Berger 1985 An alternative View
"Book your transport early", they said. So we did;
months before the trip 10 Bergerers got together and hired a nice new VW
minibus from
Ten people for ten days in
All went well with the journey and we arrived in at Quentin. By now it was getting late, about 3.00am, most people were asleep or at least dozing off. Two navigators and the driver were not quite asleep when the centre of St Quentin loomed in the form of a large roundabout. Brian Workman, the driver, decided to approach it in English fashion and turn left at the roundabout. The first circuit failed to reveal any road sign for Riems. All ten people were now wide awake. "Brian, you're going the wrong way round!" "I know, don't panic, there's no one about and I feel more at home going this way round!" Second time round and still no sign. On the third circuit someone casually observed that we couldn't see the road signs because we were going the wrong way round! Everybody dozed off again.
At breakfast time, a stop was made at Nuit St George, a
pleasant little town, south of
By Saturday evening we had settled into the campsite at La Moliere. Fears of trees smothered in pink (or was it brown) Andrex were soon allayed, in fact, the site was excellent, being very close to the car park and situated right on the edge of a pleasant pine forest. The general appearance of the site was clean and tidy with, a good water supply from the spring on the hill above. This water, in fact, later proved to be pure enough that we eventually stopped worrying about purification and boiling etc. (This, of course, may not be the case every year).
By Sunday, most of the expedition members had arrived by various means of transport, including bus in the case of Jerry Crick and bicycle for Jim Smart. Sunday also saw the start of tackling, with the first party getting as far as the top of Aldo's shaft. The telephone line was also checked and found to be somewhat poor. Radio communications from the campsite to the entrance of the cave were successfully established with the aid of VHF radios, Ric Halliwell's car battery and an aerial stuck together with adhesive tape on the roof of our frame tent. The radio sets, for future reference, were not CB but operated somewhere in the high VHF band, possibly around 150MHz. Communications, despite the profusion of trees between the campsite and the cave entrance, were extremely good, good enough in fact to allow reliable all night listening, and for me to be woken up in the middle of one night to be told that Bob Lewis had at last come out of the cave suffering from mild hypothermia.
On Monday, another tackling party went in and reached Camp 1, the telephone improvement party were unable, at that stage, to sort out the jumble of wires they found just beyond the Meanders at the Boudoir. From now on, trips were made with great regularity with the telephone greatly improved due to the sterling efforts of Brian Workman and Dave Turner. Camp 1 was now coming through loud and clear.
It was during the next few days that many people reached the bottom of the Berger and many others, like myself, came to realise their limitations. However, no doubt there will be many a tale told over a Hunter's pint during the next few years and I'm sure many people will want to go back again one day.
Along with the caving activities, many people decided to explore the Vercors area. Obviously high on the priority list was a good village for shopping. Autrans turned out to be the best bet, with a small supermarket and a campsite where hot showers could be obtained for a small fee. A reasonable restaurant, the "Auberge of the two Wallies" (Vallees), was situated on the road to Lans en Vercors quite close to the Berger campsite. It was here that one of the group nearly came to grief. After a heavy evenings drinking session a certain young lady managed to "manoeuvre" her car onto the wall of the Auberge car park. J Rat nearly got run over during the retrieval proceedings. The journey back up the winding road to the campsite must have been quite exciting.
Over the next few days, sightseeing parties made forays into
Vercors. A visit was made to the Gorge
de la Bourne and the Routes de Econges as well as to the Grottes de Choranche
and Bournillon. The Bourne Gorge is a must
for anyone going to that area; it is a magnificent limestone gorge with cliffs
rising thousands of feet above the gorge floor. The road, sometimes perched on narrow ledges hundreds of feet, up or cut
through tunnels, winds splendidly downwards passing the great valley leading to
the entrance of the Grotte be Bournillon. This amazing cave entrance, reputed to be the largest in
A visit to the Grottes de Choranche is well worthwhile for any caver in the area. Next door, the Gournier with its entrance lake and climb is a must. Turning out of the Bourne Gorge at La Balme de Rencurel, the Route de Econges is fascinating. With the road here and there cut into the cliff face with little viewing windows giving superb views of the valley, hundreds of feet below. It was here, during the Second World War, that eleven of the French Resistance held a whole army of Germans at bay many days. They all perished in the end, and a plaque on the side commemorates the spot.
Swimming facilities in the Bourne Gorge are good and several
pleasant 'dips' were taken in natural pools in the river bed. After such a swim, the minibus party
descended on a small but recommended restaurant at La Balme de Rencurel. The decor was somewhat primitive but an
excellent umpteen course meal was had at no more than about £5. The locals in the restaurant were somewhat
bemused by ten dishevelled English visitors. At first, they thought we were being a bit disrespectful and a few
sidelong glances were noticed. However,
after we had noted that the locals helped clear the tables and assisted in the
kitchen we joined in and the atmosphere completely changed to the extent that
when Brian Workman showed his delight at being given a large bowl of
raspberries, the waitress gathered up all the uneaten raspberries from all the
other tables and dumped them straight onto his plate. Brian, for the first time, was
speechless. Several 'Franglais'
conversations were started up with the locals as more 'vin rouge ordinaire' was
consumed, with one local insisting that her grandmother had been English and
came from Borne-a-mooter. We later realised she meant
The caving activities had reached their peak and by now
someone had realised that he didnt like SRT anyway. Lisa Taylor had strained her ankle and Geoff
Price of the
On Saturday, the minibus team regrettably had to pack up in
order to be at
We arrived home at Sunday lunchtime in pouring rain to a Swildons rescue. Brian Workman, Dave Turner and myself being dragged out only 10 minutes after arriving home. But still, we did manage to escape the hail and snow at the Berger on the Monday and Tuesday.
Finally, note: - if anyone wishes to take a hired minibus onto the continent, then contact Brian Workman. He is now the world's expert.
Brian Prewer