Thrown in at the Deep End: My First Time in Long Churn

When your son tells you he’s taking you on a “gentle introduction to caving”, you imagine something along the lines of a casual wander underground, perhaps a bit of scrambling, nothing too dramatic. What I didn’t expect was to find myself soaked to the bone and laughing like a maniac at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Welcome to Long Churn.

My son George is an enthusiastic caver. He talks about potholes and pitches the way most people talk about pub lunches—fondly and often. Over time, I’d listened with interest (and the occasional raised eyebrow) as he recounted tales of subterranean escapades, tight squeezes, icy pools and the peculiar joy of crawling around in the dark. I never quite got it. Not really. But then came the offer: “Come with me. Just once. You’ll love it.”

Reader, I think I was set up!

Long Churn is, I now understand, a classic beginner’s trip in the Yorkshire Dales. Classic, however, doesn’t mean easy. Within minutes of stepping into the cave, I was hit by a cold, wet reality—this wasn’t going to be a sunny stroll I’d planned. Slipping and sliding, ducking through passages. I began to wonder what I’d signed up for. And then something shifted.

Somewhere between clambering darkness, the mesmerising water fall and the wonder of finding a fish in the pool I began to see what George sees. The silence. The timelessness. The otherworldliness of it all. It’s a different realm down there—peaceful, challenging, humbling.

I wasn’t alone, of course. Alongside George was a brilliant little team: Paulina, Bartek and Roo—cavers through and through, each one endlessly patient, encouraging, and cheerful. Their camaraderie and love for the underground world were infectious. They never made me feel like the novice I so clearly was. Thanks to them, and to George, I wasn’t just surviving the experience—I was enjoying it.

By the time we emerged into the daylight, something had changed in me. I wasn’t just proud of getting through it—I wanted to go back. I got it now. The draw of the dark, the call of the unknown, the thrill of pushing yourself just that little bit further.

To Paulina, Bartek, Roo, and my lovely son George: thank you. I suspect you knew exactly what you were doing when you invited me. I’m glad you did.

Trip Report: Lorelle Tolley
Photos: George Tolley
Cavers: Paulina, Bartek, Roo, George & Lorelle