Local Mine Dig

Date:

30 June 2010

Party:

Big Dave Margot, Ali & Rick

Photos:

In Brief:

A week ago, a plethora of members of both the Tamar Mining Club and the PCG had answered to a call to help out; there was mine exploration in process, and Rick the Tamar Mole had encountered an as yet unpassable shaft, which he wanted to span with a bridge made of scaffolding pipe. And many people answered that call, and helped bringing the scaffolding to an adit. The way to the adit was fresh and clean. Only a few people brought the scaffolding into the adit, which turned out to be a typical Rick dig: an epically muddy place. Should one be surprised that not many people were keen on going back, and putting the scaffolding to use? Even cavers seem to sometimes suffer from a desire to keep some level of hygiene up.

Continued:

Four intrepid explorers gathered where a week ago fourteen people had amassed, and a while later we were back in Elbonia. Uncomfortably we dragged the scaffolding that had been left at the entrance of the adit, and a drill, a rope, and some more stuff through the thigh-deep gloop in the low tunnels. And when all was at the desired location we could set to work.

We started with a thingamajig we could jam into the wall; this would be our safety beam. We had already seen that the wall provided a perfect spot for that. And it would have to do as an anchor; the rock was of appalling quality, and a bolt would easily hold the weight of a few tea bags, but certainly not the weight of any of us. So the drill was only there for the exercise.

 Ali put the wossname into place, and strapped to it we could perform strange, but thus non-perilous antics. And we set out to assemble our makeshift bridge. That was the easy (though fairly time-consuming) bit; making this heavy construction span the shaft would turn out to be the challenge. While Rick and Dave displayed their construction skills, Ali took advantage of the situation by surveying the as yet unsurveyed parts of this mine, with me as an assistant. It's a straightforward exercise, but it can get complicated if your measuring tape and your notebook get covered in a layer of mud. And everything gets covered in a layer of mud in that place.

When we were done surveying we checked on the men, who were done assembling, and had the bridge almost over, using another rope over the whatchamacallit, that provided almost enough leverage. With all our muscles and body weight combined we managed to achieve some almost satisfactory configuration, but the hours had gone by, and by now the pub was beckoning us. Being the lightest of the four of us I had stayed away from the epicentre of activity, but now I had a look, and I decided that that bridge was good enough for me. But first things first! And the first thing now was to get the hell out of here, get out of the muck we mistook for outfits, and make a glorious retreat to a pint of ale. And so we did. I was glad I had some water with me, for the idea is that when I get out of my caving gear what appears is white skin, but this time the dominating colour was dark brown. Luckily, in Chipshop they are used to cavers; the landlady does not even blink if her customers come in looking like, well, they have been taking a several hour mud bath, as we had.

 From behind our pint glasses we made the plan for a follow-up. Two days later we would reassemble; I would have the honour of crossing, and then pull the bridge into a more stable position, after which the men would cross too. I can't wait!

Write up by  Margot

Added 30-06-10