161 - France

Mon 27 Jul 1992

Tony (the hard caver) had been down a few days before to rig this, the most superior of pushing fronts. Sat in the entrance waiting until our bodies had cooled to a temperature that would allow the brains' thought channels to open. At this point Tony's brain (not unexpectedly) told him caving was shit (a true fact) but we continued. Beautiful wizzy pitch. Then at the bottom of Roll of the Dice 'BELOW' I tensed and waited for the clack to come. Nothing happened. Began to relax. Wack, Oh no I am falling should not have let go of the rope. Why is my stop not working. Ah let go of the handle. 'STOP' thats better, bollocks, who put that wall there. Ouch ! Zip. Next thing I know I am at the top of the next pitch been ill again. Never mind lets continue. At last, the pushing front. Wander up and down, traverse across, Tony has a go. Time to rig the Crash, Oh no no again I'm falling. Where has that 6ft by 1ft shelf I was standing on gone. Went down Toothless, put one bolt in using 3 spits, got psyched so left.