It was the weekend of the TSG BBQ and I’d invited along Ben Chaddock and Adam Baldock, the former giving us all a lift to the Peaks. The cave of choice was Rowter, one I’d been to twice up to the J-hang, so I know mostly what to expect. Given that I was still somewhat injured, it was a touch risky. Not only did it have great big pitches, but the most awkward tight spots I’d ever experienced (even the awful thrutches in Providence were standard). I hoped my tendonitis would not be too flared and I’d able to get through the cave without issue (well, without any more pain than Rowter usually gives!)
The night prior, the movie night, the three of us were mighty tired in spite of it being 11pm, so we got an early night (though as it was a caving hut, snoring and loudness from others kept us from a full sleep). We planned to leave at 10ish, so by 8am we were having our breakfast; I believe Chaddock and Baldock were having some leftover from the night before and I – in my typical fashion – ate porridge. It was difficult finishing all I’d made, something Martyn pre-emptively joked about and laughed at seeing his prediction come true!
The weather was beautiful and sunny, so Rowter Farm was packed with campers! Our regular parking spot was taken from us, so we had to change largely in view of the campers. As we did, some Reading cavers came over, being campers as well, and relayed their intent to do Titan. We wished them luck. I borrowed two underlayers from both Baldock and Chaddock, having forgotten my usually baselayer (not my undersuit, I brought that). We used my tackle sack as the miscellaneous bag with water, my drum and the shelter. At the time of writing, I still need to unpack it.
In the drum I’d also stored my phone such that we could take pictures (as I’d promised Bas some cave pictures to prove it wasn’t absolutely terrifying).
We set up the rope and Baldock descended into the cave at… 11:15 I think. Either that or 10:15. In any case, there were some complications with the rebelay so I waited for a while at the top. I got to the bottom of the pitch roughly 30 minutes later. With that, we set off good and proper!
Baldock was – in his typical fashion – enamoured with the cave, it being his first time in Rowter. He’d made many geological comments on the drive over that made me want to take out a book on limestone. The same is true when he expressed his enthusiasm in the cave.
Leading up to the ice-cream series, a metal cross seemed to have been bolted into the rock below one of the traverses to make it easier to get onto the pitch. Right before we entered the series, I packed my SRT kit into a side tackle sack Chaddock had lent me. To accommodate the fact I’d not been caving in months and I was still somewhat injured, he took my tackle sack.
We’d also brought my adjustable spanner, but ended up not needing it and thus stuck it in the mud like the sword in the stone. In addition, as they’d pumped out the sump from the other end, there was a section that was just a bed of soft, deep mud! Upon a mound, Chaddock took a picture of me, Baldock back-lighting.
Dilly-dallying aside, we headed down the ice-cream series. Awkwardness galore! My elbow only hurt very slightly and rarely; barely a 1/10!. This was fantastic, but I was still nervous about the prussik back up.
As we squeezed ourselves down the limestone tubes, I heard words of wonder from Baldock talking about the horizontal line divide where the rock had clearly been layered. Also how there was a slight vertical line that the water was clearly following when the cave was formed. There were additional sections where calcite crystals had formed on the cave wall but had then been subsequently eroded, smoothed by the flowing water.
During one of the squeezes, there was a drop down. It occurred after crawling up a relatively smooth tube. Chaddock and Baldock both recommended moving back, getting my legs ahead of me and pulling myself out by the drop’s handline. I did not feel comfortable doing this, so I decided to go headfirst. I had done so on my previous attempts, but my lack of caving for th elast few months gave me anxieties, so Baldock let me use his back as a somewhat false floor. Lo, I was down.
Evenetually we reached the J-hang and – upon getting onto it myself – it consisted of some of the more strange SRT techniques I’ve ever used. My ascenders were underneath my descender, facing the other way. The loop of rope between the two acted as a foot loop and – after pulling myself sufficiently across – I was able to use it to yank the rope through the jammers and get into a position where I could properly ascend.
The slopes henceforth were either full of pristine calcite or tiny, loose rocks. With the former, we veered off to the side, kept from damaging the flowstone by conservation tape. With the latter, we made sure those behind us were well out of the way before moving; they were only small rocks, but we know how even a small rockfall can be damaging, either in itself or leading to further rockfall. Fortunately, some sections of the slopes had metal nets put in place to prevent too many rocks from falling all the way.
I was wary about how many pitches we had left, so opted to stop and call this the end, but a misunderstanding on where the end of “this pitch” was pushed me forwards a few anchors. Before long I sat down for a rest but – upon being told there was only one more pitch – I kept going. The one I was sort of on at that point had an atrocious rebelay. It was extremely close to some beautiful – albeit short – formations. Not touching them while going up and changing over was not a fun experience.
Up in the final chamber, there were some lovely statactites, but now we were a touch tired and were ready to move on, knowing we had some awful upwards squeezes, climbs and pitches waiting for us. Safe in the knowledge that the primary caving movements didn’t hurt my elbow I was confident getting back, though maybe my stamina would take a hit.
I zoomed off ahead of the others after eating some nuts and raisins, quickly reaching the dreaded J-hang. In spite of being on it earlier, I could not for the life of me, for about 5-10 minutes, get the technique right. Frustrated to hell, I then realised the problem. I turned around and all was fine. My chest jammer had been applying pressure to the rope on the descender side, so friction was at an all time high! With this removed, all was well. Mostly. Getting back to the anchor point was a bit of a pain, but after some minutes of tired grunting and shoving myself into the rock, I was fine! Now came the part I’d done before: the ice-cream series, now uphill!
I managed the first climb alright, but anxiety and my lack of caving got the better of me at the second, waiting for the others to arrive to give me the beta. I’d got to the middle of the climb several times but could not figure out how to get further safely.
Baldock tried it next and cracked it, figuring a twist into the rock to allow your back to assist you. I gave it a try and it worked like a dream; Chaddock got it absolutely fine, though we used the handline to pull up the tackle sack first.
The subsequent upwards squeezes were brutal in their own fun way, but we all pretty much managed it! During one, Baldock went through a tube at the top after judging the bottom one too narrow. He thus had to climb up, but the walls were quite smooth and so Chaddock had to push on his feet to propel him. I spotted rather lacklusterly from below. After Baldock made his way through, I took a look at the entrance he’d neglected. It looked alright, so I used the area Baldock had placed his feet as handholds, slotting myself in – as I recall – feet first. I was then able to turn myself around and continue.
The climb where I went upside down was a fun one! I got through it fine and was able to turn myself around in the downhill tube such that I slid feet down. Lying at the bottom, I looked up and saw – upside down no less! – Chaddock sliding down head first at an alarming speed! I yelped a touch and scampered out of the way. At the bottom, even Chaddock was alarmed by how fast he went. It was due of course to the low friction nature of the PVC.
Ah! Something I’d forgotten to mention! Our rope for the entrance pitch was too short! Getting down, we managed thanks to the rope stretch. Getting up, however, was a more difficult affair. After talking about the order of getting out, we settled that I’d be first, Baldock would be last. But it seemed that the rope was still a touch high; we had to get a pile of rocks and stand upon that just to reach the rope with an outstretched hand, just enough to clip on our hand jammers. As I pulled it down, Baldock helped me while I shifted the jammer up and clipped my chest jammer on. Even with the already present rope, my weight brought me to the cave floor. Baldock held the rope tight below me to assist my ascent.
I got out in about 20 minutes, I estimate. Getting to the top, I pushed the grate off with my head, giving a hefty grunt! Upon yelling rope free, I lay down in the grass and had a pleasant nap, staying nice and warm out of the wind.
The others took a while to get out – indeed I first had hints of their issues after I passed the rebelay. Something about passing more rope through the deivation, but there was nowt else I could do. It turns out that after I went up, the rope was even higher, the others needing to go on each others shoulders to rech the rope. To prevent Baldock being stranded, he remained clipped to the rope while Chaddock ascended, leading to an awful double pendulum!
But we were all out and in good time. We spent roughly 6 hours underground and arrived back at the TSG in time for the BBQ.
Castleton limestone, it’s been a while
Back to the underground I venture
The darkness sparking a smile
No more am I a back bencher
As I thrutch the climbs and move past pain
Listening to chatter about a bedding plane
Down old Rowter, it’s my third time lucky
Turning back before the climb
Back now it’s time to go get mucky
(There’s not much mud, I just needed to the rhyme)
Slopes of stones, oh so slippy
To worn down flowstone, much more grippy
Down and up, out we go!
A fine return to caving
I thought at first I’d go in slow
Keep it easy to stop the arm from paining
But I’m glad now I came along
Knackered, eyes closed, resting under birdsong
