‘Tom, why are you sat in the back of your car?!’

This was the first thing I said when Tom1 and Rostam arrived at my house on possibly the warmest, sunniest day of the year.

‘Rostam why have you got safety goggles on?!’

Then it dawned on me that it twas I who would be driving Toms car to Maskhill that evening! With the Pyrenees excitement building, Tom had put me onto his car insurance to share the driving to the south of France in the following weeks. Jokes about Rostam needing more than some safety goggles to survive the journey to Maskhill were banded about, but with only one stall and Tom being secretly impressed by my driving finesse we kitted up and packed the 200m of rope needed to get to the bottom. (Including the pipe cleaner 50m tiger rope being unwieldy enough to command a WHOLE tacklebag for itself. Uggggh.)

I rigged to the bottom with ney problems, improvising a deviation cord out of a haul cord and had just the right amount of krabs. We poked our heads down to see the nice blue sump pool after I rigged the nice free hanging pitch into waterfall chamber then I started back up the ropes leaving Tom1 and Rostam to de-rig.

Realising that there was 3 tackle bags and only 2 people I waited above the second pitch to relieve Rostam of the 2 tackle bags lovingly dangling between his legs. With much joviality about them being the size of his bollocks and speculation about how big his cock must be, I took the tacklebags up the entrance pitch just in time to see a lovely sunset over the hills to the chorus of ‘cows being raped’ in a nearby field.

Another awesome trip to tick off the list. Why would anyone go down OXLOW when you could spend a bit more effort and time going down MASKHILL which is infinitely more fun (and loose as demonstrated by Rostam knocking a helmet sized rock towards Tom1 below!)

Cracking trip! It was too hot to go climbing anyway…