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Written by: Josh

Published: 24 January 2026

Hits: 192

The much-anticipated Q1 caving and poker weekend, three months in the making, had finally arrived. Turnout was strong, with only one late dropout: Josh K, who pulled out with the weak excuse of needing emergency heart surgery. Thankfully, he’s still with us.

The rest of us with fully functioning hearts included: Josh G (myself), Adam L, Ben, Aaron, Adam S, Jack H, Ethan, Jack C and Joe. Nine in total.

Friday night preparation consisted of my homemade 100-slide presentation on the Peak–Speedwell system. This included an in-depth history lesson, some hilarious banter and a breakdown of route options, from the classic round trip to the far sump extensions. In the end, the group voted for a round trip with a detour via Moss Chamber. I also casually mentioned that the constant rain meant there was a slight chance of flooding but it would probably be fine…

Saturday morning, we set off for Castleton. Spirits were high until, at the top of Winnats Pass, I got a call from our keyholder confirming the water level was above the step. For the uninitiated, that’s a key indicator of flood risk. No matter how hard I begged and pleaded over the phone for us to give it a go, the rest of my car, who were getting second-hand embarrassment by this point, eventually helped me realise that my dream of going in Peak Cavern was dead. The rest of the journey to Castleton was filled with them trying to console me. 

After regrouping at the chapel, I reassured everyone I had a solid Plan B: a vertical, tight, muddy hellhole known as Winnats Head Cave. While this did not have the same impressive sights as Peak Cavern, I did mention the possibility of a pool party if we make it to the bottom. 

We suited up, mostly in a questionable mix of second-hand army and construction gear, and made the steep walk up Winnats Pass. By the time we reached the entrance, a small downward crawl, most of us were already exhausted from the trek.

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Before

I gave a few last words of advice (as you’re pretty much single file for most of the way), and I headed in first. Within minutes, it was chaos.

I was flat out, headfirst on a steep downwards slope while pushing boulders that blocked the way on. This would be a normal situation in Winnat's Head Cave except there were more rocks cascading down onto my head, dislodged by the other oafs entering the cave like a one-armed juggler with three chainsaws. I tried shouting for them to stop kicking debris down on me, but my large JBL speaker was blasting Arctic Monkeys so loud I couldn’t even hear myself. It was like something out of a Vietnam War montage video.

Further in, the crawl tightened: arms out in front, inching forward. Not ideal for those who had worn wetsuits in anticipation of a wet Peak Cavern trip. They were now, quite literally, being boiled alive.

Eventually, we reached the first chamber, where several people immediately started shedding layers. From there, we moved into the main chamber and began descending the first boulder choke. The group handled the squeezes and scrambles well, and we soon arrived in Fox’s Chamber, one of the highlights of the cave which is (20x10x30m - by my best judgement)

In the Fox Chamber

I reached it first and headed to the far side, watching as a slow procession of headlamps appeared one by one, emerging into the chamber. I also discovered a surprising amount of Blue John and an impressive mud formation, shaped something like a mushroom…

After a short break during which the first-timers marvelled that caving isn’t all tight, muddy suffering, we tackled the second boulder choke. This involved negotiating a few drops, but communication along our single-file line was excellent, and we made it to the final chamber without incident.

The final chamber features a large, deep circular pool. Those of us who were up for it ventured to the end of the “sewer”, a pretty tight, wet crawl which takes a bit of patience and a physical struggle to get through.

Joe H coming through the Sewer

After returning to the pool, we then had a quick swim to clean off. We didn’t linger, the water was, unsurprisingly, freezing so we decided to warm up by heading back out which meant climbing up everything we had descended. 

Underground Pool Party

The exit involved a series of short climbs, almost like boulder problems, but with added claustrophobia. Some sections required a few attempts and good beta being passed back. The toughest obstacle was the “Vertical Vice”: a tight 3m slot where you have to turn your head sideways and rely on a mix of brute force and creative elbow and knee work.

I went first and made it up. Jack H followed, attempting to haul himself up using a small hand rope (despite my advice to the contrary). He quickly exhausted himself, and after a 10-minute battle, got near the top, before giving up and sliding all the way back down, declaring he’d never make it out.

Morale wavered slightly among those waiting below.

So, before his second attempt, we sent a few others up first. Taking a more measured approach, they made it through. On his second go, Jack also succeeded, having remembered he had legs as well as arms.

From there, the exit went relatively smoothly (aside from a brief moment of being lost), and we even had a few sing-alongs to keep spirits high.

Back at the first chamber, just as I was about to head through the entrance crawl, I heard groaning from ahead. Another group was coming in. A head soon appeared through the crawl. Fortunately, we avoided meeting them in the crawl itself which would have been quite the introduction. Instead, both groups gathered in the small chamber, numbering around 15 of us in total.

We exchanged pleasantries and learned they were mostly from TSG. They complimented our t-shirts, which we took as a major win, and then we headed out.

If the entrance crawl felt tiring on the way in, it was far worse on the way out.

Eventually, though, I reached fresh air and climbed out onto the ledge above Winnats Pass. I was greeted by a stunning view over Hope Valley and a perfect sunset. Freedom never felt so good.

One by one, the group emerged, some shouting in relief, followed by embracing one another in victory. We paused for a moment, taking it all in and reflecting on what we’d just done, before jogging back to the TSG hut. 

After that: showers (excellent, by the way) and a well-earned feast at the local pub.

To conclude, the best trips are often the unexpected ones. While Winnats Head lacks the grandeur of Peak Cavern, there’s something about its relentless and thrown in at the deep end nature that made it an unforgettable day out. Those who were unsure before about going underground in tight spaces with 9 men are now eager for the opportunity to do so again, which I have no doubt we will. 

After

 

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Written by: Victoria Kocher

Published: 21 January 2026

Hits: 725

Mandale Mine

Cat, Julian, Brendan, Alan, Pete, Chris, Robert, Edvin, Victoria —  the somewhat older and now slightly soggier birthday human.

It was a damp Tuesday evening (when isn’t it in winter), and the usual suspects had been summoned to neoprene up for what could only be described as a “moderately aquatic expedition.” Jess, bless her, swung by with a birthday card and good cheer — she's nearly cave-ready again, which is excellent news.

We rendezvoused at the lay-by, and headed to the entrance. The gate looked just as it should — locked and undisturbed. Being freshly a year older, I had the brilliant idea of combining a conservation survey and birthday cake.

Cat brought a stunning carrot cake. I, meanwhile, had baked my own offering and lovingly sealed it inside a paper bag, then a backpack. Genius-level waterproofing, I thought at the time.

This being the first survey of the new year, I also planned to take photos of the collapse inside. Naturally, I forgot the waterproof phone case. Thankfully, Robert was  equipped with a Daren drum and patient enough to serve as “Keeper of the Phone.” Each time I needed it, he somehow retrieved it without rolling his eyes (too much).

We reached the water faster than expected, which was definitely deeper than on previous trips— waist-deep, then chest-deep, then “I wished I was two inches taller deep.” Holding my cakes aloft touching the ceiling, we pressed on.

Cat, cheerfully announced that the airspace continued ahead. Encouraged, we all did an awkward sideways shuffle through the passage that involved some helmet-removing, and one very cold ear (mine).

Finally, we reached the collapse. Several feet of mud, zero view of the rumored plastic pipe, and the idea that the mud may be moving a bit forward into  the passage. But hey — we’d made it! Time for cake diplomacy.

Against all odds, both cakes survived! Out came a tea light candle and the world’s most indecisive lighter. We  sang an enthusiastic but slightly damp rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

Then it was time to retreat through the flooded passage, pausing only for a bit of exploring and the classic group photo — in which Pete appeared to be auditioning for a “how hypothermia starts” PSA. Note to self: wetsuit for Pete is now officially top priority.

We all emerged into the frosty night.  After peeling off layers of neoprene that may or may not have fused to our bodies, we made a quick detour to The Bulls Head. A warm fire, a fine pint, and good friends.  Note to self: bring my own daren drum next time. 

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Written by: Victoria Kocher

Published: 19 December 2025

Hits: 1164

Christmas caving and immersion in frigid subterranean waters

The Twelve Disciples of Tuesday gathered this week for our annual festive pilgrimage underground. Julian, Katie, John, Edvin, Chris (twice), Kat, Katie (also twice), Rob, Rich, Alan and Victoria assembled, while Jess met us in the car park armed with generous provisions to share. Sadly, her knee isn’t quite cave-ready yet—we missed you, Jess.

In the hotel car park, we donned our layers, lights, and seasonal sparkle, properly dressed and suitably bedazzled. Then off we went: wellies on, headtorches glowing, rubbish sacks at the ready. A few new pieces of graffiti greeted us at the entrance, and with a jump, a squeeze, and a collective shuffle, we were in.

Recent rainfall had transformed the cave into a gloriously drippy, muddy affair. We found a suitable rock table and laid out our Christmas fayre before heading off to explore. Time was taken to admire the historic graffiti—remarkably beautiful, really—and to reflect on it as an unusual but touching form of conservation: echoes of visitors past, names and moments preserved in stone.

We reached the staircase and descended to the wishing well, then regrouped—though one group clearly seemed to be enjoying themselves more than the other. Reunited, we lingered by a strikingly beautiful pool. I’m fairly certain Katie was the instigator… kit began to come off, and resistance proved futile.

Six of the twelve disciples took the plunge, immersing themselves in the icy subterranean waters. Brilliant, it was. We even discovered we could swim beneath the rock into a smaller pool beyond. With some enthusiastic filming and a fair amount of flailing, we braved the cold and confidently declared a new tradition born.

I, having come straight from work, had managed to layer my caving gear over my work clothes—too many layers, as it turns out—and somewhere in the depths I appear to have lost a purple sock. If anyone finds it, please let me know.

After some glass clean-up, we headed back to feast. Ginger, mulled wine, cheese, sausages, homemade treats and mince pies warmed us through. Stories were shared, laughter echoed, and Christmas cheer flowed freely.

It was hard to leave the underground world, especially when the surface greeted us with a blustery three degrees. A truly excellent trip.