CUCC Expeditions to Austria: 1976 - 2024

26th - 28th

Turning up at expo on the night of The Dinner, I had expected a few days of festering, fettling, and carrying, but found myself agreeing to a 4 day camp with Nat D after he spotted me inspecting the Balcony map.

The next day we faffed and faffed some more, then set off well after noon in Sarah's car. The day was hot. I soaked myself in the waterfall to start the walk,carrying all of my camping and caving kit with trepidation. I loudly announced to the group that heat gives me diarrhoea- already feeling quite unsettled in the tummy. My previous walks in 2022 had left me dreading the length of the plateau walk. Fortunately the dread made the reality feel shorter than remembered. A breeze kept us cool as me Nat Sarah and Zak slowly trundled to top camp, nattering with Nat about all sorts of gossip.

We faffed some more at top camp, waiting for Jacob and Lara to join us from garlic camp, and I sat on the gryke hoping to shit as much as possible pre cave.

We set off for balcony in the early evening, and struggled under the heavy loads. We split into 2 teams: Nat Lara and I, Zac Jacob and Sarah (SEE ZAC'S REPORT OF HIS TRIP - FEATURING HAND JAMMERS AT HIGH VELOCITY). I said farewell to the light and was VERY happy to find the big balcony pitch rope thinner than 2022's - the Stop cramp only had to be relived every 40 seconds!

Then began the wiggling, sliding, slipping, and thrutching, descending and changing, clipping and crawling.

I had a mixed relationship with my 2 tackle bags, which I named The Toddler (small red) and The Teeneger (Becka's massive bag that matched my oversuit and apparently looked just like me - CAN I ADD A PICTURE HERE?). We had many disagreements in the crawls, and they enjoyed resting upsidedown on every ledge. NAt's 'purple juice' (meths) was resting at the very top of the teenager, and I've no idea what miracle kept it flying out onto Lara below. It defied gravity until it finally slipped out at rest at the very bottom of Mongol Rally.

We reached the camp sometime around midnight. I was shattered and provided very little help to Nat's attempt to bolt in 2 hammocks. The wind steamed down the passage and stole any remaining heat. By the time the other 3 turned up I was shivering strongly.

Then the first 'accident' was discovered. I had been putting off my urgent need for a poo for all evening. We looked around for the poo drum... kept looking... kept looking. And no one had it. We looked at our supplies. Resealable freezdried meal bags: perfect for shitting in. Porridge sashes: sort of papery. Deciding they made a decent 'glove' for wiping, we emptied all the porridge bags. Only after walking 10m up the passage did I discover the pile of biobags left there! Still the porridge sashes were required. I would not review them highly: more plastic than paper, but desperate times....

I woke in the night even more uncomforatble than before, with a feeling of dread. I visited the 'toilet' and found blood every where. O dear. I hadn't been due my period for 2 weeks but life has its ways of punishing you. Explains how awful I felt the day before, and then. 4am wasn't the time to deal with this fact, so I returned to me sleeping bag, shattered, and restless for everyone to get up.

Get up they did, and I brought up my inconvenient fact. I felt mixed feelings to learn that Nat, Sarah and the first aid kit had a handful of tampons between them. I had never used a tampon. I did not think I would learn to use them in a grubby cold cave 100s of meters under ground. It did not go very well.

Feeling exhausted, sick, pained and cramping, I dragged myself through the day. I followed Nat and Lara to push an A lead in the north of Southern Pitstop (SEE ZAC'S REPORT FOR THE OTHER TEAM'S DAY OF PUSHING). My attempt to do my bit was far more of a burden than a help, and I had tampon related disasters through the day, as well as the dreaded period poos, greatly exceeding the quota of 1.5 porridge sashes a day.

I did however bolt properly for the first time. I should probably have said no when Nat asked me to bolt a descent but I said alright. I suspended awkwardly over a large drop, struggling to find the arm strength to hold the drill out and install 3 bolts. I'm sure the others were very cold by the time I got to the bottom but it was, at least, a good learning experience.

I got changed for a piss by the waterfall - this would come back to haunt me later, then we ascended up the other side.

More slipping an thrutching. I was ready to turn around, but held on to the pushing front. We had some noddles and began to survey.

Despite sometimes hating caving, I do in fact love surveying. Although I probably failed to give the impression that day, I was very happy to take part in the surveying of 'Tampon turnaround' - aptly named for events there - with the honour of painting the red splodges. We turned an A lead into lots of Bs and Cs, but it kept going. I was very very close to my limit, and kept saying I would head back soon. After point 23 I pushed ahead a little bit, and a little bit more, and found the high passage narrowing to a puddle, and over the puddle to a toddler sized crawl. This final push ripped my PVC oversuit :,( and I was definitely beyond my limit, and decided to head out.

A rest at the snake stop, then I plodded back, struggling up the slopes under the weight of the drill. It crossed my mind that I normally find it hard to move with my stop on my D ring. I looked down. My stop was not on my D ring. Ah shit.

I trudged back to the snack stop - no sign yet of Lara and Nat, looked through all the bags. No stop. I headed back through the rifts, up the slopes. No stop. I looked again through the drill bag. No stop.

Ah well. Strongly suspecting (hoping) what had happened, there was nothing for it but to head to the rope and down prussick. Down prussicking was NOT fun. The rope was thick with mud, and every movement took an age to free my jammers. I had a small private cry halfway, for my period pain, but made it down. There was my stop, thanks be, at the point I had changed earlier.

Onwards, up the rope: stand, yank through the chest ascender, sit, repeat, with jammers refusing to grip. By this point Nat and Lara had caught up, so I waited and incredibly kindly they offered to take my bag.

I headed on as they derigged. This was my next mistake. 'Don't get lost' Nat said. I got lost. After the white aven there were many ways on. I follwed the muddy footsteps across and up, but grew suspicous. I decided it was safest to turn around. I turned around but did not find myslef back at the white aven. Two more tries and I was at a slope that looked familiar, so I headed up and reached two ways. I followed the muddy footsteps up, but grew suspicous. On your own it is very hard to trust yourself. I turned around, shattered, concerned. And, thank goodness, met Lara and Nat. I took back a tackle bag and we headed up the other junction, which we soon realised was wrong and returned up my way. Trudge, sigh, plod.

We reached the camp. The others were there already. Dinner. Jacob kindly said that, if no one else was willing, he would be happy to go out with me a day early. I was so grateful as there was no way I could stay longer. Shivering. Bed. (waking for toilet visits :,( )

Rising at 9:40, the plan was revised: Zac would also leave too, using a microtraction as a jammer (having lost both hand jammer and pantin). Porridge. Noodles. Packing. Washing our gear in the muddy puddle. We headed off. I somehow managed to get lost finding the bottom of mongol rally, but eventually did. I heard zac calling from above, in pain. It took an age to dig out the ibruprofen, and I was shocked how slow I could prussick. It was misreable. Pantin uterly useless. Rope refusing to feed. Stand. Drag thtough chest asecnder. Sit. Ascenders slip. Ascenders grip. Repeat. I haven't prussicked this slowly since my first time. My tackle bag tangled itself in the down rope at a rebelay and I had to down prussick, to some strong words. A shocking anount of time later I reached zac on his ledge and got him the ibruprofen. And he taught me how to properly frog, and drag the rope through with your feet. I'm an idiot for never having learnt to do that before. Mongol Rally was slighlty improved.

We headed up, and up, and up, and finally huddled in the bivvy at the top. Hangman's was impressive (and cold). Honeycomb was much longer than I remember. Debating the way, succesfully, I was rather shocked to realise we were at the junction with hilti a plenti. I hadn't thought to imagine reaching the end.

Sarah's weather report had predicted a thunder storm that evening. We were fully prepared to huddle at the bottom of the entrance. But, to happy suprise, the drips were slow. I went last (regretting this offer, and desperately uncomfortable). But I had lot of time to sing as Jacob and Zac ascended. The happiest feeling of all, to see the shadow of light from the penultimate pitch, to haul off the final rope, to crawl out into a blue sky.

The evening was utterly beautiful. The forecast was wrong. Pink light filled the horizon, silhouetting mountains. The evening air still warm. Why would you go underground from this? To appreciate it more I suppose.

I was dizzy trudging back, Jacob kindly, patiently accompanying my stumbling. We reached Stoney Bridge as the light faded and stars brightened. Big Tom and Becka in residence, and Tom a saint making us food. Unbelievably happy to bin the tampon I had been using for far too long (I will never use one again - awful things!) and have some proper toilet paper.

We slept out under the shooting stars and milky way. Every time I woke, relieved, to have escaped balcony, and see brightness in the night's dark, under starlight.