Off
the seat of a
bicycle
Chapter 3 Caving
Previous chapter
Morphing
into early adolescence, my body grew strong and I was able to do
physical things for long periods without tiring.
I rode a bike
continually and walked long miles in the woods exploring and bring home
salamanders, and once captured a 4-foot black snake on chilly day, only
to have him escape our garage overnight.
My inquiry the next
day, if anybody had seen my snake, caused a bright response from my
mother who didn’t know a snake was at her house. Mom issued
orders-from-headquarters: no more snakes, lol.
My mom always
supported her four children. She allowed us to roam free.
She knew we
were good people. She played a typical role in my life
when some boys from high school decided to skip-out and go to
Coon cave instead.
I was a regular in the southern Indiana
caves, going practically every weekend (but I had reoccurring
nightmares about those black holes).
To mastermind the skip-day cave trip, I volunteered my spelunker’s lanterns and
equipment.
Just before school, two guys stopped by and we snuck the
caving equipment out to the car. But, ah-ha, my mom spied the goings-on.
She cornered me saying she would call the principal (who coincidently lived
three doors down with her dyke partner and two Cadillacs) to make sure
I was at school.
Mom didn’t care if the other boys went caving
on a school day; She made it clear that I wasn’t going too.
She later confided that she
never called the school, fearing it might begat trouble.
And sure
enough trouble was begot, but not because of her.
She never called and
I went to school, but the other fellows went to the cave and scraped 2
paper bags full of bats off the ceiling in ‘sand room’ then turned
everything loose in the school hallways.
The janitors were
running around swinging brooms. The kids were ordered to stay behind
closed doors. And the previously absent boys, who curiously showed up
in the middle of Chemistry class laughing as the incident unfolded,
were forwarded to the office and given 3 days off.
Incidents like this lead to good memories don’t they?
Later
that year I led a group of boys into Wayne’s Cave.
It was a private
honor because I was a fringe person socially.
Someone got the whole
group excited about caving, and I knew the caves and had the
equipment, so we went.
The only
choice was Wayne’s Cave.
Any schoolmarm could crawl through Buckner’s
or Salamander, but Wayne’s Cave was hard. It was hard to find and hard
to travel, and paid off when you got deep inside with its oversized
tunnels and boulders and huge rooms filled with breakdown from the
ceiling and passageways squirreling off in every direction.
Wayne’s was
the masterpiece.
Years earlier, Wayne’s became a local news
story after somebody excavated mud from a tunnel and opened a new part
of the cave.
The US Geological Survey explored and mapped the entire
thing, and they left a half mile of telephone wire stretching back to
Camp I.
Unlike many caves, Wayne’s was relatively 'safe' with no
danger of flash flood or pockets of explosive gas so it was okay taking
inexperienced people, plus we didn’t have to take the most dangerous
route to enjoy the day.
Secretly I liked being the ‘expert’ that
day. I was excited and had read all the books on caves and cave lore.
We
drove past the airport a few miles and parked along the road, but no
other cars were there that day.
Nobody would be in the cave to bail us
out. The six of us descended two ten foot pits and adjusted our
acetylene lamps in the darkness before gathering up 100 yards down
where the crawlway started. One by one we stooped over and started
crawling hands and knees in the mud and rock.
I didn’t
lead. It wasn’t my cave, it belonged to everybody and I was proud to
share it. If it was more dangerous I would’ve started off first, but we
were there that day for hard work and fun.
The crawlway at
Wayne’s is twelve hundred feet long, and low in some places. Once place
you have to slither through with your head turned sideways. The
crawlway eventually pops out on the side of a large white limestone
tunnel, leaving you suspended 20 feet above the floor.
From
there it’s a short and half-dangerous crawl down a sloping ledge to get to the first
large chamber, where Wayne’s becomes awe-inspiring with passageways
thirty and forty feet high, going off in multiple directions, and some
places towering three tiers high. You can feel ‘time’ carved in the
sculpted walls formed from millions of years of carbonic erosion … but
in most places you are brought back to the human experience, as visitor
after visitor has scrawled their mark over the top of every man that
came before them.
Our great cave outing lasted one day
and gave memories for a lifetime, but we almost lost John up on the
third tier. Read story Read another
He crawled out along a sloping ledge that got steeper the
further he went. He was using his legs as friction to hold his weight
while moving forward, but when he wanted to come back, there wasn’t
enough friction to reverse position. He was going to slide and fall
off. I saw it and jumped across the crevice, followed by another guy.
Reaching
out over a boulder, John and I locked arms while the third guy held
fast onto my belt. We reeled John in off the ledge and back to
comparable safety, and that was damn close but nobody said anything and
we went on exploring.
Years later John returned home from the
military. He called, thanking me for saving his life that day. I bet he
had more than one nightmare about sliding off and falling into that
black hole, bouncing off one wall into the other until smashing into the broken rubble below.
Today all those caves are closed.
For
decades they had a rescue squad on call, but it was probably hard work
searching for lost people and pulling half broken bodies through those
tunnels. The county government closed everything for public safety.
The
last time I went caving turned out to be a cancelled trip to Salamander
the same day three novice cavers drown there.
They got caught in a
‘flash’ flood and probably tried to make the entrance when they should
have stayed in the big room. I know exactly where they found them, in
the lone high spot along the stream channel.
What happens
along that passageway is the stream goes into smaller and smaller
crevices, and the water backs up. Once it starts filling the tunnel,
the cavers can’t go back because the current is too strong., and you can't go forward because the tunnel is flooded.
I
shudder to imagine how many times we risked that same fate. We used to
watch the weather reports, but anything can happen. We were just lucky.
The newspaper wrote that ‘two girls and a boy scratched the
stone ceiling’ where they clawed their fingers to bone fighting the
pitch black water before they drown.
But it was John’s call
that sparked my recollection of our day in Wayne’s. Without it I might
have forgotten one of life’s small adventures. I guess everyone forgets
the magnificent time they spent alive … and I maybe that’s the purpose
of this book, to rebuild those memories inside me and spark anew the
desire to contribute.
Chapter 4) Rock throwers and bayonet boy
Index of chapters