WHEN The Northern Echo reported the deaths of Ray Lea and Julian Carroll, whose bodies were found suspended in a subterranean waterfall, the same thought ran through the heads of hundreds of cavers in the region: there but for the grace of God go I.

All experienced cavers have climbed ropes in waterfalls.They know what it's like to be clipped to a slender length of nylon in a torrent that blinds the eyes and fills the mouth - the incredible cold; the deafening roar; the complete disorientation as the rope spins unchecked; and, most debilitating of all, the sheer weight of water bearing down on head and shoulders.

Hands become numb, fingers become useless, arms ache and legs hang like lead. It is not a pleasant experience.

Ireby Fell Cavern, on the borders of North Yorkshire and Lancashire, which was first explored in 1949 when the sport was in its infancy, is regarded as the perfect cave for training.

But in February, when the rivers were swollen in one of the wettest winters on record, it became the tomb of two experienced North-East potholers who, under normal conditions, would have been more than capable of emerging unscathed after an enjoyable and rewarding day.

Unfortunately, and tragically, that was not to be. On that February night the water was too cold and too powerful. No amount of strength and experience could deliver those men to safety.

So why do people put themselves through such pain and in such danger in the name of sport? My introduction to caving, 26 years ago, took place only two miles from Ireby Fell Cavern in the appropriately named County Pot, which lies directly on the North Yorkshire and Lancashire border and is part of the most extensive cave system in England - the Ease Gill system, which comprises more than 20 miles of passages.

It was March 1975, the weather was cold and drizzly, the walk across the moor was wet and exposed, and my equipment consisted of a pair of overalls, wellington boots, and a shipyard safety helmet to which was attached a weighty carbide lamp. Once underground my glasses steamed up. But within minutes I was introduced to a strange and beautiful world.

Imagine a long and narrow corridor that snakes though rock and meanders, seemingly endlessly, deeper and deeper into the earth. The walls are smooth - polished by water and the passing of centuries - the air is cool and fresh, the knee-deep water is crystal clear, and the ceiling - 20 or 30ft above - decorated with thousands of miniature stalactites.

This is a world of underground rivers foaming through arches of stone; calm pools mirroring delicately fluted flowstone; curtains of marble hanging in shadows; stalagmites standing taller than a man; vast caverns where the darkness and the silence is complete.

More importantly, this is a world where only a few have ventured, and one that has yet to reveal all its secrets. But to visit it requires skill, experience, and no small financial outlay in specialist equipment.

As for the danger, let me put things in perspective. Of the 20 or so people I have caved with regularly during the past 26 years, not one of them has sustained a serious injury.

One was, however, killed in a car crash; one died of leukaemia; and one suffered a fatal heart attack while visiting an old lead mine in the North Pennines.

That is not to say that danger is not present. It is - as February's tragic case proved.

Contrary to what we are accustomed to reading, we do not live in a land of overweight, unhealthy couch-potatoes who survive on a diet of fast-food and soap operas.

We happen to be a nation of people who, come the weekend, enjoy the thrill of danger and the excitement of new experiences - be it surfing at Saltburn, white-water canoeing at the Tees Barrage, walking in the Dales and on the North York Moors, horse-riding, paragliding, motorcycling, mountain-biking, or even abseiling off the Tyne Bridge to raise money for charity.

We recognise that life has dangers and treat it with the respect it demands.

* Alen McFadzean has been a member of a rescue team and has published books on caving topics.