knows what it might yield!

In fact the whole area around Jackdaw Hole has numerous deep shakeholes, which should warrant investigation---right Chris, there’s your inspiration, get your crowbar and go for it!

From our camping ground at Skirwith we cycled along the Hawes Road to Chapel-le-Dale, when we had to walk up a long hill. The Hill Inn, a potholers rendezvous was passed on the right hand side, and we soon reached the crest of a hill. From this point a fine view was appreciated. Looking back towards Ingleton, we looked upon a basin shaped valley, with Twistleton Scar on the right, and Ingleborough at 2,373 rising on the left, away in the distance we could see the Bowland Fells rising up. Continuing our journey, we enjoyed a downhill run to Ribblehead, admiring the view ahead.

Across the valley we could see Ribblehead Viaduct that carried the railway across the valley—the viaduct looked very small amidst the fells rising up in the background. O the right (left?) was Whernside, ahead Blea Moor and Cam Hill. A few minutes later we passed under the railway, and halted at a road junction. This was Ribblehead, a wild and bleak moorland spot, but quiet nice and peaceful, surrounded on all sides by hills and fells. We spent a few moments taking photographs and then continued our journey.

Straight ahead was Hawes, and turning right, we cycled down Ribblesdale, the road leads to Settle. We cycled along the switch-back road for about 3 miles, occasionally we caught a glimpse of Penyghent at 2,273 feet. Just before entering the village of Selside, a cart track led off to the right, this we followed for some 400 yards, where the track turned left towards South House Moor.

Our way was straight ahead, through a gate in the stone wall, which gave access to the open moorland. We pushed our cycles up a well made track passing a disused lime kiln, and a small limestone scar, then we saw a group of trees surrounded by a small wall—this was Alum Pot Plantation.

Leaving our cycles we dashed to the wall, looked over and stood gazing with wonder into the great shaft of Alum Pot. At the opposite side of Alum Pot, Alum Pot Beck plunged into the opening, and far below a huge block of limestone spanned the shaft, this we later discovered was known as ‘The Bridge’. We had heard of a cave, by which with the aid of a 50 foot ladder it was possible to enter the shaft of Alum Pot, approximately 100 foot down, just above ‘The Bridge’. We soon located this cave, which is a few hundred yards from the shaft, and situated near a stone wall. The cave is known as Long Churn Cave, and we decided to penetrate as far as possible, with what little equipment we had at our disposal, which consisted of some overalls and a few candles and lamps—which were none too good. Lighting the lamps, we entered the cave and soon reached a small chamber into which a waterfall plunged with a roar, filling the cave with spray. This is Long Churn Waterfall. Onwards for a short distance, we paddled in the icy water to a point where the passage forked, the stream going away to the left, and on the right a comparatively dry passage, which was our way forward.

Along the left fork we could see daylight, the stream flows along the passage into the open air for a few yards, then plunges into nearby Diccan Cave. Our lamps by this time were useless, and so we lit candles and proceeded along the dry passage, and soon we reached our first obstacle. By the light of the candles we saw the floor of the passage ended with a drop of a few feet into what appeared to be a deep pool of crystal clear water.

It seemed quite a difficult obstacle to us, so our exploration ended at this point, and we returned to daylight once more. A fine view we had of Simons Fell, Alum Pot Plantation, and across the other side of the valley was Penyghent.

On our second visit we passed the obstacle, which had stopped our previous explorations. We entered the cave and avoided the stream

TIME SHIFT
Descent magazine June/July 1994
‘Anyone who has visited Mongo Ghyll Hole, and made the through trip from North Shaft to Shockle Shaft cannot have failed to notice the glutinous black mud at the bottom of Shockle. Members of BCC, in co-operation with CNCC and the owners of Stump Cross Caverns, have arranged to clear up this mess. This was accomplished by club members Peter Heywood, Simon Mitchell and Jack Nadin.
A number of bucketfuls of this gung were removed back into the workings, thus making the exit/entrance slightly more pleasant to negotiate. Burnley CC members, notably Chris Bosomworth and Dave Hall have also been digging in the Ling Ghyll area, north of Horton-in-Ribblesdale. Here, a short ox bowed ‘through cave’ for the very slim caver was excavated. This is expected to be surveyed in the near future, further details as and when they are available’
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Descent magazine June/July 1994
Will past members of Burnley CC please note that the club plans to celebrate its 45th anniversary in late 1995 with mammoth reunion. Details have yet to be finalised, but further information can be obtained from the club secretary, Peter Wilson on 01282-695346, or by writing to 140 Halifax Road, Nelson, Lancashire.

this time by making use of an oxbow. Then we reached Double Shuffle, as it is called, and this time it didn’t seem quite as difficult. We grasped a knob of rock on the left, and lowering ourselves slowly found a foothold a few inches above the water. From the holds it was easy to swing into the continuation of the cave passage. Fortunately we escaped mishap, and proceeded cautiously along the passage. Next came Plank Pool, a deep pool bridged by a narrow plank hanging from the roof where large stalactites helped us to keep our balance. Nearby is an opening, from which came a roaring sound. This is a very low creep which connects with Diccan Cave. Continuing along the cave we soon reached the next obstacle, known as the Letter Box, a slit in the limestone some 12 feet deep, squeezing through with little more than a few nasty words, we found ourselves in a large chamber, known as St Paul’s. At one side a short passage led to Pool Pitch, a pitch of 10 feet overhanging a pool.

Not feeling like a bath so early in the day, we retraced our steps back to the top of the Letter Box. Traversing along the left side of the slit, we found a small passage, and found it was a very tight squeeze, ending in a climb of ten feet or so to the cave floor. Walking on a few yards we saw the bottom of Pool Pitch. The alternative route was much better than the prospects of a cold bath. A few more yards, and we stood at the head of the Long Churn Chimney, or Dolly Tubs Pitch, as it is often called. It appeared as a large rift, and daylight could be seen below. That was the end of our second visit, and returning to the surface, changed (into?) our slightly damp clothes, and returned to camp.

A few weeks later, in which time we had made 50 feet of ladder, and accumulated a few lengths of rope, and also bottomed Hull Pot, we again turned our attention to Long Churn Cave. The party consisted of Simpson, Taylor and myself. We reached Long Churn Chimney without incident, and plotted and planned which was the most suitable belay for the ladder.

Instead of using the direct line of descent down the Tubs, we moved along the right hand side of the rift, and belayed our ladders to masses of stalagmites and boulders.

I climbed down the ladder, and reached a narrow cleft, much to my surprise, I was only two thirds of the way down. Simpson and Taylor joined me, and we then pushed the ladder, which was stuck in the cleft over a projecting wall, and descended while the other two steadied the ladder. I found the ladder too short to reach the bottom of the pitch, but swinging on the ladder I secured a hand hold on the rock face and climbed down.

I was joined by Simpson and Taylor, and we walked towards the daylight ahead to where the cave entered Alum Pot Shaft. Looking up we could see the tress overhanging the pothole 100 feet above, and across the shaft, Alum Pot Beck falling 200 feet in an unbroken fall on to the rocks far below. About thirty feet below, the Bridge was seen. At some bygone day, this mass of limestone, estimated to weigh 70 tons slipped from the east side of the shaft and now lies at a steep angle spanning the shaft from east to west.

We tried to estimate how much more rope and ladder we would need to reach the bottom, and Simpson remarked ‘We will reach the bottom next time, or bust’. Next time we did reach the bottom.

Once again we travelled from Bury to Skirwith, with Alum Pot as our objective, this time with a second rope ladder of 40 feet, also 60 feet of rope. Arriving earlier than expected, we cycled round Ribblehead to Alum Pot, got a ladder fixed down the chimney, and got the extra tackle to the bottom of the pitch ready for the next day. Returning to Skirwith, Simpson and I found Taylor had arrived, and after a debate on the next days activities, he departed to the Y.H.A. at Ingleton, and Simpson and I bedded down for the night. Next morning we awoke early and found the day bright and sunny, ideal weather for the job in hand. Just as we were having breakfast, Taylor arrived and called us fancy names for not being up earlier. However, we persuaded him to cycle over to Moorgarth Hall, and ask Mr Reg Hainsworth to loan us one of his ladders (we’d previously been promised the use of his ladders) By the time Taylor returned with a 60-foot ladder on his cycle, Simpson and I were ready, and away we went. Travelling via Ribblehead to Alum Pot. That morning Taylor had the biggest load, and by the time we reached the pothole, he looked pretty warm. We carried the tackle to Long Churn Cave, and lounged in the sun awhile admiring the panoramic view. Across the valley Penyghent was bathed in sunshine, and to the south were Fountains Fell and the Settle Hills. To the north we could see the slopes of Wherneside and Cam fell and the Ribblehead Ghylls, However, we had a job in hand, and so we changed into our muddy overalls, adjusted our lamps, and carrying the remaining tackle entered the cave. We soon reached the chimney, but had a little trouble in the alternative route with the bulky ladder.

Lamps wouldn’t be needed after the bottom of the pitch, so we packed them away. Then we commenced further exploration. We secured a 30-foot rope to a large boulder, and after one man had climbed, lowered the tackle, then I joined him. During the climb we were under a steady trickle of water falling from high above. A noticeable fact was that a rainbow could be seen near the foot of the wet pitch, caused by the sun shining down the shaft. Carrying the remaining tackle, we traversed with care along the narrow ledge on the west side of the shaft until the Bridge was reached, over which we had to cross. Simpson carefully climbed down, I followed, Taylor lowered the remainder of tackle, and then he too crossed the Bridge and joined us.

We were then in a kind of narrow rocky trench, here we rested for a few moments. Simpson and I traversed a very narrow ledge until we were standing behind the falling water of Alum Pot Beck. It was a great sight, but the traverse is highly dangerous. We then returned to Taylor, and prepared for the next part of the decent, and a 60-foot pitch had next to be negotiated. We found iron bars, left by some potholers and wedged them into the rocks, and belayed the 60-foot ladder to them, and lowered it over the edge. Simpson then descended, but we were unable to see his progress, however he signalled for us to lower the last ladder, so we knew he was safe. The ladder safely lowered, he signalled for the next man to descend. I started to descend, and found the ladder climb the best in the pothole.

For the first few feet, the ladder was lying close to the rock, and then finished in a fine overhang. I looked down while descending, and could see Simpson standing below looking very small compared to the vastness of his surroundings. Rushing to the foot of the pitch, I signally to Taylor to descend, and a few minutes later he joined us—we prepared for the next part of the pothole. We followed the stream down, and soon needed our last 30 foot ladder on a 30 foot wet pitch.

Belaying it to a large rock, we managed to keep it clear of the stream, and climbed down. The passage was getting darker, and so we lit our lamps and followed the stream down. Two small waterfalls had to be negotiated—these were about 10 feet deep. We soon passed these by chimneying down, feet pressed against the right hand wall, back against the left. We were then in the final chamber, about 300 feet below the moor level. Straight ahead water was pouring in from somewhere (Diccan Pot) high up in the roof and joining Alum Pot Beck on the floor of the chamber, then uniting (and) then flowing into a black circling pool, known as the sump.

This is the lowest accessible point in the pothole. Experiments have been made, and it is known that the water in the sump reappears at Footnaws Hole over a mile away. Then after passing under the bed of the River Ribble appears at Turn Dub, and then flows back into the Ribble. After spending a few minutes in the chamber, we returned to the moor surface, and then well pleased with the day’s work returned to Skirwith.

Later the same year, Simpson, Taylor and I revisited Upper Long Churn and went through with Mr Reg Hainsworth of Moorgarth, who was taking a party through the cave. On the fall above the Handbasin, Mr Hainsworth climbed up neatly, and assisted the party one by one by means of a rope round their waist. One amusing incident was, when one chap slipped and was immersed in the pool below. Reg politely told him to swim out, which he did and accomplished the climb successfully. All safely through the cave, we returned to Long Churn Cave, and lying in the sun had a friendly chat with Mr Hainsworth, who gave us good hints and information.

Then, Simpson and I decided to poke our noses in Diccan Cave, only a few yards east of Long Churn. Taylor did not accompany us, as he had lost interest in potholing for a few minutes. The entrance is in a shallow depression, beneath a small scar, the stream flows from Long Churn Cave, in the open for a few yards, and then rushes into the entrance of Diccan Cave. We know that exploration of Diccan Cave is impossible owing to lack of equipment and the weight of water entering the cave, but we hoped to get to the head of the first pitch of 120 feet.

Entering the cave, Simpson managed to chimney along round a bend in the cave passage, and with great care we managed to reach the head of the pitch. I didn’t like the look of the situation, so I amused myself by traversing the creep into Long Churn.

The stream follows Diccan Cave for a little way, then plunges down the 120 foot pitch of Diccan Pot, followed by further pitches of 30, 25, 20 and 15 feet entering the roof of Alum Pot Chamber falls 100 feet to the floor of the chamber uniting with Alum Pot Beck and flows into the sump. It was not until 1932 that the descent of Diccan Cave was achieved.

A party of Ingleton potholers led by Mr Reg Hainsworth constructed an aqueduct and turned the stream along Long Churn Cave, thus they successfully made the descent, and reached the main chamber. Simpson and I also managed to climb Long Churn waterfall, and traverse upstream to join the main Upper Long Churn passage.

While in the area, we visited Washfold Cave and Borrins Moor Cave. To visit Washfold, we walked through a gap in the wall near Long Churn Cave and walked across the fell in a northerly direction. Eventually, after crossing a number of clints, we saw a broken down sheepfold, and soon found the cave in a slight depression. Having only candles, we lit them and entered the cave, and found the passage very narrow, in parts barely 15 inches wide. We penetrated only a few yards, and then returned.

The cave is very difficult, and should only be attempted by adequately equipped clubs with manpower to haul the tackle. It descends to a depth of 400 feet and is part of the Alum Pot cave system. On the way back to Long Churn Cave we often saw deep clefts in the limestone clints, below which could be seen running water. The next cave entrance we visited was Borrins Moor Cave, or Simon’s Cave, also part of the Alum Pot cave system. The cave was rather difficult to find, but it lies up the fell side from Long Churn.

We eventually found it. From the far entrance to Upper Long Churn we headed south west towards the highest point of Simons Fell. After about 300 yards of bog slogging we found the cave entrance in a small, valley. It will be noticed on the O.S. map, Alum Pot is at a height of 1,125 feet above sea level, and Turn Dub 825 feet, thus the water sinking into the sump only drops 5 feet during its underground flow to the River Ribble.

This cave was visited by Simpson, Taylor and Garvey in August 1940.

Leaving our usual headquarters at Skirwith, we cycled to Ribblehead, and after a brief halt at this point, we proceeded along the Hawes road for about half a mile until we reached a large stone house—Gearstones. Just besides the house, we followed a track leading off on the right handside of the road. The rough track changed into a grassy lane as we walked along we soon reached Thorns Ghyll. Leaving our cycles against the wall, we followed the ghyll upstream, through a picturesque ravine where the stream had worn fantastic shapes in the soft limestone. Following the stream, Gale Beck, we reached a point where the stream forked. To the left seemed to be the major stream, so we followed it and it led us to the entrance of Holme Ghyll Cave.

We changed into our caving togs, we lit lamps, stuffed pockets with candles, and entered the cave. Once inside we had to walk in the stream, and we also saw the remains of an old iron gate, protection for the one time show cave. We soon heard the sound of rushing water, and a few yards ahead the passage forked, the left for bringing down most of the water. We chose the right hand fork, and shivering with cold we splashed along with the water lapping round our knees. We often paused to admire the formations and the hundreds of stalactites hanging from the roof, mostly pure white in colour. Gradually, as we walked, the water got shallower, and we found the floor of the passage was rising until there was hardly any sign of the water.

Unexpectedly the roof came down low, and we had to crawl on our hands and knees, then wriggle on our stomachs along a low bedding plane, fortunately, there was no water at this point. Rounding a bend we found further penetration was unnecessary, and as our lamps were none too good, and candle supplies running low, we returned to the outside world, blinded by the blazing sun.

We lay in the hot sun by the cave for some time, then retraced our steps downstream passing through picturesque ravines and under the footbridge, besides which we had left our cycles. After passing under the bridge, the stream plunged into a large pool situated in a second deep ravine.

We visited a cave high up above the stream on the left bank, believed to be Thorns Ghyll Cave. As we had very little lighting left, we could only penetrate a short distance. The water in the cave was rather deep, so we traversed along by chimneying often 25 feet above the water. Slimy mud covering the rock made it difficult, and having poor lighting we gave up.

To visit this pothole, Simpson and I cycled to Horton-in-Ribblesdale and travelled along the old packhorse road, which leaves the main road near the Crown Hotel. We followed the track for about 2 miles, then saw Sell Ghyll barn on the left side of the track, we saw Sell Ghyll Hole (dry entrance). Looking down the pot, the first pitch is about 20 feet or so, and below a great accumulation of old tins and rubbish. Crossing to the right hand side of the road, we saw Sell Ghyll beck plunging into a cave opening, this was Sell Ghyll Hole (stream entrance) The cave is in a small ravine, some 10 feet deep, and we climbed, or rather slithered down, as the rocks were rather slippery. Lighting candles, we followed the stream underground along its arduous course. The floor of the passage was occupied by the stream, so we chimneyed along. In the distance we could hear a roaring sound, and without warning the passage turned sharp left. Simpson hesitated, and called me to him, and I could see by the candle light the stream plunged into an underground pothole.

Unless well equipped and ideal conditions, exploration ceases at this point owing mainly to the weight of the water entering the pot. A complete descent of Sell ghyll has been made by Simpson and other members of the B.C.P.C, entering by the dry entrance in 1941. It contains pitches of 20, 60 and 50 feet respectively, and is one of the finest potholes in Ribblesdale.

Visited and explored by members of the B.C.P.C. and the B.S.A

Rift Pot lies on the operate side of Ingleborough to Mere Ghyll Hole and is around 320 feet deep. Simpson and Taylor had been engaged in exploring Rift Pot for two or three weekends, and had reached the bottom of the hole. During the past weekend they had been engaged in bringing the equipment to the surface. It was during this period that I visited the hole. Being on leave, the urge to visit Craven, and a little encouragement from Simpson, made me get out my old cycle. We left Bury, and it was like old times travelling up to Skirwith, the party consisted of R. Simpson, W. Taylor, T. Holt and I. We reached Skirwith and dumped all the unnecessary tackle, then returned through Ingleton, and back to Clapham. Crossing the bridge over Clapham Beck, we turned sharp left, and proceeded to walk up a narrow lane passing under two long arches. After riding and pushing our cycles up Long Lane for some 2 miles, gradually gaining height, we stopped to admire the entrance to Clapham Cave.

Situated in a small valley to our left, and to the right of Clapham Cave, we could see Trow Ghyll. Eventually, we passed through a gate and on to the open moorland. We took the equipment needed, lamps etc., and leaving our cycles, we walked in a northerly direction across Clapham Bottoms. We crossed part of that stretch of moorland below Ingleton known as the Allotments, and soon reached Rift Pot.

The pothole appears in an insignificant rift, with no fence or walls around it. We decided not to descend immediately, but waited until later in the evening, so Simpson led the way to various potholes nearby.

We visited the entrances to Jockey Hole, Long Kin East, Juniper Gulf, and Marble Pot, also crawled into one or two shakeholes.

It was getting dark when we returned to Rift Pot, and as it was my first visit, I went down first. It was a lovely ladder climb of 112 feet, and on reaching the bottom awaited the others to join me. All safely down, we lit our headlamps and scrambled up a boulder strewn slope, some 20 to 30 feet, and down the other side, a short scramble and we reached the ledge of a terrific shaft, depth 200 feet.

Straight across the shaft we could see dimly a cave entrance, this is Long Kin East. Instead of going down the main shaft, our way led off through a hole in the floor, after lowering ourselves through the hole, we reached a ledge, which was more or less a rock wedged between two rock walls. Simpson then led the way by climbing down a flaky rock face above a slope. One by one we followed, and I must say it was tricky as the rock walls are of a very loose nature. Holt and I stayed at the head of the sloe, and Taylor and Simpson climbed carefully down the scree and reached a point lower down in the pot, where they fastened the ladders to a rope, for Holt and I to haul up. It was nearly morning when we left Rift Pot to return to Skirwith….Continued in logbook.

Southern English in origin, and only rarely used today in its proper context as in ‘Good avens above mate’

Common in all caving regions especially in public bars and houses, as in ‘It must be his round, he’s just bolted’. Singular ‘to bolt’ Origin: Old English (run away—retreat—to scarper—depart suddenly)

One who’s not right in the head, cavers are often certified, for instance Pete Chattle is a certified caver in BCC.

A guzunder, or chamber pot, an ancient form of indoor toilet minus flush mode.

Square shaped cavity above a fire. It’s possible to chimney up here, but not recommended especially in winter months.

To criticise in a fair or unfair manner, as in ‘I’m going to have a dig at him’

Scottish in origin, used to test the millisecond reaction time from dropping a coin of the realm to catching it before it reaches the floor. Still practiced in Scotland, and the more remote parts of Yorkshire.

Still in common usages, as a word of advise, especially during pub brawls and after heavy drinking sessions at annual dinners. A swimming bird, especially the domesticated form such as mallard.

Irish origin and still in common use, especially in County Clare, as in ‘It’s his round, fissure fissure’

Now falling into disuse. Origin: Post war use, a tear in ladies Nylon stockings

Someone who lends you a tenner when skint, is said to have been a lifeline (or a fool!)

A coffin, see also undersuit

The place where pots and pans go under the kitchen sink, see also that entry, also referred to as a ‘pot oil’.

Usually occurs after the annual dinner, another word for vomiting. In Yorkshire this is referred to as ‘Gerrit up’ after you’ve ‘Gorrit down’ a reference to quantities of beer consumed.

A stainless steel object usually kept in the kitchen

The exit point of the water in a stainless steel object usually found in the kitchen

To repulse, as in ‘sling your hook’

That thing under car engine that holds the oil. ‘A casing holding lubricating oil in an internal combustion engine’

Yorkshire in origin, usually heard after a long drinking session, as in ‘Aye, aye, looks like he might be going for his swallet’

Scottish in origin, a person who is reluctant to pay his round is said to be ‘tight’. Also another word for drunk.

What you wear under your oversuit, see also that entry.

What you get when you’ve wrongly programmed the washing machine.

Still common in Yorkshire where dry-cleaning has yet to evolve

A TRIBUTE TO ROY SWINDLEHURST

Many were saddened to hear of the death of Roy Swindlehurst in January 2003. I had meet Roy only on a few occasions—such as the annual dinners, and one time when I went his house on Coal Clough Lane Burnley to ask if he could do a members profile on himself for the forthcoming ‘Review 1994’. None was forthcoming, and so I just thought perhaps he just didn’t have the time, or was otherwise occupied. However, his wife Irene recently gave some of Roy’s old newspaper cuttings to the club—and inside on some bits of scrap paper I noticed that Roy had indeed put pen to paper, this is what he wrote:-

‘I have been asked by Jack Nadin to write a profile for the newsletter or forthcoming journal. I first got interested in caving through cycling. A small group of friends formed a cycling club in Padiham, we used to cycle locally at nights, and up the Dales most weekends, (and) maybe to Blackpool on Tuesdays. We once met after the pictures on a Saturday night (the flea pit, Padiham Grand) and cycled through the Mersey Tunnel to New Brighton, waited for the first café to open, and cycled home again. One never to be forgotten Sunday, we were having a brew in the yard at the back of the Craven Heifer (at) Stainforth, when I saw Peter Lambert (who later joined BCC) and asked him where he was going. He said Alum Pot, I asked ‘What’s Alum Pot?’

Right from the start I was curious about this hole in the ground, so I talked the cycling club into joining him. When we got there I was fascinated by this huge steaming hole. I expected just a small round muddy one I think. Peter took us over to Long Churns, and we went down in cycling shorts and holding a bike lamp in one hand.

The Dolly Tubs was laddered with a huge rope ladder about three times the size we eventually came to use.

I said ‘I’m going down’ and I’ll never forget walking out into that huge shaft.

I shouted down to the men who were on the ledge leading to the ‘Bridge’ ‘Is it all right if I come down?’. You’ve come so far, you might as well’ one said. So I went down the next small rope pitch. The party turned out to be a scout group in scout hats as well, no helmets, but that didn’t strike me as odd at the time, as I’d never seen caves before. Three or four of us in the cycle club got very keen on caving, and got hold of Thornber’s ‘Pennine Undergound’. We did most of the caves that didn’t require tackle, in the Ribblehead area mostly. We then looked round for the nearest caving club, and joined Craven Potholing Club, (who) were then at Skipton. I used to either cycle to Skipton to catch the coach, or to the cave, which ever was nearest, also to the dig at Malham.

Sometimes I spent the night at Arnold waterfalls at Clirton (?) We ended up with a petrol driven winch pulling a large iron bucket full of glacial debris out of a shaft around 75 feet deep. Afterwards we went and swam in Malham Tarn, even in winter to get rid of the mud. I had been caving with CPC about three years, when my mother, reading the Burnley Express said they were trying to form a caving club in Burnley, so I went down to the first meeting. This was when I met Trevor Rambadt, and was introduced to the other founder members. That was the start of a long and happy friendship’.

Unfortunately, Roy’s notes finished here—but I am sure he had the intention of writing more. Nevertheless, Roy has left us with some fascinating memories of his early caving days. His notes, and his collections of newspaper cuttings, by courtesy of his wife Irene, will now be known as ‘The Roy Swindlehirst Collection’ in BCCs library.

Roy Swindlehurst sadly died at the age of 71 after a short illness in Burnley and Pendle Hospice on January 27^th 2003.

Eli Simpson was named after his grandfather, Eli Simpson who was a cloth manufacturer employing 73 men and boys, and 57 women, at Ossett, Yorkshire, and the son of John William Simpson and Elizabeth. He was born at Brook Street, Ossett on 16^th September 1884, when his father too was described as being a manufacturer. Eli was an accomplished athlete and footballer and was educated at Leeds Modern School, and in fact used to play for the Beeston Hill Church Association Football Club, and later for a club at Morley. He became interested in caves, or so it was said, when he and his girlfriend were on a day trip to Ingleton. While walking up Chapel-le-Dale and onto Ingleton Common he crawled into a cave. As a result he ruined his suit, lost the affection of his girlfriend but gained a love of speleology.

The only club around in Yorkshire at this time involved in cave exploration was the Yorkshire Rambler’s Club—Eli tried to join, and it was recorded in their minutes of 27^th October 1903 that ‘He was insufficiently qualified for membership’. So, he formed his own club in 1905 at the age of 21, to be known as the Yorkshire Speleological Association, and commenced his self-appointed task of recording caves through photographs, surveys and words.

Eli Simpson died on 1^st. February 1962, and was possibly the man who had the greatest impact on British caving in the first half of the twentieth century—his policies are even now debated. His attitude to the other cavers, who saw caving as a sport, rather than a science, almost caused full scale rebellion during Simpson’s early post war years when he was the Founder member and Recorder of the British Speleological Association based at Settle, and association begun in July 1935.

This is very evidently shown in his entry as the Recorder in the minutes of the association taken on 23^rd September 1950—just four years to the month after the discovery of Lancaster Hole, recorded as follows:-.

‘On the discovery of this hole (Lancaster Hole) in September 1946, it was realised that this series of caverns could be utilised in a manner which could be of extreme importance to the scientific side of British Speleology. They are situated right outside the beaten track of Yorkshire cave areas, and in consequence your Council decided to take the same, along with Cow Pot on a lease and close against unauthorised entry not only in an endeavour to preserve its many unique natural features, but also to establish an underground scientific laboratory.

The hole was closed with a steel lid, and though transport was a difficult problem, owing to petrol rationing, work went steadily ahead survey and photography being the main items, also some recording instruments were installed. We had three applications from clubs for permission to visit the hole, the Yorkshire Ramblers, the Gritstone Club and the Northern Pennine Club (after they had trespassed via Cow Pot) but unfortunately we were not at the time in the position to grant the privilege. One of the reasons was we desired to make a thorough examination of the floors of the cavern. It must be realised that all our big Yorkshire caverns, such as Stump Cross, Gaping Ghyll etc., had all their floors trampled out of recognition before anyone thought of making a thorough examination of the same.

Undoubtedly much valuable scientific data was lost. We desired to make a thorough, even though necessarily slow examination of the floors of Lancaster Hole, before valuable data was obliterated. We only permitted small working parties of our own members to enter, and even then tracer tapes were laid and strict instructions were given that these routes should be adhered to.

Between 1947 and the end of 1949, clubs made unauthorised entry into Lancaster Hall via Cow Pot, i.e., the Northern Pennine Club, the Craven Pothole Club, and the Yorkshire Ramblers Club. This was trespass, and the Yorkshire Ramblers Club reports says they moved mounds of boulders (which incidentally our members had placed to close the hole) One would have thought it much nicer and far more profitable if they had expended their labours in some other field—even a second Lancaster Hole. Members of the Red Rose Club entered through a steel lid during this period, this entry became known and they were kept down for a considerably longer period than they desired.

They were a rather sorry lot of hooligans that came to the surface when released. These events coupled with the difficulty of transportation compelled us to reluctantly withdraw the delicate recording instruments for the time being.

We had hardly commenced the year 1950, when the steel lid was forced and damaged and parts scattered over the moor. A second lid was obtained with difficulty owing to short supply and placed with a special locking device in position, within 14 days this was blown out. Your Council then decided to forego investigations for the time being and seal the hole with concrete. We have placed three concrete seals over the hole to date. Two of which have been forced. That such Hooligans should prevail among so called leading clubs in the north, is regrettable, and does not improve the standing of British Speleology. Also, these people are not only impeding definitive scientific investigation, but it is enlightening to note that members of some clubs who have trespassed have come forward fully agreeing with our policy of keeping strict control of the cavern. Some have even preferred donations towards the expense of safeguarding the same.

Much unauthorised digging has been taking place in the area by various clubs, with one view only, namely of finding a secret way into Lancaster Hole. It seems a very foolish policy. Members of the Northern Pennine Club have tried with explosives at Bull Pot of the Witches, but to no avail, now they are busy in the upper section of Easeghyll. All we can say is we thank them for their assistance, which may prove of value to us in our final analysis of the hydrology of the area.

Your Council in view of past happenings are determined to control access to the caverns, and proceed with their legitimate scientific research. This research is to the benefit of all potholers, and it should not be necessary to request that they all respect our objects. Surely during the last ten years, our members have given them enough now underground playground, amounting to some six or seven miles in Yorkshire alone—and there are far more possibilities at Mossdale, than at Lancaster—why do they not vent their surplus energies there?

Finally, no person, whether a member of the association or not has any right on the moorland in which Cow Pot and Lancaster Hole is situated, without a written consent issued by the Hon. Secretary, or Hon. Recorder of the Association.

(signed) E. Simpson, Hon. Recorder.

It was this sort of attitude by Eli Simpson, which prior to this in 1946 and 47 caused many resignations from the society, other members were expelled by Simpson, some of whom went on to form their own organisations—including the Northern Pennine Club, the Northern Speleology Group, Red Rose Cave and Pothole Club, and in November 1950, directly or indirectly our own Burnley Caving Club. Former scientists with the BSA formed the Cave Research Group of Great Britain. Eli Simpson continued to run the BSA, which in spite of its name never gained the support or status it enjoyed in the pre-war years. However, on his death in February 1962, and during his 78 years of his life ‘Cymmie’ as he was known amassed the finest Speleological archives and library that Britain had ever seen. In 1973 the BSA was disbanded, merged with the Cave Research Group of Great Britain to become the British Cave Research Association. Whatever opinions people have today of Eli Simpson, there can be no doubt, that he was indeed a remarkable man!

A more detailed account of the life of Eli Simpson can be found in Cave and Karst Science, Volume 28, Number 3, December 2001.

THE LURE OF THE CAVE
By Jack Nadin

Now it was my turn to enter the cave
A dark black hole only for the brave
The darkness beckoned, and called us on
Into the blackness we ventured, where the sun never shone

Forward we went keen to explore
In the stream way with its dark and slippery floor
Then the roof got higher giving us room to move
The stream got wilder, as it carved out its groove

Then came a chamber, high and wide as can be
What wonders before us, for all to see
Stalactites and stalagmites adorned its great wall
The stream begins its mighty fall

Beautiful formations we were now charmed to view
And above us on high a million droplets of dew
Fantastic formations they were, all pristine and white
Reflecting their magnificence in our dim light

Well worth the effort these beauties to see
And a thousand straw stalactites added to the glee
Hanging precariously taking a millennium to form
These exquisite formations the chamber did adorn

Forward now, for we near the end
One more tight corner, then an awkward bend
Daylight is glimpsed the end is in sight
Into the sunlight, out of the blackness like night

One more caving challenge we have now overcome
We exited, laid on the grass, then bathed in the sun
We lay on the grass we were exhausted, muddy and wet
Then we all agreed that was possibly the best cave yet!

THE RULES OF CAVING
By Jack Nadin

There are certain rules in caving, we need to follow if to survive
Don’t go diving a duck, if it’s a sump, or you won’t come out alive
Don’t free climb either that slippery slope, if it’s well above your head
Or jump that deep chasm, if you do, you’ll also come out dead.

Treat the cave with respect and keep well away from the pitch head,
A slip or a tumble here and you’ll also end up dead
Don’t do as sheep do and jump into deep voids on the outcrop
It might be fun on the way down, but you aren’t as hard as the rock

‘I don’t need a lifeline’ it’s been heard lots of times, but think twice
A splattered and broken caver to pick up off the floor isn’t very nice
Better to use a lifeline as it says in the rules, and the code
Because if you don’t, you’ll end up dead and very broad

Don’t be stupid and try to abseil at silly speeds in excess
If you do, a shroud and a coffin may be your next dress
‘What goes down must come up’ is our saying
Better to be safe and sound, than in the ground forever laying!

OLD MAPS

Those of you on the Internet, might know of the Old Maps UK site, where the first O.S. Maps of the late 1840s, early 1850s can be seen — I have already mentioned the caves around the Turbary Road, Kingsdale that show up on these—so with nothing to do one day, I began looking at other caving areas.

Jackdaw Hole shows up near Sell Ghyll Holes, and Sell Ghyll Barns, one of which is now a ruin is shown, Sell Ghyll Hole itself is not shown, although Sell Ghyll Beck can be seen to end abruptly. Hull Pot and Hunt Pot a little to the east also show up, as does Alum Pot, and numerous ‘potholes’ around it, whereas on Leck Fell only ‘Holes’ and ‘Chasms’ are marked.

It might repay to study the caving areas we know today, and compare these with the areas marked on these old maps—perhaps they might reveal some old and lost caverns? ‘Sinks’ and ‘Rises’ as well as ‘Shakeholes’ are marked on these remarkably accurate maps—you never know!

Short Drop/Gavel Pot, or hole to hole caving.

Saturday 21^st August 2004

Present: -Peter Wilson (Will), Garth (Kevin Nuttall) Chris Bosomworth, Jack Nadin, Nick Evans (Lancashire Evening Telegraph) Kevin Catlow (Jack’s nieces husband—or his nephew-in-law, if there is such a thing?)

Torrential rains a few days before this trip actually washed away a village in Cornwall and did tremendous damage in Scotland—not exactly great caving weather!. Emails filled the air as the trip was postponed, then it was back on, as it was decided with typical Burnley Caving Club mentality, to ‘go and have a look anyway’. As it happened the day turned out warm and sunny, see symbol, and with pleasant and extensive views over to Morecambe Bay from Leck Fell. The trip was enjoyable enough, at least after having passed the entrance crawls, and soon we were all into some fine active stream passages—relatively quiet considering all the rain of the past few days.

A number of cascades brought us to the lip of the first pitch, where Will tried out twenty way to hang a ladder, but soon all were down—the last one, me, dropped the ladder and abseiled the pitch. The next twenty minutes was spent trying to ‘spot the daylight’ which should have been coming in from Gavel Pot, and we traipsed gleefully and joyfully up and down streamway, to find our illusive supposed exit. A way was found, albeit via a hairy climb up, and a ladder was rigged and dropped.

It was however on a very loose slope topped by a difficult climb out, over moss-covered boulders over a hole—too dangerous for first timers. Will decided it would be better to take the group back the way they had come in. The pitch in Short Drop was of course, now without a ladder—but with some ariel acrobatics and lasso tactics that Buffalo Bill would have been proud of, a rope was thrown over the bar at the top of the pitch, and a ladder pulled up. A pleasant enough trip, where Garth found that water and his pipe lighter don’t mix, and Chris made a good climbing frame for the tricky exit—which is far easier going in than coming out!

Kevin and Nick were surprisingly quiet with heavy eyelids on the way back, perhaps a little too hard a cave for a first trip, but nevertheless they said they enjoyed it.

Nick Evans from the Lancashire Evening Telegraph promised us a feature in the newspaper—but we didn’t get one! Is he trying to tell us something?

You’ve got a hangover
You’ve got a hangover, and you feel sick
You feel sick, and you’ve a got hangover
You’ll be going out tonight, and you want to save your strength.
You went out the night before, and you have no strength
Your too fat to get through the entrance series
Your too thin, and might get hypothermia
You forgot to charge your battery
You forgot to feed the budgie
You’ve done that cave before!

It’s somewhere to go when its raining
You want to try out your solar powered caving lamp
You’ve fell out with the wife
You’ve fell out with all your mates
You’re a masochist
You’re not right in the head
You’re in a state of bewilderment
It’s Sunday, you’ve now’t else to do
It’s work tomorrow and you want to be in a really ratty mood
The baths not working

In 1953, the book ‘British Caving, an introduction’ was published, being edited by C.H.D. Cullingford, in a response to this fast developing pastime following the Second World War. Today we enjoy warm comfortable clothing while out caving, and modern techniques for descending and ascending caves—not so back then. Here is some of the advice given in the book to prospective cavers regarding clothing and rigging pitches, way back then.

PERSONAL EQUIPMENT

CLOTHING, FUNDAMENTALLY the purpose of clothing is, by keeping the wearer warm, to conserve energy; but the amount of clothing required depends upon the constitution of the individual, because cold and damp affect some more quickly than others. The amount and type of clothing may also depend upon the nature of the cave and the object of the expedition. While little or no special clothing is required for either sex, undergarments should preferably be of wool and, even if old, should be strong enough to stand up to hard usage, and once put on should stay in place without repeated adjustment. Ladies’ vests with ribbon shoulder-straps are not suitable, and short jumpers ruck up and leave the midriff bare and cold;

So, if there is to be much waiting on the expedition while pitches are rigged, photographs are taken, or surveying is done, the following garments are suggested as a minimum for either sex; ankle length under-pants, half-sleeved vest, bathing trunks or costume, woollen shirt, a pair of shorts or trousers, a long-sleeved and high necked sweater, waterproof or semi-waterproof golfing jacket or smock, and the whole covered by one-piece overalls.

The last item is expensive, but for anyone contemplating many caving trips it is well worth the money, because there is nothing to ruck up should it be necessary to climb down or crawl out of a narrow place feet first, and it protects the inner layers from snags and the worst of the mud, and it is most comfortable to wear.

For a caving trip involving little or no crawling and no waiting about, but some wading up to the knees, the woollen under-pants and overalls may be dispensed with and shorts worn. However, if there is some dry crawling, overalls should be put on, with the legs rolled up during paddling.

Those who are sampling caving for the first time and do not have all the clothing mentioned should ask elderly relatives for cast-off woollen underwear. As outer garments an old jacket and pair of trousers will serve; and a discarded raincoat, if obtainable, should be worn, with the skirt cut off about 3 inches above the knees.

LIGHTS

There are many types, both good and bad. The first requirements are that those selected should be of robust construction, give a good light for some hours, be more or less waterproof, not too heavy or bulky; and they must leave both hands free. Electric lamps have the advantage of working equally well under falling water or when completely immersed, and with a parabolic reflector can be focused to a long-distance beam if desired. For general use the light should be fixed on to the helmet and be connected to the battery by a stout rubber-covered flex, which should be so securely gripped at each end that the wires cannot be pulled off the terminals should they be caught up on some projection.

If dry batteries become wet they are liable to fall to pieces; so, if these are used, they should be in a container. Batteries should not be smaller than the two-cell cycle-lamp type, which, with a 2^.5 volt 0^.3 amp. Bulb, give continuous good light for about 4 hours; a three-cell battery, having cells of the same size as the cycle battery, with a 3^.5 volt 0^.3 amp. Bulb will give a better light for the same period. Accumulators of the nickel iron type, although initially expensive, are cheaper if one is caving often, for they can be recharged when necessary and are almost indestructible; but they must be of the un-spillable type, because the liquid inside is caustic and can cause severe damage to skin and clothing.

These are available in capacities ranging from 3 to 15 amp-hour, giving a continuous light with a 0^.3 amp. Bulb from 9 to 45 hours respectively.

Many cavers prefer acetylene lamps, which are reasonable in cost and are satisfactory in many caves, but are useless in very wet caves, particularly under falling water; and care must be taken on pitches not to burn lifelines, especially if they are of nylon. The ideal acetylene lamp is the cap type, which hooks on to the helmet, gives a good diffused light, has no tubing to catch on projections, and, having a naked flame, can be used to detect the presence of carbon dioxide-particularly useful when exploring old mines-and to warm the hands during periods of waiting. These lamps give about 21- hours of light on one filling with carbide. All cavers, whatever their type of lamp, must carry the relevant spares; bulbs and extra batteries for electric, carbide in watertight tins and prickers and jets for acetylene. `Dead’ batteries should be brought out of the cave and spent carbide should be well buried: both these are unsightly if left lying about, can pollute water, and may be harmful to cave fauna. In special circumstances, such as a study of a large chamber or high aven, more light might be necessary. Pressurised paraffin lamps, or a car headlamp together with a suitable battery, are useful but are heavy; magnesium ribbon or flares, in spite of their short life and smoke, might be adequate substitutes.

All should carry candles and matches ; the latter should be in waterproof containers together with a striking board. Two or three small containers are better than one large one: after the box has been used a few times the matches become damp and are useless, and even if they are individually treated with paraffin wax the striker may be useless. Users of acetylene lamps should carry an electric torch, which should be tied by a length of string to a belt or button-hole as a precaution against dropping.

SUNDRIES

A karabiner (a steel ring with a spring-loaded hinged portion, illustrated) fixed to a short length of lifeline rope tied round the waist as a belt, is very useful for quickly clipping on to a belay rope or to ladder ropes. For caves which have deep potholes or noisy pitches it is best for each member to have his own whistle. At least two members of the party should carry some lengths of strong string, a pocket-knife, and a simple first-aid kit containing a bandage, adhesive dressings, and aspirin.

FOOD

Food should always be carried, because strenuous exercise accelerates hunger, which soon produces the feeling of cold and fatigue. For short trips of three or four hours, chocolate, boiled sweets, and biscuits or a sandwich will suffice. For longer trips a good quantity of meat, cheese, or jam sandwiches and cake should be added; and for long, wet excursions or when the task is a slow one, like surveying or photography, a saucepan and some solid fuel to heat tinned soup and make hot coffee should be packed. Dried bananas and raisins are an excellent addition at all times. Those who like variety in their sandwiches and do not normally eat sardines and jam together should wrap up each lot separately in a sheet of plastic, which also helps to keep out the water and sand. If carried in a pocket they will be badly crushed, and so they will be safer in a tin. Do not attempt to pack too much into pockets, because full pockets can be very inconvenient in tight places. Such things as food, candles, and tins of carbide are best carried in a small haversack.

ROPES

These may be of nylon, manilla, hemp, cotton, or sisal, although sisal is not recommended. Nylon is undoubtedly the best for use in caves because it does not rot; but it is expensive and therefore beyond the means of the average caver or small club. For general club use, lifelines should not be less than an inch diameter to withstand rough usage.

Many cavers are not aware of the rock-climbers’ rule of never standing or walking on the rope, which will suffer much damage from nailed boots as well as from the normal hard wear it receives when it runs over rock edges and hauls up tackle or people. Preferably, lifelines should not be left for long in a cave, although it is a common practice to leave them from one week-end to the next; and when they are brought out of the cave they should be thoroughly washed. The normal storage place should be dry, and the coiled ropes should be hung up by a loop of string so that air can circulate all round. A rope should never be hung directly on iron nails.

The length of lifelines is dependent on the depth of pitches for which they are likely to be used and the procedure to be adopted.

It is not good practice to make up a long lifeline by knotting two together, and generally a few lengths of 60, 80, 100, and 120 feet are adequate for most caves if a lifeline man is to be left at the top of each pitch; but if the pulley technique is to be used the length of line should be double that of the pitch plus about 20 feet.

The lengths finally decided upon will thus depend largely on the type of caves to be visited. Rope ends should be bound with twine, not spliced back or knotted, because any appreciable thickening at the ends may cause them to catch in cracks or make them more difficult to tie, or to feed through a pulley or thread belay. It is a good plan to put a few turns of twine around the middle of the longer ropes to show the halfway mark when it is needed for a middleman’s knot for two-end lifelining. For small parties of people accustomed to the proper handling of ropes, alpine climbing or braided nylon lines are perfectly satisfactory, but they should be carried in sacks or haversacks to protect them from undue chafing while they are taken through the cave.

The book went on to give details of how to set up a traverse lifeline running round belays—see illustration.

Anyone passing through Langcliffe on his or her way to Horton-in-Ribblesdale cannot fail to be impressed by the Langcliffe Scar, which dominates the passage. I’d always assumed, perhaps out of ignorance, that the Langcliffe Scar was a natural feature. I have walked and cycled past it in my youth, and compared it with Malham Cove, albeit a smaller version. It was only recently that I found out, that the Langcliffe Scar is in fact man-made, or at least most of it, and the relic of a former limestone quarry—at the base of which is a remarkable piece of Dales industrial archaeology, a very large limekiln!

How the Hoffman kiln would have looked

It would be a few years back, when Wayne Brown, Chris Bosomworth and I had been to some cave or other, around Horton, when Wayne pointed this fact out to Chris and myself—who were blissfully unaware that the kiln even existed. So we went and had a look. The kiln is under the archway on the Settle-Carlisle Railway, near to the paper mill at Langcliffe, and is a respectable structure. This chosen spot was used for the lime works because of its proximity to the railway, and during the nineteenth century was a major employer in the locality. The kiln itself is a Hoffman Kiln, which one can walk into and wander about. The Hoffman Kiln was round in section originally, and intended for use in the brick making industry, but soon adapted for use in lime burning.

The one at Langcliffe, is 128 metres long, and was built in 1873—it is one of the best-preserved kilns in England, and is even listed as an ancient monument of national importance. Take time to have a look when next in the area.

The Hoffman kiln was developed in order to allow continuous operations.

Producing the lime involved charging part of the kiln with limestone lumps, barrowed in from the nearby quarry, calcining them and then drawing off the quicklime produced. The kiln with its 22 chambers allowed two continuous firing sequences to take place at once. The sequence of operations included chambers being loaded, pre-heated, burning, cooling and then unloading. The Craven Lime Company, who worked the Langcliffe Quarries, also operated a smaller Hoffman Kiln at Meal Bank Quarry, Ingleton.

The Craven Lime Company was in operation for some time before the Settle-Carlisle line was opened. The Hoffman Kiln being started in 1872 the structure being completed in 1873. Product was despatched to the railway right from the beginnings of operations on the line, and continued until the 1960's. The Hoffman Kiln here though ceased operations in 1939, lime production then being from more modern Spencer Kilns. A chimney on the site bore the date of 1873 but this is no longer in place having been demolished in 1951 but the main kiln structure is intact and is in quite good condition. Also on the site is the Triple Draw Kiln, a remnant from the Murgatroyd's Lime Works, built in 1872 but almost obsolete when they were completed. The three kilns, built in a single bank, were partially cut into the limestone bedrock. These have brick-lined bowls.

The lime produced was used for a variety of goods, including papermaking, steel manufacture, lime wash and cement, even chocolate manufacturing.

Today, the site of the former Langcliffe Quarry and its lime works is an important habitat to animals and plant life, including bats, cave spiders, and the rare hawkweed. Following a £350,000 conservation project lasting two years, and which finished in October 2002, the Hoffman kiln is now preserved for future generations. The Yorkshire Dales National Park Authority has also placed around the site information panels. If you do visit the site, please respect the ecological value of the place.

Gaping Ghyll Hole

When one stands on the brink of Gaping Ghyll for the first time such an idea no longer seems fantastic or ridiculous. Anyone with a level head and steady nerves may gaze downwards, though not without a repressed shudder, into darkness and blue mist, the impenetrable gloom of an apparently bottomless pit. For most people one glance is sufficient! The mouth of the abyss is oval in shape, 18 feet broad in one direction and 12 feet in the other. It is no less than 340 feet deep. Truly Britain's greatest pothole is an appalling place. It is situated three miles from the village of Clapham, in Yorkshire, about a mile from the summit of Ingleborough, in the heart of a desolate moor and at the end of the hidden valley down which flows Fell Beck. The ground slopes steeply upwards from around the mouth to the moor edge, forming an amphitheatre.

Untold ages ago internal forces ruptured the flat beds of limestone in Yorkshire and tilted them steeply, forming what is now called the Craven Fault. Masses of this rock in this particular locality, thus tilted, were ground together, reducing their inner surfaces to debris, which in time, disintegrated still further and was washed away, forming an immense cavern beneath the shaft of Gaping Ghyll. The shaft itself was a fissure extending to the surface, which has since assumed its present smoothness and symmetry simply by age-long action of falling water. This is a brief summary of the most recent explanation given by geologists to account for the formation of Gaping Ghyll. About 60 years ago a daring individual, one John Birkbeck, of Settle, dug a thousand yard trench, diverting the course of Fell Beck, which generally plunges over Gaping Ghyll, and was lowered at the end of a rope to a ledge two hundred feet below the brink. As there was no sign of the bottom, and he was being deluged by the falling water of a subterranean stream, which also pours into the shaft, he was pulled up.

Then on the first of August 1895, a Frenchman, Monsieur E. A. Martel, reached the bottom by means of a rope ladder. He had a lifeline round his waist for safety, held by five men at the top. He descended through the falling water, and remained below for five hours, thus gaining the distinction of being the first man to make the descent to the cavern and live to tell the tale!

Since then innumerable descents have been made by several societies, notably by the Yorkshire Ramblers' Club, and by the Craven Pothole Club. So excellent are the arrangements, that, although the descent will always be an eerie business, it may now be accomplished in absolute safety and comparative comfort. When the writer made his first descent, many years ago, he found that the waters of the Beck had been turned aside by dam boards into what is known as the, Rat-hole passage, so that the rocks at the top of the Ghyll were dry. A substantial bridge spanned the gulf o Gaping Ghyll.

In the middle of this bridge or "gantry" as it is termed, the upper part of a flanged steel wheel was to be seen. Over this ran a stout wire cable to a winch worked by a petrol engine. Under the gantry hung a strong, slatted wooden seat, access to which was gained by a rope ladder; the apparent risk being minimised by a lifeline.

Since that time the device has been further improved to eliminate the need for a rope ladder. A thick steel bar formed a kind of Gothic arch over the seat, connecting it to the cable. From the arch hung two ropes tipped with spring safety-hooks to be attached to heavy steel rings on the substantial leather belt round the adventurer's waist.

This device would prevent any fatal result occurring even were the descender unseated for any reason; he would still be attached to the steel arch. The descent was perfectly steady and less than 5 minutes were occupied in traversing the 340 feet to the bottom. The pretty fern-draped ledges at the top were soon out of sight and gave place to sheer rock walls, polished like glass by the age-long action of falling water. Because of the concavity of the walls above the point of emergence of the subterranean stream and its own translucence it could not be seen from above. It shot out into space practically soundlessly and gave the observer quite a thrill as he came opposite the yawning black rift behind him from, which it made its appearance.

Down into the stygian darkness below it disappeared, breaking into spray and hissing as it lightly brushed the burnished walls in its passage. Incidentally, this has the distinction of being the highest waterfall An the British Isles, being close upon three hundred feet high or should one say low? At a certain point the chair enters the spray and the drops of water struck upon its occupant like hail, but the guide cables quickly drew it out of this shower bath, and no water could penetrate the huge Macintosh in which he was enveloped. With a distinct shock of surprise he suddenly became aware that his feet had come lightly to rest upon stones and that he was seated at a table a huge boulder with a flat top to which the guide-cable had been previously fastened.

There in front of him stood his guide, a welcoming smile upon his face. Good-natured assistance quickly effected his liberation from the chair and freed him from belt and mackintosh, which were folded up and tied to the seat to be returned for the use of the next descender. Far, far above, beyond those glistening walls of stark rock, was a tiny circle of light. It was like looking up some huge mill chimney.

The spray of the waterfall was yet further disintegrated into water vapour, which filled the lower portion of the shaft with a thin mist. This mist seemed to carry the light from above down with it, for the stones at the bottom were well illuminated, and, from a little distance, the shaft appeared to be filled with a column of light. Probably the explanation is that each tiny particle of water vapour reflects the light from above, giving the effect of a sort of tenuous cohesion, similar to that seen in a rainbow but without colours, and producing a phenomenon which is certainly rare if not unique.

This is the great mystery of Gaping Ghyll and is at present, unsolved. Fluorescine tests reveal the fact that the water comes out at Beck Head, near Clapham Cave, only a mile away, three days later. It is thought that there must be a huge master-cave nearby, in which there is a lake where the water circulates for that period of time. Turning away from the shaft, impenetrable gloom confronted one. There was nothing to see but a yard or so of dimly lit stones in front of one's feet, no walls, no roof, but one sensed immensity! One trod gingerly, afraid to step out, instinctively apprehensive of some other abyss.

Later on, as one became accustomed to the gloom, something of the vastness of the huge cavern was discerned. It is said to be the seventh largest natural chamber in the world. It is rather more that 500 feet long, about 80 feet in breadth, and nearly 150 feet high. In length and breadth its dimensions approximate to the nave and choir of York Minster, but it is nearly 50 feet loftier. Its floor is practical level and most of it is unencumbered with stones. A bold man could therefore step out confidently into the darkness without fear of colliding with a boulder. An amusing, story was recently told of the first man down one year. He descended, swinging loose, it being his duty to affix the guide cable to the boulder. When he came opposite the top of the cavern he looked downward into the darkness, not that he expected to see anything, but he did. Far below him, and far away on the cave floor, besaw what he thought was a tent, but, of course a tent in a cave was ridiculous! He rubbed his eyes, but it was still there. And the lower he got the more it looked like a tent.

Could any of the fellows have erected one the previous year and forgotten it? Then he remembered the winter floods, which would have swept away anything loose. He reached the bottom, still with his eyes on that distant white object. It was a tent! And it was visible because there was a light in it! He felt the hair stiffen on his scalp. He approached it slowly and reluctantly. Yes it was certainly a tent, lit from within. Then he heard voices. What could be the explanation? Ghosts? He was the first man down for six months and happen down by the only way into the cave. A moment later he was being ragged unmercifully by two friends who the day before had made their way into the cave by what is known as the Flood entrance. Literally miles of passages radiate from the cavern. They are to be found not near the floor level as might be expected, but near the roof, and are reached by screes of rocks and mud. They connect the cave with other large chambers, one of which, swathed in mud from floor to roof, is known as the Mud Hall. These passages contain great numbers of very beautiful stalactites and stalagmites. But enough has been said, probably, to convince the reader that Gaping Ghyll is undoubtedly one of the greatest natural wonders of our land. And much of it is yet, not completely explored.

Condensed from an article by H. W. Rhodes, in the ‘Yorkshire Dalesman, July 1941

SIMPSON’S POT, KINGSDALE

Having discussed Eli Simpson earlier on, it might be as well to talk about the cave, or the pothole named after him—Simpson’s Pot, Kingsdale. Anyone who has done this hole, will know, that this, and its sister cave Swinsto Hole are THE classic caves in Yorkshire. It’s possible here to do a ‘pull through trip’ by abseiling down the pitches and emerging at Valley Entrance besides the Kingsdale Road. What is often forgot, is that Simpson’s Cave is also a fine training ground for those new to caving, just taking in the first few pitches. The caves around these parts have been known since time immemorial. For instance, Swinsto, Rowting (sic) caves, Jingling Caves and Pot, Bullpot, Yordas, Kail Pot, and High and Low Douk Caves are all marked on the O.S. Map of 1850. Yet Simpson’s, not in the least inconspicuous, and only a few yards from the Turbary Track isn’t marked.

The entrance to Simpson’s Cave was first noticed by Eli Simpson before the First World War—but it was to be another thirty odd years until the British Speleological Associations meets at Easter 1939, when it was again recalled. The following year, Simpson sent Harold Burgess and J. Greenwood to investigate—they found two holes. The first was a fissure, into which Greenwood dropped down into a streamway, but he was soon stopped by a tight bend.

TIME SHIFT
Craven News July 18th 1953.
TORRENTIAL rain flooded both Ingleborough Cave, at Clapham and Ingleton's White Scar Cave. It was only the third time in living memory that the first had flooded. At Clapham the owners of the café were stranded for two hours until rescuers came to carry them over the water. Considerable damage was done to both caves.

He returned to the surface where he found Burgess 50 yards away attacking a low opening almost completely blocked by vegetation. Both soon crawled into a respectable little hole, which soon enlarged, and after two short pitches came to a pool of water and low roof halted their progress. They were returning to the surface when they were met by ‘Bob’ Leakey who passed the wet crawl to emerge into a high narrow and descending fissure passage. The streamway dropped into a pot, now named ‘The Pit’ and Leakey traversed over until stopped by a 25-foot pitch.

He returned the next day with Arthur Gemmell, C. E. Wray and others with ladders and ropes. The pitch was rigged, and Leakey descended, and disappeared around a corner to be confronted with another pitch of around 15 feet. Leakey found that this could be descended by traversing into the fissure and down, beyond was Storm Pot—a very wet pitch almost thirty feet deep, at the bottom of which the stream appeared to sump. The following week, Leakey returned to the sump, and probed about with a stick. He discovered that the stream actually flowed through a narrow crack with a strong draught beyond. Leakey decided that a ‘little gentle persuasion’ would be required to enlarge the crack. The next three weekends were spent drilling shot holes, and the ‘Blasted Hole’ was indeed enlarged—meanwhile Gemmell, Burgess and Greenwood had been surveying the cave already explored.

The third and final blast took place on 27^th April 1940, and Leakey and Burgess were able to get through into a large passage, which brought them to the head of yet another pitch — Carol Pot. The following Sunday, Leakey returned with seven members carrying ladders and ropes, and at the top of Carol Pot, Leakey Gemmell, J. Gilmour and C. Lewis Railton carried on, while the other three returned to the surface.

From the bottom of Carol Pot the way continued as a narrow rift passage, down the 15 foot Shuffle Pot, followed by Lake Pot, and Aven Pot. At last they arrived at the anticipated big pitch, the bulk of the tackle had however been left at the ‘Blasted Hole’ after the tackle had been brought forward, Lewis Railton squeezed through ‘Slit Pot’ and in doing so became the first person to descend via Simpson’s Pot into Swinsto ‘Final’ Chamber. Since then of course, Swinsto Final Chamber was dug, which gave way to a long wet crawl to emerge into the Kingsdale Master Cave. Finally, Valley Entrance was opened up enabling the through trips from both Swinsto, Simpson’s, and for those not right in the head a free dive through from Rowten Pot sumps is possible.

Main source of reference ‘Cave and Karts Science, Volume 28, Number 3, December 2001’.

Those of you on the Internet, might know of the Old Maps UK site, where the first O.S. Maps of the late 1840s, early 1850s can be seen — I have already mentioned the caves around the Turbary Road, Kingsdale that show up on these — so with nothing to do one day, I began looking at other caving areas. Jackdaw Hole shows up near Sell Ghyll Holes, and Sell Ghyll Barns, one of which is now a ruin is shown, Sell Ghyll Hole itself is not shown, although Sell Ghyll Beck can be seen to end abruptly. Hull Pot and Hunt Pot a little to the east also show up, as does Alum Pot, and numerous ‘potholes’ around it, whereas on Leck Fell only ‘Holes’ and ‘Chasms’ are marked. It might repay to study the caving areas we know today, and compare these with the areas marked on these old maps — perhaps they might reveal some old and lost caverns? ‘Sinks’ and ‘Rises’ as well as ‘Shakeholes’ are marked on these remarkably accurate maps — you never know!

Jack Nadin