Grotte de la Diau 2001
Report by Jase Rider and Dunka

Everyone was eager for an early start and we were ready to leave the motel by about 7.00am, having driven down to Calais the previous evening. Taking Autoroutes A26, A5, A31, passing cities Reims, Troyes and Dijon we were kept entertained with tunes by the likes of Neil Young, Fleetwood Mac and, unfortunately, Jethro Tull. Taking the ‘short cut’ on the N508 over the hills to Annecy proved a bit of a bad decision as we got stuck for ages behind what can only be described as a corrugated iron shed on wheels! (even when we did finally get passed it, a mix up over when we needed to stop for diesel led to us foolishly pulling into a layby only for the shed on wheels to overtake us again. Doh!)

We arrived on the outskirts of Annecy, mid-afternoon and spent an hour stocking up on beer and cheese at the local hypermarket. Another hour was spent queuing up for diesel behind people who had never used a petrol pump before and another hour was spent negotiating the rush hour Annecy traffic! We finally arrived in Thorens-Glières, late afternoon. Dunca, Nigel and Steve, who had arrived only moments earlier, were by now already sitting outside a local hostelry supping beer in the late afternoon sun and were quickly joined by the other three.

The municipal campsite is a couple minutes walk from the center of the village. Having pitched, a contingent of four decided to go up to the Grotte de la Diau resurgence entrance for a taste of what was to come while Dunca and Nigel volunteered get the bar-be-cue going and make a start on the beer. It’s quite a walk up to the Grotte de la Diau , the humid sticky atmosphere beneath the pines not helping. The cave entrance, situated at the end of the large natural amphitheatre, was breathtaking and the cold draught from the cave a welcome respite from the heat.


Back at camp, the other two had done a good job with the beer, if not the BBQ.

By now word had got around the village that ‘The Eldon’ had arrived and as evening turned to dusk we were duly rewarded with a spectacular firework display! (unless, of course, they were part of the Bastille day celebrations - Ed) After a few more beers and bottles of wine we decided it was time to hit the town...

Thorens-Glières has a handful of bars, the liveliest of which (I forgot the name of) is situated on the corner of the main square. Anyway, it became our home for the next three evenings and we seemed to get on okay with the locals (who, incidently, thought we were mad). After a couple of hours boozing and chatting we decided to call it a night - we had a big day the following day and we didn’t want to over do it - the intention was there at least. Needless to say, we were to be thwarted. Walking back to the campsite takes you past the Village Hall and we couldn’t help notice that there was some sort of do on, the flashing lights and loud music all but giving it away. Village Hall discos are much the same the world over and this one was to be no exception.

Having gatecrashed the party and made a big impression on the bar it wasn’t long before at least three of the drunken six were beginning to make a big impression on the dance floor too! A special mention must go to Nigel for particularly impressing the locals with his own unorthodox dance style!

My memories of this night have become somewhat blurred and distant, however one memorable moment was when Jase, getting on very well with one particular young lady, was accosted by her angry father who told the drunkard to leave his daughter alone - and dance with his wife instead!

Saturday 14/07/2001
The plan for the Saturday was a reconnaissance of the area the aim of which was two-fold. The first aim was to find the entrance to Tanne du Bel Espoir on the limestone Parmelan Plateau, the second was to push the resurgence entrance far enough up so that we could establish that the through trip (planned for the following day) was possible. To accomplish this we split into two groups, Dunca, Nigel and Steve to find the top entrance; Stick, Gaz and Jase to push the Diau.

Parmelan Plateau / Tanne du Bel Espoir - Report by Dunka
The view from the Parmelan plateau was typically alpine, the foothills leading to the snow-capped Mont Blanc in the distance. The weather was perfect, a blue sky with puffy cumulous drifting by. Wordsworth’s famous poetic words came to mind as I sat on the rock admiring the view. Then I finished my fag and my brain instantly decided to re-write those words - I wasn’t wandering lonely as a cloud - I was staggering about, knackered and lost. It all started well enough. Our intrepid team consisted of me - old, past it and unfit, Nigel - old past it and unfit and Steve - young, ready to go and super fit. At least I had years of experience in complex route finding to fall back on.

The idea was to have a quick few hours look into the lower main streamway then sort out the top entrance. The first difficulty in the impressive entrance was to find some water for my carbide before we got too far into the cave for me to see - no problem for the others as they were using new fangled lights with wires and batteries - not the best thing in large French caves. Light sorted, we merrily got confused in the wonderful entrance streamway - the way on is confusingly up fixed ladders of different styles. Further into the cave my years of experience came in good use - instead of walking round the first major waterfall like every other team I led the men round a very dodgy traverse. It’s useful to note that the first part of the streamway is used by novice trips in dry weather so anything slightly difficult is the wrong way.

Quick trip over we returned to the hot French sunshine and drove up to the Auberge on the plateau up the usual dodgy track (company cars advised) to take a quick look at the top entrance for the through trip (Bel Espoir), intent on dumping the gear there so the through trip next day would be quick and easy. The air was cooler up there but the weather was still far better than anything Buxton ever sees.

Surrounded by all the usual ropes and gear dragged out of the car I busily tried to use all my experience to ensure that I carried the least amount of gear. Pointless really as Steve would gladly carry anything - one day he’ll learn. Then Pierre came over and was obviously concerned.
Steve used all his best Leekish to communicate but to no avail. Nigel grunted - still we couldn’t understand Pierre’s ramblings. I just used my best (and only) French to say "parlez vous Anglais". Bingo. Pierre spoke reasonable English. Then it clicked as to why Pierre was ranting as he showed us the weather forecast - big black clouds over the area that night. It transpired that he was a member of the Grenoble spelio club who were responsible for much of the exploration in the area and the last time it rained heavily his mates were caught in a flood part way down while doing the through trip and had to wait several days for rescue.

After much deliberation and putting Nigel’s idea of a night trip down (what, and miss a piss up?) we decided to go to the entrance of Trois Betas, a dry but apparently excellent down/up trip (and supposedly the best way into the lower streamway providing you have long ropes), and leave the tackle there ready for the next day. And so it came to pass that we followed Paz Vale’s out of date route description to the entrance and got lost - we never did find the entrance or find out the right way. Steve’s keenness shone through as he pointed out every limestone plateau and potential cave entrance - and there are lots of them up on the hill. The rain came about 5 o’clock that night - a one hour downpour then nothing. The other team, watching us cook the barbecue in the rain, quickly decided that a restaurant was the best bet. With cries of "that rain won’t have any effect on the cave - Grenoble spelio must be wimps - it might still be on", they left for the delights of the village watering holes.

Then it started to rain again. And it rained. In places there was air between the rain drops. Next morning it was still raining. We didn’t even attempt to search for the Trois Betas in the mountain fog. I was looking across the entrance lake where yesterday I was looking for water. Yes, this cave gets wet in downpours! Water pissing out of crevices where yesterday there were no crevices. Eventually, after much waiting for the water to subside, we managed a quick trip in to a cave unrecognisable from the day before. Our decision not to attempt the pull-through Bel Espoir / Diau trip appears to have been a good decision but the glimpse of this extensive caving area means there will definitely be a trip on in 2002 - give me shout if you’re interested.

Grotte de la Diau
In high spirits we trooped through the enormous entrance chamber and quickly found the obvious way on (later to find out it wasn’t the way on at all!). We soon came to a short pitch that landed in a deep pool. This should have set alarm bells ringing as we were not expecting to have to rig anything, however, Steve and Gaz in their eagerness soon had it rigged and we plunged into the depths below.

A lot of this section of cave consisted of some deep and very cold stretches of water and I was really beginning to regret not wearing my wetsuit. By the nature of the cave passages we were in we were becoming increasingly convinced that we were not in the right place. Also there was no sign of any of the high and low level traverse wires of which Paz and others had spoke. However, while we were in this part of the cave we felt obliged to push all possibilities just in case we had missed something. Finally defeated we retreated back to the main chamber.

Back in the main chamber Stik found the way we should have gone earlier, up a couple of ladders over on the right-hand side of the chamber. However, before continuing we decided to go back outside the cave to warm up and recuperate.

We had lost a good couple of hours in the morning exploring the wrong tributary and so we would not get as far up the main Diau streamway as we would of liked, however, we gave it a good go. A short dry section of cave comes to a chain followed by a ladder which, in turn, brought us to a magnificent chamber. Another ladder followed by a precarious traverse and an even more precarious ladder up the far side of the chamber eventually brought us via more dry passage to the main streamway. Water levels were fairly low and we continued up the spectacular river cave eventually deviating from the streamway via the wind tunnel, which was howling. Rejoining the Diau further on we had a great trip upstream, negotiating cascade after cascade. Eventually we decided to turn round and head back out with the excited news that the water level was low and the thru trip was definitely on.

Back at base our hearts sank as the other three told us of their exploits and it was revealed that the thru trip was unlikely, indeed, it had already started to rain. An hour later the heavens really opened, even the ‘Hell Drivers’ and their much anticipated monster truck show succumbing to the torrential rain. Our spirits were not to be dampened too much - we all made it to the pub in one piece - and discussed possible alternatives for the following day.

Sunday 15/07/2001
The Diau was thundering out of the resurgence entrance and crashing down on the rocks below down to the valley floor. The previous day the entrance had been completely dry.
The through trip off, all six of us had decided to head up to the the Grotte de la Diau and explore up stream. This was easier said than done - the change in the conditions inside the cave was incredible – the streamway was a good 20ft deeper in places. Traverse wires that only yesterday had been high above us were now only just above the water line.
We spent some time at the main entrance chamber where we exchanged club details with a group of cavers from an Annecy caving club.
It also took some time to locate the high-level traverse wires from the main chamber, however we did find them and got underway. A short but sporting trip was had upstream, before turning round and heading back out, the weekends caving over.
By the following morning the rain had finally stopped. We packed up camp and headed for home reflecting upon what might have been and vowing to return one day to conquer the Diau.

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