Longwood.

Readers will, no doubt, have read in the national press that
another fatal accident had occurred in a Mendip cave.  This time in Longwood, where a member of a
Bristol College of Technology party, Miss Heather Muirhead, died at the bottom
of the entrance pitch in flood conditions. This sad occasion once more highlights the effects of sudden and
abnormal weather conditions.  The plan to
bring the Cuthbert’s water under control is now well advanced and we as a club
would do well to intensify our efforts to complete this job and thus remove any
similar danger from our own doorstep. This is possibly the best way we can help M.R.O. and Mendip caving as a
whole.

Publication.

Once again, the B.B. is being published late in the month,
again owing to a shortage of material. We realise that, in spite of the effort made recently to find out what
members wanted to read about, the B.B. is not making the grade.  Lack of caving due to the weather may be
partly to blame, but apart from this, the remedy is in YOUR hands.

Apology.

Apologies are due to the Axbridge Caving Club &
Archaeological society for the statement in the Christmas B.B. that the B.B.
was the only monthly caving magazine on Mendip. The Axbridge monthly News letter also shares this distinction.

Club News – A Monthly Review of Club Activities

Caving Meets 1963.

The second Caving Meet – a tour round Redcliffe Caves in

Bristol
, was rather
disappointing.  A very large number of
members and friends attended, but we were all put in our place very soon by the
guide who told us that this was not a caving trip!  Unfortunately, we were only shown over about
half the area of caves that is accessible without going through the second
doorway – about a third of the area previously mapped by club members.  The guide, incidentally, seemed to view the
copy of the survey produced during the trip with some doubt as to its accuracy
and usefulness, and proceeded to enliven what would otherwise have been a
boring trip with some “facts” about the caves.  The first fact, he explained, was that nobody
knew how old the caves were.  He then
came out with the remark which still has us baffled that the caves were ‘built
by hand but nothing was dug out’ – a remarkable achievement.  We later learned that no one knows how the
air gets into the caves.  The door
through which we entered is presumably ruled out for some reason.  Possibly the air has hot obtained the
permission of the City Engineer’s Department to enter by this means!  In spite of the frustration however, the trip
was an interesting, if short, re-acquaintance of the B.E.C. and

Redcliffe
Caves
.

The next on the list of ‘official’ meets is one to Fairy
Cave Quarry on Sunday, 28th April.  The
meeting time has now been altered to 1200 hrs at the Belfry.

After this, a trip to Agen Allwedd is planned for the
weekend 24-26 May, and the Meet will be held in the Crickhowell area.  It is hoped to take several parties into
‘Aggy Aggy’ with members of the Chelsea Speleological Society acting as
guides.  Will the interested members
contact the caving secretary as soon as possible and in any event, not less
than three weeks before the date of the trip, in order that ‘blood chits’ can
be sent in.  Any people requiring
transport, or with space for passengers in their own transport please inform
the caving sec.  More details in the
April B.B.

Skiing ’63

Although not wishing to be quoted as saying so, it does
appear that the snow has gone.  What has
been variously described as the worst winter since 1740 or the coldest since
1823 has also proved to be a considerable trial to the mountaineers amongst
us.  Weekend after weekend we’ve had to
go to suitable slopes and ski.  Weekend
after weekend we’ve discovered that the local ski runs were still with us and
have been obliged to go out, often in conditions of bright sunshine, and spend
whole days dragging our weary selves and skis to the top of slopes, only to
slide down again.

The result of this excessivity has been to polish the
competence of those who could ski and provide an opportunity to learn to
others.  It can be claimed, I think, that
“Mo” Marriott, John Eatough and I have learned to slide and turn with
some degree of certainty, certainly enough to be able to enjoy a good downhill
run, while at the other extreme, the Bennetts and Attwoods have had enough
concentrated practice to take any combination of snow and slope with
vigour.  Regulars at the various sites
have been Tony Dunn indoctrinating his daughter and Audrey Attwood snatching
runs-in between rescuing young Simon from a conviction that snow equals sand.

Even among this small company, every opportunity has been
seized to further the downhill versus ski-mountaineering controversy with the
exponents of each about equally divided. The argument was never resolved, and we hope never will be but it was
interesting to the last weekend of perfect snow that the down pull hitches were
fully exploited and to hell with broken legs. Incidentally, the only casualty recorded was Dave Radmore who sprained a
knee on Pat Ifold’s home made skis.  A
downhill accident.

The most useful ski runs to come to light were at Burrington
(Sheet 165 488580) at Swainswich (Sheet 156 753695) below the garage and at
Lansdown (Sheet 156 722705).  There were
several other runs (including one in my back garden) but the ones given above
proved the most consistent.  The
Burrington course had a suit suitable nursery slope while on one weekend at
least, a, cross-country course was enjoyed on top.  This particular site (I’m afraid it was the
weekend of the Lamb Leer Meet) saw an impromptu ski meet of at least a dozen
B.E.C, members.  The Eatough stop was
demonstrated at this meet, I remember.  A
sort of slow, graceful, vee movement of the planks culminating in a pushing of
the face in the snow.  Charming.

About this time Marriott reported good snow at Swainswick
and it is here, perhaps, that the best local runs will be found in future.  Very conveniently situated next to the road
is a varied slope dipping for about 250 feet. The slope is wide and dotted with trees making a most interesting
run.  The whole valley in fact has
possibilities.  It is one of the few
places, where, within seconds of leaving a road, you can have a skiing accident
cheaply.

Lansdown for skiing was discovered at the end of the
season.  We had decided that, now our
favourite spots were bare of snow, we would look around.  We came across a first class undulating field
with snow in perfect condition.  The club
got what may be its best runs for 1963 on this when Attwood avoided a Monday
morning feeling by skiing instead.

R.S. King.

*****************************************

A very well attended lecture at the Museum Lecture theatre
was given by John Eatough on Wednesday, March 20th.  A reasonably large section of the audience
were found to be wearing the right tie, and forgathered in the Museum after the
lecture for coffee.  Apart from a spot of
bad work on the projector in the early stages, when the general level of
illumination was somewhat low, John’s slides came out extremely well on the
mammoth screen.  The talk went down very
well with the public and the questions were varied at “question time”
after the lecture.  A point for other
lecturers to note – John was completely audible in the large; hall with no
amplification system.

Thoughts of a Claustrophobic Mum.

We are particularly pleased to print the following poem, as
we think it is a completely new departure in opening up a new source of
contributors to the B.B.!  It has been
sent to us by the mother of one of our younger members, and is entitled

Can someone’ PLEASE explain to me
The ‘joys’ of speleology?
Where is the pleasure to be found
In crawling, mole like, underground?
Better far see flowers bloom
Than burrow midst the stygian gloom.

When sun is shining, blue the sky,
And sweet the lark sings up on high,
What is the dark compelling urge
That in these cavers bosoms surge
Which takes them groping, slipping, sliding,
To where nocturnal bats are hiding?

Lit only by a tiny lamp
Into the earth, grave like and damp,
Amid the mud, through hidden stream,
Without, the daylight’s heartening gleam,
Entombed in deep-red Mendip clay.
They scorn God’s precious gift of day.

Exploring the dark Orpheus state
To deepest cavern, where may wait
The soul of Palaeolithic man
Dead scion of cave-dwelling clan,
Inhabitants of constant night
Eyes catlike, un-attuned to light.

And in the end, what have they gained?
When, muscles aching, sinews strained,
Emerges the weird troglodyte
Blinking owl-like in the light
To live again, as normal men
That curious, earthbound denizen.

For mothers yet, the aftermath.
Mud clogged sink and dirt rimmed bath.
Rucksack and helmet in the hall
And Mendip dirt thick over all
But calm for a while, the worry past,
Our caving son’s safe home at last!

K.H.

P.S. Will some troglodyte take up the challenge and write a
poem extolling the virtues of his pastime?

Well, how about it, blokes?     (Ed.)

Personal

Congratulations to Brian (“Prew”) and Brenda
Prewer on the birth of their son, Steven. Also to Ron (“Kangy”) and Ann King on the birth of their son,
Jonathan.

*****************************************

Have you paid your sub yet?        You HAVE?  Then it can’t be you we’re knocking at!

On the Hill

(or T.W.T.M.T.W.)

Another of the regular ‘features’
suggested in the Christmas B.B. starts this month.  We hope that this survey of what is going on
Mendip will contain a good proportion of caving news and-keep members up to
date on what is going on….

Reading club journals the other day, I came across an
article on page 156 of the Wessex Journal which suggests that a suicide cult
has developed on Mendip – abseiling. Unfortunately, the writer could not know what was to be actually printed
since, on page 161, a further article appeared extolling the virtues of
abseiling.  It seems that the practice is
to abseil quite longish pitches, which, if one can trust the rope, seems quite
a fair idea, but to me leaves one major question unanswered.  How the hell do you get back up?  If abseiling in caving is to become a general
practice, I think the time has come for me to change my address, conveniently
omitting to tell M.R.O.

I hear that some of the Cerberus members made a trip to
Blakes Farm Slocker (U.H.?) in an attempt to re-open and extend same, but have
given up because of water and too much work involved.  However, at their cottage great efforts have
been made and a garden wall knocked down to make a gate for a car park.  Now they needn’t bother with parking meters!

There is a rumour about the

Stoke Lane
area that some fine,
upstanding quarryman is going to blow the top off Bone Chamber.  This is the best by-pass to the sump that I
could think of.  There is obviously an
opening for this chap to deal with some other Mendip caves.  A counter rumour is that the quarry is up for
sale.  Apply Treasure, Stoke Lane.

Chelsea Speleos are still going great guns in
South Wales, braving snowdrifts on the tram road to get
to their Sunday school, and underground in Aggy Aggy, braving the rigours of
what now appears an excessively long trip to find and explore ever more and
more passage.  They’re certainly doing a
grand job.

The Charterhouse Caving Committee also seem to be doing
their best to ensure that access is maintained to caves in their area.  I hear that they are trying to produce the
be-all and end-all of blood chits.  A
very difficult task, and surely, even when accomplished, no more legal than any
other?

Border Caving Group are beginning to appear on
Eastern Mendip nowadays. These lads from the
Aldershot area are
at Cerberus Cottage, affiliated I gather. Maybe they will come up with something new in that area.  Someone should.

The Shepton brood are still alive, rather involved in
electro survey equipment but I’m sure willing to entertain guests with suitable
T.  Of other clubs, very little has been
heard this month.  Axbridge is doing a
bit of digging in odd places; M.C.G. and the Marquess have gone very quiet and
so have the

University of
Bristol Splinter
groups.

There are some unusual happenings in the B.E.C.  Someone went caving?  An editor was plainly heard to shout out
loud, “I’m not writing the entire ruddy thing!” and someone was seen
in the Belfry marking exam papers!

With the advance of the year into spring, the usual queue of
weegees should re-appear at Maines Barn. I shall be pleased to be able once-more to get to the Hunters and enjoy
the fine choral masterpieces, though even this seems to be one of Mendip’s dying
arts.

“Stalagmite”