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Gaping Gill via Bar Pot and Flood Entrance

Paul, Alison, Steve, Mike, Claire & J.

B@B (Breakfast at Bernies) then off to Clapham and a hot walk across the moor to the have a look down the main 300-foot shaft. The ropes in their bags were soaked in the stream that disappeared down the void, so there would be better friction for our descenders.

We walked back down the hill for a few hundred metres to split the group down the two entrances we were to use.

Steve, Alison and I descended Bar Pot leaving Paul Claire and J to the more interesting Flood Entrance. On the walk up I was pleased to hear that it was named Flood Entrance because it was a good way into the system when there was too much water hoofing down the main shaft, and not because the Flood Entrance floods!

Back at Bar Pot Steve rigged whilst Alison scurried off to find cover for a call of nature. Too many tourists about, she complained.

Down we went to the first pitch, which was a tight little slot (for some) approached at an awkward angle followed by a nice abseil.

At the foot of the last pitch we found evidence of other cavers in there (pirates .. no permit) in the form of all their kit for rope work (SRT kit). Big place .. no problem.

We dumped our gear and a quick walk and scramble along a rift brought us into a big vertical chamber. Down was the sump, and up, from where hopefully Paul and co were "dropping" down to meet us. We traversed around the chamber and stood at the entrance of a good-sized passage. This was to be our way on.

Above out of the darkness, boots on rope appeared followed by a bit of water. It was Paul bringing his merry team in. A quick swing onto our ledge and the others were called down to join us.

More SRT kit dumping, and now back as one group we headed for the main Gaping Gill chamber.

The passage was mainly upright going and of good size with a bit of crawling here and there. We saw a taped off area where tiny cave pearls where sitting in their little pool of water and somehow surviving all the tramping of feet on this popular route. We arrived at the aptly named T-junction to hear the story of how Jamie had moved ahead on a previous trip and secretly planted on a low boulder a flashing Santa (as in light, for the curious) and then slipped back to join the group. As the group approached the T-junction Jamie looked down and said "Oh look, a flashing Santa" and walked on past leaving a very perplexed group of cavers. It is now known as Flashing Santa junction as far as Swaledale CC are concerned.

I had never been to Gaping Gill before, seen all the great piccys, but this was going to be the real thing. I could not believe that I was so excited. I mean at fifty plus you reckon nothing is really going to faze you out anymore. You've been through life, done lots of things and seen wondrous sites and this is really only a big hole in the ground with a stream running down for a bit of atmosphere ... innit?

As we progressed further along the passage the breeze became stronger from the force of the water pushing the air down the main shaft. Shortly after we heard the roar from the water smashing into the bottom of the pot.

I now sensed that even the hardened cavers amongst us who had been here before were caught up in the excitement, and we all quickened our pace for the last few metres. We entered the shaft about thirty feet off the main floor looking down an easy scramble with the waterfall out there in the gloom. The air was full of light spray and our ears were filled with the noise of a 300-foot waterfall.

I was impatient to get to the base of the fall as it all felt surreal, and I just wanted to experience standing in that place. As we crossed the chamber the wind buffeted us and things got wetter. We did not have the light you see in the photographs but it made no difference to the splendour of the place. There was a fair amount of water coming down and J and I moved closer so we could look up the shaft. We could see the water hitting a ledge a few metres down from the surface, which launched it down the centre of the shaft in a great plume. We just stood there and took it all in.

To cut a long story short it was a humbling place and I was reluctant to leave but felt privileged to have been there.

We trogged off to Mud Hall, the second largest chamber in the country, which is another amazing place.

I will leave you with Gaping Gill.

We swapped exits on the return journey and emerged into a very cold, dark and thick misty night.

We thought we were in bother when Paul decided to jam his foot in a limestone grike whilst his body kept going, but the swearing seemed to work and we hurried off the moor and finished with a pint or two to make up for lost liquid.

Mike Peters

Last Modified: 7 May, 2003