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Written by: Josh

Published: 08 April 2026

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The much-anticipated Q1 caving and poker weekend, three months in the making, had finally arrived. Turnout was strong, with only one late dropout: Josh K, who pulled out with the weak excuse of needing emergency heart surgery. Thankfully, he’s still with us.

The rest of us with fully functioning hearts included: Josh G (myself), Adam L, Ben, Aaron, Adam S, Jack H, Ethan, Jack C and Joe. Nine in total.

Friday night preparation consisted of my homemade 100-slide presentation on the Peak–Speedwell system. This included an in-depth history lesson, some hilarious banter and a breakdown of route options, from the classic round trip to the far sump extensions. In the end, the group voted for a round trip with a detour via Moss Chamber. I also casually mentioned that the constant rain meant there was a slight chance of flooding but it would probably be fine…

Saturday morning, we set off for Castleton. Spirits were high until, at the top of Winnats Pass, I got a call from our keyholder confirming the water level was above the step. For the uninitiated, that’s a key indicator of flood risk. No matter how hard I begged and pleaded over the phone for us to give it a go, the rest of my car, who were getting second-hand embarrassment by this point, eventually helped me realise that my dream of going in Peak Cavern was dead. The rest of the journey to Castleton was filled with them trying to console me. 

After regrouping at the chapel, I reassured everyone I had a solid Plan B: a vertical, tight, muddy hellhole known as Winnats Head Cave. While this did not have the same impressive sights as Peak Cavern, I did mention the possibility of a pool party if we make it to the bottom. 

We suited up, mostly in a questionable mix of second-hand army and construction gear, and made the steep walk up Winnats Pass. By the time we reached the entrance, a small downward crawl, most of us were already exhausted from the trek.

Before

I gave a few last words of advice (as you’re pretty much single file for most of the way), and I headed in first. Within minutes, it was chaos.

I was flat out, headfirst on a steep downwards slope while pushing boulders that blocked the way on. This would be a normal situation in Winnat's Head Cave except there were more rocks cascading down onto my head, dislodged by the other oafs entering the cave like a one-armed juggler with three chainsaws. I tried shouting for them to stop kicking debris down on me, but my large JBL speaker was blasting Arctic Monkeys so loud I couldn’t even hear myself. It was like something out of a Vietnam War montage video.

Further in, the crawl tightened: arms out in front, inching forward. Not ideal for those who had worn wetsuits in anticipation of a wet Peak Cavern trip. They were now, quite literally, being boiled alive.

Eventually, we reached the first chamber, where several people immediately started shedding layers. From there, we moved into the main chamber and began descending the first boulder choke. The group handled the squeezes and scrambles well, and we soon arrived in Fox’s Chamber, one of the highlights of the cave which is (20x10x30m - by my best judgement)

In the Fox Chamber

I reached it first and headed to the far side, watching as a slow procession of headlamps appeared one by one, emerging into the chamber. I also discovered a surprising amount of Blue John and an impressive mud formation, shaped something like a mushroom…

After a short break during which the first-timers marvelled that caving isn’t all tight, muddy suffering, we tackled the second boulder choke. This involved negotiating a few drops, but communication along our single-file line was excellent, and we made it to the final chamber without incident.

The final chamber features a large, deep circular pool. Those of us who were up for it ventured to the end of the “sewer”, a pretty tight, wet crawl which takes a bit of patience and a physical struggle to get through.

Joe H coming through the Sewer

After returning to the pool, we then had a quick swim to clean off. We didn’t linger, the water was, unsurprisingly, freezing so we decided to warm up by heading back out which meant climbing up everything we had descended. 

Underground Pool Party

The exit involved a series of short climbs, almost like boulder problems, but with added claustrophobia. Some sections required a few attempts and good beta being passed back. The toughest obstacle was the “Vertical Vice”: a tight 3m slot where you have to turn your head sideways and rely on a mix of brute force and creative elbow and knee work.

I went first and made it up. Jack H followed, attempting to haul himself up using a small hand rope (despite my advice to the contrary). He quickly exhausted himself, and after a 10-minute battle, got near the top, before giving up and sliding all the way back down, declaring he’d never make it out.

Morale wavered slightly among those waiting below.

So, before his second attempt, we sent a few others up first. Taking a more measured approach, they made it through. On his second go, Jack also succeeded, having remembered he had legs as well as arms.

From there, the exit went relatively smoothly (aside from a brief moment of being lost), and we even had a few sing-alongs to keep spirits high.

Back at the first chamber, just as I was about to head through the entrance crawl, I heard groaning from ahead. Another group was coming in. A head soon appeared through the crawl. Fortunately, we avoided meeting them in the crawl itself which would have been quite the introduction. Instead, both groups gathered in the small chamber, numbering around 15 of us in total.

We exchanged pleasantries and learned they were mostly from TSG. They complimented our t-shirts, which we took as a major win, and then we headed out.

If the entrance crawl felt tiring on the way in, it was far worse on the way out.

Eventually, though, I reached fresh air and climbed out onto the ledge above Winnats Pass. I was greeted by a stunning view over Hope Valley and a perfect sunset. Freedom never felt so good.

One by one, the group emerged, some shouting in relief, followed by embracing one another in victory. We paused for a moment, taking it all in and reflecting on what we’d just done, before jogging back to the TSG hut. 

After that: showers (excellent, by the way) and a well-earned feast at the local pub.

To conclude, the best trips are often the unexpected ones. While Winnats Head lacks the grandeur of Peak Cavern, there’s something about its relentless and thrown in at the deep end nature that made it an unforgettable day out. Those who were unsure before about going underground in tight spaces with 9 men are now eager for the opportunity to do so again, which I have no doubt we will. 

After

 

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Written by: Victoria Kocher

Published: 26 February 2026

Hits: 699

Oil Drum → Climbing Shaft
Katie, Julian, Ade, Pete, Alan, Chris & Victoria 

The Tuesday Nighters assembled in the triangle. With seven of us loitering about, we split into two groups for maximum efficiency.

Before we ventured underground, Katie was  debating: Is it better to face the muddy puddle at the start of the trip, or save it as a special treat for the way out? I cast my vote firmly for “get it over with early,” and thus joined the Oil Drum → Climbing Shaft trio.

Down we went, squeezing and climbing along. After a bit of classic Hillocks stomping we reunited at the bottom, where—because it’s what cavers actually do—we immediately stopped for a chat. And then some exploring. And then more chatting.

We surveyed the sumped bit, admired the connection to Meccano Passage (never again, thank you very much)

Highlight of the night: a surprisingly handsome frog who had somehow made it all the way down. Luckily Katie is basically the Patron Saint of Tiny Underground Creatures. Without hesitation she crafted a safe frog-transit zone, donated one glove to the cause, and chauffeured the little guy out like he’d booked a premium service.

Eventually we all wandered off toward our respective exits. The climbing shaft did not disappoint—still one of my favourites—and with only three of us plus Katie derigging, we made tidy progress and popped out into a rare Peak District  February evening  no rain, visible stars, and even a quarter moon above. Katie popped the frog out of her glove. He had survived unscathed. I let him go in the small copse of trees. We hope he wanted to reach the surface after all.

We surfaced a bit ahead of the other team, changed while waiting for their lights to bob into view, and then—because tradition matters—headed straight for the Bulls Head. Nothing like a pint by the fire to finish off another excellent Tuesday Nighters adventure.

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Written by: Victoria Kocher

Published: 11 February 2026

Hits: 901

Part One of the Tuesday Nighters’ Red Rake adventures went so well that some of us who missed it promptly demanded a rerun. So—because we’re apparently incapable of saying no to wet holes in the Peak District—off we went again.

Seven of us assembled: Edvin, Ade, Jenny, Chris, John, Pete, and myself..

It’s only a short walk to the entrance, which is the kind of beautiful sough that makes you forget you’re about to spend several hours voluntarily wading through cold water. They don’t call it Red Rake for nothing—the stones lit up red under our lamps.

Katie had insisted we could make it a round trip using the boat. Yes, the boat. Naturally, we decided this sounded like an excellent challenge and went for it.

We plunged straight into waist-deep water. This would have been fine, except it’s been raining for approximately forty days and forty nights, so the water temperature was somewhere between “refreshing” and “why are we doing this to ourselves?”

Photos by Ade Pedley

Dripping but determined, we left the water and entered the mine proper. Handlines, climbs, levels—Red Rake had it all. Stemples in the roof hinted at long-lost passages above.

One particular climb required so much precision that “LAF” was mentioned. the message was clear: anyone below should get as far back as possible as the climb was held by a questionable deviation which barely held back the rubble.

Chris, not satisfied with the normal levels, climbed up to some old ladders whose rungs disintegrated faster than a biscuit in tea. This did not deter him in the slightest. He poked around another level simply because gravity hadn’t slowed him down.

While the group was large enough we eventually herded ourselves downward to search for the boat. Chris and Pete detoured down a lower climb into what they claimed was more mine .We assume they would rejoin us in a bit.

Reunited, we finally reached the clear blue water. With some gentle rope-hauling we coaxed the giant inflatable tube towards us and enjoyed a very dignified float across. No one fell in. No one capsized. A triumph.

Back at the entrance, the snow had started falling… although “slush hurled from above” is probably more accurate. We’d explored so thoroughly that there was no time left for pints, which is frankly the most shocking part of the whole story. I’ll be having two next week to compensate.

Brilliant company, brilliant evening—another Tuesday night trip in the bag.