BB0827 : A Visit to Mud Hall

Tuesday 19th August 2008

Before I get round to telling you the tale of our visit to Mud Hall, I have a quiz question for you.

Should he

Correct!  Rest it until the inflammation dies down.

For those of you, like me, who guessed right but hadn’t a clue where it is, the Sacroiliac Joints are located at the bottom of the back. You have one either side of the spine. The sacroiliac joints help make up the rear part of the pelvic girdle and sit between the sacrum and the ilia (so C would not have been a bad answer).

BB0826 may have been the shortest walk of the year but it inflicted the most damage! Bryan was not the only casualty.  I ended up with a sprained left ankle and tendonitis in my right Achilles heel.  Different body parts but same treatment.

So the “Big One” was postponed yet again and even lesser walks had to wait.

One good thing that came out of this episode,  Bryan introduced me to the cybertherapist at the Sports Injury Clinic. No, not a pretty young thing straight out of college but a. good website for self diagnosing sporting injuries.  Or for those still working, new ways to "do a sickie", as they say in Liverpool.

Three weeks later and Bryan's injury was on the mend but not sufficiently for him to risk crawling around Gaping Gill.  We had of course been there last year (see BB0725: To Hell In a Bucket. And Back!!!) but this time promised to be different.  Stan, Tony, Philip et al are all wimps when it comes to this type of outing.  Martin would have come but was away so that left only Stuart and me for Richard's conducted tour of the parts not normally seen by the public during the annual winchings.

Richard had given us, or at least me, a detailed briefing on where he planned to take us, what sort of conditions to expect, what to wear and what training to undertake.

Recommended clothing was old and waterproof or perhaps an old boiler suit that didn’t matter getting so dirty that it would never be clean again.  Training involved crawling under a tray held eighteen inches off the ground in readiness for a flat crawling section in an inch or more of water.

It took me a while to decide what to wear but the old boiler suit seemed a good idea and I could couple it with my builder’s kneepads.  However, panic mode started to set in when, late the night before, I couldn’t find my old boiler suit.  Margaret then reminded me that it had shrunk and had been thrown out.  Eventually I decided on the waterproof route, using my lightweight roll-into-a-sac cagoule and, ditto, trousers.  I wasn’t that worried because I three quarters expected the outing to be cancelled as it was pouring down and the forecast was as bad.

Come the morning, Richard and Stuart arrived.  It wasn’t exactly raining but the clag was down and the fields full of water.  It seemed unlikely that the winch would be running but off we set to Ingelsport at Ingleton to hire helmets with lamps.  The owner didn’t think it would be open but said the only way to find out was to go and see.  So we did.

We parked at Clapham where Richard presented us with something he had omitted from the briefing notes.  Cowtails.  A belt with two ropes off, each with a carabiner on the end. These, he informed us, were for attaching to the safety ropes on the traverses with the steep drops.  What???  I thought of Tony and understood why he wasn’t with us.

As we made our way up the valley, we passed streams, nay, torrents that Richard advised us were completely dry in summer.  One particularly interested him as it emerged from a cave opening that he had not seen before.  He duly noted it for future reference.

At Ingleton cave, Clapham Beck was in spate, roaring out from the cave.  That means roaring down Gaping Gill.  It was most unlikely that the winch would be operating.

As we emerged from the gully at the top of the glen out onto the moorland, the mist began to lower.   We passed Bar Pot where Stan fell 30 feet and survived (and is the reason he wasn't with us today) and then Wade's Entrance, conveniently labelled by the Craven Pothole Club.

We caught a glimpse of the tented village that is the Craven Pothole Club’s meet and then it vanished.  However we could hear the hum of a generator.  As we neared, the mist parted and we could see that the winch was operating.

We checked-in and got changed.  I got out the first sac and pulled from it the black lightweight cagoule and put it on.  I then got out the second sac and pulled from it the black lightweight cagoule and wept.  I had packed the wrong sac. No waterproof trousers- I would have to brave the elements in the same pants that had had such a soaking up Wet Wet Wet Sleddale (BB0812)! Nevermind. It couldn’t be as bad as that trip, could it?

As we queued for the winch I knew the answer.  No.  Not as bad.  Far worse.  Everyone who came up was absolutely drenched.  The lady on the gate asked where we were going and told us that if there was any more rain they might have to close the winch.  They would get everyone out of the main chamber but those exploring elsewhere would have to come up the escape route.  I already knew that this meant climbing a 100-foot vertical ladder.  Not something at which I am very good.  Indeed I could do with someone is good at it to fix our gutters!

Nevertheless I had paid my entrance fee and there was no point in hanging around moping.  Down I went, into the cold, cold waterfall in the deep, deep cavern. A drop of over 100 metres.  In the cold, cold waterfall.

Richard and Stuart were waiting for me and Richard decided first to take us to have a look at one of the illuminated sides of the cavern.  What he didn’t say was that it involved walking through the waterfall.  What I could not understand was how, at that depth, the water was flying at me horizontally.  It was like being on the fells on a bad day in the middle of winter. And then we had to go back through it into the main cavern.

Next the parts that other people don’t reach.  We were led up a slope that was rocky but covered in mud.  Quite a steep scrambly climb until we reached a ladder up into the West Passage.  Sometimes this went up, sometimes down, sometimes we could stand up but mostly it was hands and knees.  

Eventually we reached the aptly named Mud Hall, quite a big chamber, very muddy. Richard offered us the opportunity of pressing on into a more serious passage until we decided we had had enough.  

I said I would wait here for them and Stuart decided to wait with me so that was the end of this exploration.  

We retraced our steps to the first rope section where, to my horror, I discovered I had lost the belt Richard had lent me with the cowtails.  It must have come off when I stopped to adjust my gaiters in Mud Hall.  The two of them set off back in search of it whilst I contemplated the rope and wondered if I had the guts to cross the traverse just hanging on with my hands.  I had concluded that needs must but was saved from being put to the test as Stuart had found the belt.  Thank goodness it had come off when it did and not with me testing a dangle from the rope!  I refitted it, much tighter this time and we made our way back.  The return seemed much easier and much quicker, although I decided not to risk taking a photo of the column as to do so would have meant disturbing my belt to access the camera.

Before re-entering the grand chamber, Richard called a team meeting.  Did we want to explore another passage, drier, less muddy but with more crawling or had we had sufficient?  I asked if there was anything to see and got the impression that it would be pretty much the same as we had already witnessed.  I said that I didn’t want to be a party pooper but I felt that what we had done had given me a good understanding of what the tunnels were like and I didn’t feel the need to explore further, even though we had only done a fraction of the cave system.  Stuart, fortunately, felt exactly the same. Consequently, and probably to Richard’s disgust but he hid it well, we joined the line for the winch.

Waiting for the winch

Going up in the chair, a delightful shade of lilac, seemed much less exposed to the water than on the way down.  And then, suddenly, it was every bit as wet.  Like my predecessors, I emerged from the winch soaking only to discover that it was absolutely pouring down on the surface.  Fortunately by the time we were all up it had stopped and we were able to take a team picture of the muddy trio.

It was a pleasant stroll back down to Clapham.  We received strange looks from some folk and a more knowledgeable comment from one- “You look like you have been to Mud Hall”, he said.  Too true.

It was, as Stuart said, a memorable experience and I am grateful to Richard for taking the trouble to guide us to Mud Hall and back.  But is caving is a sport that I will be in a hurry to take up?  Somehow, I don’t think it is quite me.

 Don, 19th August 2008

No track log, this time.  The route is too simple!

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For the latest totals of the mileages, heights and Lakeland Fells Books Wainwrights see: Wainwrights.

If anyone wants to claim other peaks, please let me know and I will submit them to the adjudication committee!

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Archive

2008 Outings

• BB0801 :
  Avoiding the Graupel;  
  Wednesday 16 January
• BB0802 :
  Lyth in the Old Dogs;
  Tuesday 22 January
• BB0803 :
  That's Lyth;
  Sunday 27 January
• BB0804 :
  Tony's Memory Lane;
  Wednesday 30th January
• BB0805 :
  Fell's Belles!
  Thank You Mells
  Wednesday 6th February  
• BB0806 :
  The Langdale Skyline
  and a Fell Race!
  Wednesday 13th February
• BB0807a:
  An Outbreak of Common Sense;
  Thursday 21st February
• BB0807b:
  Askham Fell and
  the Lowther Estate;   
  Thursday 13th March
• BB0808 : 
  Thanks to the MWIS
  Wednesday 19th March
• BB0809 :  
  High Street and Kidsty Pike
  but no Fairy
  Friday 28th March
• BB0810 :  
  Prelude to Spring
  Wednesday 2nd April
• BB0811 :  
  Spring in Lakeland
  Sunday 6th April
• BB0812 :  
  Wet, Wet, Wet Sleddale to Mosedale Cottage
  Thursday 10th April
• BB0813 :  
  What's It All About, Tony?
  Thursday 17th April
• BB0814 :  
  The Hidden Mountain
  Tuesday 22nd April
• BB0815 :  
  The Bowland CROW
  Thursday 1st May
• BB0816 :  
  High Cup Nick:
  The Gurt La'al Canyon
  Wednesday 7th May
• BB0817 :  
  Travelling Light
  Wednesday 14th May
• BB0818 :  
  Pensioners’ Day Out
  Thursday 22nd May
• BB0819 :  
  The Northern Tip
  Thursday 29th May
• BB0820 :  
  The Bannisdale Horseshoe
  Wednesday 11th June
• BB0821 :  
  Black, White or Grey Combe?
  Thursday 19th June
• BB0822 : 
  Thunder on the 555
  Thursday 3rd July
• BB0823 : 
  We'll Give It Five
  Thursday 10th July
• BB0824 :
  Shelters from the Storm
  Thursday 17th July
• BB0825 :
  The Big Wind-Up
  Wednesday 23rd July
• BB0826 :
  Tony’s Third (and wettest) Alfie
  Wedmesday 30th July
• BB0827 :
  A Visit to Mud Hall
  Tuesday 19th August
• BB0828 :
  The Tale of Randy Gill
  Tuesday 27th August
• BB0829 : Mosedale Cottage Revisited
  Wednesday 3rd September

• BskiB08 : Bootski Boys in the Sella Ronda  
  23rd February - 1st March 

Click on the photos for an enlargement or related large picture.

Wainwrights

Bryan has kindly produced a log of which Wainwrights have been done by which BOOTboy in the "modern" era, i.e. since the advent of BOOTboys.  

To download the Excel file click on Wainwrights.  

If anyone wants to claim other peaks, please let me know and I will submit them to the adjudication committee!

BOOT boys

This page describes an adventure of BOOTboys, a loose group of friends of mature years who enjoy defying the aging process by getting out into the hills as often as possible!

As most live in South Lakeland, it is no surprise that our focus is on the Lakeland fells and the Yorkshire Dales.

As for the name, BOOTboys, it does not primarily derive from an item of footwear but is in memory of Big Josie, the erstwhile landlady of the erstwhile Burnmoor Inn at Boot in Eskdale, who enlivened Saint Patrick's Day 1973 and other odd evenings many years ago!

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