Mossdale Session 84

Mossdale Session 84

Mon 23rd March 2020

(Simon Beck)


'Duchovny 19'

Another early start, arriving at the scar for half nine, underground for ten.

Strangely the entrance series felt like a right arse clencher. After somewhere in the region of 250 traverses of this section, I guess I'm pessimistic it will be me something drops on.

Main duck was similar to the previous session's departure state. Had to remove helmet and duck under again. Spent a short time removing more of the dam. The country being plunged into nationwide lockdown was looking more likely over the coming days. I wanted to try and do as much as I could just in case there was another big flood before I was allowed back.

The draught in the narrows prior to Piston Chamber was not as evident this time round, the weather topside was markedly different.

Mossdale Sessions 83

Mossdale Session 83

Sat 21st March 2020

(Simon Beck)


'Mossdale is mine!'

Postponed from the previous day. I hadn't quite been ready, with things still to organise and acquire, which is a pathetic excuse considering I'd only been waiting eight weeks for the opportunity to return. At the time one more day didn't feel like such a bad thing. Though, had I known what was coming Monday I'd have done back to back days till then.

An exceedingly early start was had, not necessarily making up for the previous day either, find I'm far better motivated with really early starts than slightly later ones. My neighbours probably thought I'd shit the bed.

Mossdale Sessions 82

Mossdale Session 82

Wed 22nd January 2020

(Simon Beck, Nicola...)


'La Femme Nikola'

Today's was the first Mossdale visit of the new year and working trip since late autumn (2019). Aside from a Dowbergill solo early November and a visit to Blackpool Sands (Mossdale) on New years eve I hadn't done anything worthy of note since.
The purpose of work had me fooled for a bit, and lasted a few months before those old reflexes returned. A dream about Langcliffe Pot when I was still happily ensconced derailed any expectation it would last. I was in the entrance of Oddmire Pot, through one hole was a serene picturesque canal bank with cottages, happy people and an obvious nice life, through the other and past a pile of my caving books was the far harder and menacing dream version of Langcliffe Pot.