Tony was gutted. Swanning off to warmer climes had meant that he'd missed out on a trip through the Notts II/Lyle connection, one of his favorite places in the world. Needing to make up for it I scoured guidebooks, Descent and the web and settled on a trip down the newly bolted North by North End Pot to visit the Eastern Front.
We parked up by the water utilities shed and trudged up the lane, heading straight on across the moor on a path when the track turns hard left. The description and sketch map made us think we'd bump straight into it but it's actually slightly off the main path to the left and a proper map and compass or a GPS would make it easier find on a first visit in the dark or clag. In our heads we were also looking for a larger shake hole than we actually found - it is a big hole but it's the depth that's significant rather than its area.
The hole is divided in two by a beautifully sculptured wall of spoil, dividing the old entrance from the newer caged one. The mesh lid might be good at keeping sheep out, but as we were to find out, nothing was going to prevent us from carrying out large amounts of clawing mud at the end of our trip.
Descending the first pitches I was in awe of the diggers industry. Board after board of shuttering held in place by metres upon metres of scaffolding bar. So in awe in fact that I completely missed a vertical scaffolding pole and drilled thread that made up a y-hang and continued blissfully down the pitch until the first deviation. I'm going to hang onto the excuse of being so wowed by the digging that I also completely missed the rift leading off the pitch and continued down the blind shaft. Returning a few metres back up, the rift was as clear as day and I moved up into the breakthrough point.
It was now time to start treading as softly as possible. I hitched the tackle sack directly to my harness and began tiptoeing down the rubble slope trying to keep as much weight as I could on the rope. Passing the large funnel I eeked along a ledge that looked temporary at best and approached the main pitch asking Tony to wait until I was down before approaching the pitch head. The echoes of our voices as we neared the pitch gave us the impression we were about to enter a vast space and the pitch didn't disappoint. At the bottom, I scurried along the taped route to get out of the firing line and shouted up to Tony I was safe.
With all of us reunited we descended the last short pitch and began our journey into the Large/Rift/Low Douk system. This time I'm going to use the excuse of being distracted by pristine formations that caused me to miss the left hand branch of the T junction leading to Large, but fortunately our destination lay to the right in the direction I was funneled by the conservation tape.
The taped route soon brought us to a stunning crystal pool. I don't think I've seen such delicate crystals in a UK cave before and I risked Mike and Tony's wrath for a quick picture.