- UK Summer 2009 -
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Traveling internationally with a five and two year old seemed like a pretty ambitious task, not because they are bad travelers, because they aren't, but more because of the clutter that must accompany them.  Regardless, travel we must and a trip to England was certainly due.  So in late December 2008 plans were taking shape.  Tickets on an American Airline's flight were bought.  Two for the original amount of $1,540 (later reduced to $1,200) each and two on air miles.  Getting there is the most expensive part, so it seemed reasonable to stay for three weeks.  By the end of it all we were ready to be home in Northern Wisconsin.

The major highlights of this trip were:

• Eskdale and the La'al Ratty.

• Caving in the Yorkshire dales.

• Edinburgh.

• London.

• Chester.

• Around Cumbria.

Traveling - We set off from Rhinelander on Sunday, July 5th and eventually reached Cumbria on July 7th.  It took close to 36 hours to get from one door to the other.  The flights, Green Bay to Chicago and then, after a 5 hour layover, Chicago to Manchester went smooth.  We landed in rain and Hannah asked why we it was cloudy; it always is, get used to it!  However, in hindsight it was quite good weather considering.  We arrived in Cumbria at my predicted time of 11am.  Gran and Granda met us outside their newly built house.

Iain, in his tired and uncoordinated condition, then proceeded to trip over the threshold of the door.  A few hour later we found ourselves in the Cumberland Infirmary checking out the service.  I have to say, and so will Ellie, that the assistance we received was impeccable and put the supposedly superior American system to shame!  We were in and out of the A&E in 45 minutes.

Caving in the Yorkshire Dales

The Greater Easegill Traverse - July 10th promised to be a clear day with respect to the forecast.  Perfect.  So off onto the Easegill fells we went.  There were five of us in total ready to enter Top Sink and hopefully exit further down the system.  In my mind the Greater Easegill Traverse, Top sink to Pippikin, was fixed firmly in my mind.  Three of the team planned on exiting the system via the easier entrance of Link.  Clear weather suggested that the Wormway and other flood prone areas would be open with little threat of flooding.  Two years ago, when I had last been caving, the weather had not allowed such an adventure.  On that day, water thundered down the 88 foot pitch like an angry cataract of boiling fury.  Since then, in my mind’s eye, I had dreamt of the assault on the Easegill Traverse.  Today, with a clear forecast, was to be very different than two years ago.

We reached Top Sink under clear skies and entered the system under the impression that the pitches would be rigged.  They had been a few months earlier when two of the team had been in the system.  The rope we found at the first pitch ended half way down.  A few exclamatory remarks were heard, but the ever resourceful Simon attached our rope to the one in situ and the game was on.

I have warm memories of exploring the ramifications of Easegill and the boulder clambering.  This day was no different from any other in the 90s when the majority of my caving career occurred.  We made easy progress through the upper levels of the system passing Cornes and Monster Caverns.  The eerie silence in these older passages has always made me feel humble.  The deadened silence always makes me respect the early pioneers who pushed onward in this system, many of who have now gone on to the greater things.  The Minarets, with the long destroyed Angel’s Wing, how much progress have we made toward conserving the uniqueness of caves.  We reached the entrance to the Stake Pot Series and began making our way toward the 88.  On this day the 88 was almost dry in nature.  Even the stream through the Wormway was almost dry.  Today was a good day, but we progressed rapidly eventually finding ourselves on our hands and knees for the last section.  The Wormway is an ominous place.  You feel much like you are in a drain (which, in reality, you are).  Receding water lines are etched into the mud banks.  Finding yourself at the bottom of Echo Aven lifts the worry of what the weather may be doing on the surface.

Up Echo Aven we went with an exit off the pitch that is a little tricky.  A couple of wriggly flat out crawls exit you abruptly into Hilton Hall.  Finally, after 19 years of caving, I have traversed from one side of Easegill to the other.  It feels good.  Happy, I know have choices.  The rope down Link Pot sits next to me.  A pint in the Marton Arms could only be an hour away.  Simon asks, “What do you want to do?”  “Go on,” I say.  Eric, Arthur, and Rick exit the system if not for a few complications.  Eric, it seems, has spend too much time in open water where constrictions are few and a portly frame has few issues.  The top of the entrance pitch in Link holds onto him briefly, giving him a squeeze, letting him know it was good to see him underground again.

Simon and I head off through a crack in the wall and soon find ourselves in the Wallows.  A water passage best navigated on one’s back, head first, with your helmet pushed out in front.  Simon goes through easily; the body sized tube seems to hold me tight, cold water runs down the neck of my oversuit.  I get through and feel the thrill of caving again, for the second time in a day I am in passages that eluded me all those years ago.  The Muddy Wallows are sloppy; why is this cave such a muddy, goopy place?  At last we exit into Dusty Junction.  The Mistral and its mined entrance offer yet another escape before last orders.  Simon again offered me an out.  I decided that after 8 hours I really should give Pippikin a look.  I was tired, but could I make it all the way and do the trip pure as I had read in very old Descent issue?  Did I have the energy?

Pippikin Pot had always been one of those caves that I shied away from even at my caving peak.  Tight caves and a bigger bone structure don’t seem to go well together.  Having spent sometime “snagged” in the entrance to Stran’s Gill (ironically after passing the tight bit); I tend to be cautious around tight caves that may try to ensnare me.  To cut a long tale short, I did reach the Stemple Pitch and did look into the squeeze at the top of the pitch.  Simon looked back at me through the squeeze and gave me encouragement.  He’s a good guy, a good friend, always willing to entertain my whims.  But by this time I was out of energy, beaten down by nine plus hours of caving.  If I did get into trouble in the maneuver, I would be in trouble.  Flexibility is not on my side anymore.  With tighter squeezes above I realized that the cave had won… or did my choice to exit through Mistral only create a win-win situation?  I was disappointed in myself, but happy that I at least gave it a shot.  Almost, but not quite.

Ireby Fell Cavern through to Jupiter Cavern - A few beers, a little sleep and a chat with old friends opened the day off to a good start.  July 11th continued to hold a good forecast.  Ireby II was the goal.  I’d read about it in dark rooms of my home in Northern Wisconsin using a Petzl Tikka as a light source, hoping for the day that I would look upon the lofty heights of Jupiter Cavern.  We, Simon, Arthur, Rick, Degsy, Iain and myself took the Shadow Route the bottom.  Some fellows from north of the border were laddering the system with replicas of the plank and hemp ladders of yesteryear.  We reached the bottom quickly and made our way up to the Skylight Passage.  What an impressive piece of engineering this is.  Exactly how long is the passage?  My thanks go out to those whose continued efforts made it possible for me to enter Jupiter Cavern.  I wonder where the water comes from.  What more is there to find in the system?

Simpson's Pot - On the night of July 11th it began to rain making the walk back to Stacksteads very wet.  When the morning arrived the rivers were swollen and an easy cave was sought.  Dirty gear needed to be washed off.  Simpson’s Pot seemed to be an ideal cave for the job.  The rain had diminished and the skies were clear.  By now I was weary.  Two long trips in the previous two days had worn me out.  Simpson’s, with its watery pitches is always a lively place, but today the water thundered down the pitches, echoing their energy in their relentless descent.  The duck provided some entertainment.  Did you know that you can block the exit to the pool so that the water level rises dramatically!  Diane, Iain, and Arthur got the brunt of my engineering.  Slit Pot seemed a little tighter than it used to be, but that may just have been lost technique on my part!  The final cascade in the system before entering Philosopher’s Crawl was incredibly damp.  The crawls below weren’t overly full, but the stream in the mastercave was moving quickly.  The force of the water pushing at the back of your legs and trying to make your descent quicker and less controlled than what it should be.  On reaching the downstream sump the water wasn’t as high as what I have seen it in the past.  We exited the cave after only a few hours, gear clean, and my own caving appetite satisfied at least for the moment. ñ

Edinburgh - I don't know what it is about Edinburgh, but it always seems like a beautiful, safe city that is well cared for by its inhabitants.  However, if you say, "Wow, look at that architecture," to people who liver there, they seem to take it for granted.  But in the end, I think I also took the architecture and culture of the Lake District for granted until I left!  We were there for exactly 24 hours in a whirlwind visit with old friends, Claire and Dave, whom I lived with briefly in Preston.  Regardless of our quick visit, we were still able to visit the Edinburgh Zoo and walk the Royal Mile.  We also had a cracking curry with them from an Indian takeaway.  Edinburgh Castle, probably the most prominent landmark in the city, will have to wait until small children can appreciate the history of the place.  Right now, ice cream, stuffed animals, and plastic tat are the only things that REALLY interest them. ñ

London - I've been to Chicago more times than I have been to London.  There are many reasons why that is the case, probably the most important one is the fact that it is just too busy and the throngs of people make my skin crawl.  With that in mind, be aware that driving to London from Cumbria, a distance of 324 miles is considered to be rather insane.  Throw in the fact that the day we drove to London it was raining and it was the first day of the summer holidays for most English schools.  Needless to say, the area around Manchester, Birmingham and London was incredibly busy and congested.  Five English pounds spent on the Birmingham toll road was well spent cash if you ask me.  It took us just over seven hours to make the trip and we were welcomed by the Butler Family.  Once parked, we did not use the car again until we left three days later.  Public transport in London is fantastic and you can get around quite easily without the hassle of a car!

We spent the first night catching up with old friends, reminiscing about the times we had in Rhinelander and on Seven Island Lake, prior to their departure from the Northwoods.  It had been four years since we had last seen them, but it felt like it had only been yesterday.  Ellie calls them "our" friends opposed to the ones that she adopted when she me me.  Hannah and Jessica hit it off together and played so well.  Hannah somehow convinced Jessica to give up her bed during their three night sleep over.  Noah and Iain, both being two, just seemed to occupy the same space without really interacting.

The following morning we headed into London and saw the sights first from the London Eye and then via an open top double-decker bus.  The culture, the history, the people, thousands of them.  I guess having your very own tour guide, an ex-Newfoundlander, who has made a name and home for himself and his family in London made the actual tour part pretty much stress free.  We saw St. Paul's Cathedral, Big Ben (which is actually the name of the bell, not the structure), the Houses of Parliament, Tower Bridge,  the Tower of London, Trafalgar Square, Drake's Golden Hinde, and Buckingham Palace (where Iain decided to pee down the back of my legs!).  So my view of London has changed somewhat as a result of this trip... good job Butlers, but that doesn't mean that I will be coming back in the immediate future.  The next time I go to London it will be on a train... forget the driving down there part.  By the time we left I was as relaxed as anyone could be under after having spend a couple of days in London.  The drive out of London was nothing like the drive in.  Much easier, less traffic, and there were a few sections on the way north to Chester that were quite pretty. ñ

Chester - Chester, the home of the Holland Family, is one of my favorite places outside Cumbria.  It's probably because as a family, we used to stay at the racecourse, on what seemed (at least in my memory) to be a frequent occurrence. Either way, it is a city packed with Roman history and always offers plenty of attraction.  While there, we visited the Blue Planet aquarium in the nearby town of Ellesmere Port.  We were supposed to take a two hour road trip along the North Wales coast to a little seaside village and a strategically positioned pub, but the weather was pretty unpredictable.  It will still be there when we return in three years.  Instead, we hung around Chester, enjoying a walk along the Dee River to the Grosvenor Arms for a pub supper.  We were also able to enjoy celebrating Iain and Emma's birthdays.  The hospitality of the Holland Family (especially Joe who gave up his room) is always appreciated.  Two days was definitely too short though.  We had only arrived and then it seemed like we were leaving! ñ

Cumbria and all the little adventures - I am biased, I know, but Cumbria is one of the most beautiful places on Earth.  Mountains, history, castles, tiny mountain and seaside villages, bustling towns and good people (well, apart from that bloke who decided that driving fast on skinny roads was a good idea).  On one of the first days we took a trip to Carlisle Castle with my parents.  For Hannah, this was probably one of the highlights of the trip.  She was hoping to see a princess, after all, that's what Hollywood portrays castles to have.  Instead, she basically saw the dungeons, where Jacobites were imprisoned before being horrifically executed and the history of a castle that has been modified throughout the ages. ñ

We also attempted to walk up to Sprinkling and Styhead Tarns, but the Borrowdale weather prevailed and caused us to get a little damp.  It seemed like a mistake to go on higher into the mountains seeing as Iain was riding in the backpack and could not easily regulate his temperature.  The mountains will still be there in a few years when hopefully both kids will be using their own two feet to make progress forward and upward.  Borrowdale is a beautiful place to walk in.  Always so lush and full of the wildness of mountainous places.

We also took some time to visit Caldbeck and the Howk.  By this point I realized that what I was doing on this trip was revisiting some of the places that had imprinted themselves on my memory.  The walk to the Howk was pleasant and enjoyed by all.  Although, as I remember it, Health and Safety hadn't placed all those bars and restrictions on the drops around the old mill back when I frequented this area as a kid.  As for the ducks on Caldbeck's pond... they're just hamming it up for the tourists.

One of the finest days we experienced in Cumbria happened on a group of mountains that had previously washed Ellie and myself off in 2002.  Both Hindscarth and Robinson in the Newlands area of the Lake District offer, at least in my opinion, some of the nicest view in all Cumbria.  So it was that Gran and Granda took care of Hannah and Iain while Beany, Ellie, and myself headed for the hills.  I suppose that times like the ones we had on those mountains affirm old friendships and create memories that last a lifetime.  That's the way it was on that day, high on Robinson and Hindscarth, with brilliant sunshine and an almost empty mountain... who says the Lakes are overcrowded!

A few days later, we found ourselves heading back to the United States.  Short of Iain dislocating his own shoulder while pulling money out of his own pocket, the return home was uneventful, but long.  It was good to be home and good to have experienced three great weeks in the UK. ñ

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