During an especially depressing weekend last month, Andy Mac phoned with some words of wisdom; "Your wetsuit hasn't shrunk - it's you that's got bigger!" What cheek! Slanderous, even! However, hearing that he was requesting my company on a forthcoming 'epic'. I decided to let him off. He said he was on a quest. I should have realised that such 'epics' don't get offered around lightly - but I had to make my return to caving sometime.

D-Day was Easter Sunday. My chance came on Saturday night when Chunder & Linda invited me to their BBQ on Sunday afternoon. Excellent! I could back out of caving gracefully, as to turn down such an offer would be tantamount to ingratitude. Sunday morning came - and brought drizzle!

"Bugger it - I've come up here to go caving", I thought... But Linda had bought some Tiger Prawns...Mmm..."Ah well, it's now or never." So I grabbed my tackle and jumped into Pete's van, to be taken to a place far, far away...

The weather wasn't too bad now, so changing was almost fun. The drizzle had stopped. I could have gone to a barbecue. Still...Across the moor, down the dale, up the other side and back down again went the Magnificent Seven and could soon see their final destination.

Outside the entrance were three Polar Bears. "Nice temperature in there", growled one. Assuming this to be some sort of mirage brought on by copious quantities of alcohol consumed the previous night, we entered the dark, loose-walled shaft.

"Are the tight bits long?" asked Dave.

"No," replied Andy. "The longest section is about 10 feet."

The nice drop quickly turned into a sideways crawl, a bit on the small side, but on we went - thinking of barbecues.

"How long is this bit?" asked Dave.

"There's a chamber here", came the reply.

Having re-assembled in the chamber, the way on was along Tolkienesque passages of mud and water, only just body sized for most of the party.

"This place probably floods very quickly", commented one.

"Mmm...cheers...great", came the response.

Soon the small, cold muddy passage ended - to be replaced by one with a pebble floor. This passage wasn't quite as big as the previous one and thoughts turned to Tiger Prawns... After a bit of persuasion, Dave succeeded in passing this obstacle only to be faced by the thrutchy climb with the strategically placed knob of rock.

"Ow!", cried I.

"Ooh!" said Adrian.

"#*££*@%$ !" grunted Dave.

There was nothing else for it, Dave had met his match this time and no way was he going to force this obstacle into defeat. After a long debate, only the daftest three of us decided to carry on - the rest deciding to return to base.

Ten yards further on was a fork - wet or dry? Andy took the wet route! Flat out, the three of us pushed on through the water. At the far side, a brass monkey was laughing at us. Hands & knees and on & on went the explorers, dramatically suffering from the effects of PHW, hoping they were on their way to Hell - at least it would be warmer!

"This way," said Andy. "There's a nice draught here. YES!!!". We followed quickly as Andy pushed his head through the slit into the huge chamber. At the far side of the chamber, a shaft of daylight was winking at us. A 60' pitch. Could it be free climbed? Or must we return through the waterlogged, mud-ridden maze that had led us to this place? Ah, the temptation was great. Only 60 feet...such cold water...nearly out...or the chance to wring that bloody monkey's neck! The risk was too great, so it was back towards that wonderful, life-giving water. Andy went through, blowing brown bubbles. We followed - slowly. 'It would have been warmer at the barbecue', I mused.

Soon we were back at the chamber where we'd left the others. Andy slipped and was caught in the chest by the strategically placed rock. But where was the pebble crawl? Dave must have dug away the entire floor in his bid to escape from this tortuous place. The mud crawl had, however, gained about a 4" depth of water. Was it raining? Had the others done unspeakable thing in our passage? Could Dave really have lost so much sweat?

Thoughts were in our heads that we were nearly out. Only the sideways thrutch to go. Nearly there. Then...DAYLIGHT AGAIN! Up the shaft we climbed, but by now my fingers were so numb that they just didn't want to play the game. At the top, I lost my grip, my cheeks were flapping in the wind. Then I was out. Too late to go to the barbecue. Too late to find a viable excuse not to go caving. For a moment...a thought...had I really enjoyed it? The Polar Bears had gone and the monkey was starting to look like a pint of beer. Memories of days of yore came flooding back and once again - I found I was hooked.

Kev Sheard

(with Andy McCarron, Adrian Howden, Steve Redman, Adrian Dilnot, Pete Matthews and Dave (?) )