New Town – New Adventure
After recently moving to a new town in Northern Virginia I was getting the itch to meet new people all the while trying something new. I opened up the Meetup app and pursued the adventure offering. I searched for something that was outdoors, physically challenging, and that I have never done before. My filter criteria presented advanced caving. I never went caving before, so advanced caving was perfect! I signed up, sent $15, and excitedly waited for the weekend.
Early on Saturday morning, I drove two hours deep into the hills of Western Virginia. I pulled into the unpaved parking lot with too much gusto. Dust, gravel and debris surrounded my car making me look like Pig-Pen arriving late to Charlie Brown’s dinner. I stepped out of my car and pretended to busy myself with nothing while assessing the situation. Every other person here was more than half my age and more importantly half my size. My ego and confidence deflated upon the realization that I am the oldest and widest in the group.
The last to arrive was our guide. He drove into the parking lot in a 15-year-old Subaru Outback station wagon in a color that was Evergreen on the date of purchase but today the color looked closer to never green.As he stepped out of his dented car he looked like Jesús Christ rising from the dusty ash. He was tall, lanky with a greying beard. His skin looked like a hide that was baked in the sun and stretched over his bones. He welcomed us and told us his name was Jesús.
Trunk or Treat
Jesús opened up his tailgate and rummaged through sagging boxes, dozens of helmets, papers and clothing. He pulled out a clipboard and called our names one by one. We walked up and shook his proffered boney hand. We were directed to rummage through his mess to find our safety equipment. I felt like a truffle pig foraging for the prized mushroom. I walked away with two gloves hanging from my teeth, a labyrinth of a harness and a helmet, all of which had an acrid smell of sweat, bacteria and body oils from cavers who wore this stuff before me.
Jesús stepped into an army green hazmat suit while the rest of us wrestled with our harnesses.
I tried to look confident as I attempted to put on my harness. I wasn’t sure if I was stepping into the shoulder straps, waist belt or the leg loops. The others quickly realized I had no clue what I was doing and surrounded me like muskoxen protecting me from myself. I was told to raise my arms while each one of my new friends pulled and tugged at the straps until they were satisfied. I felt like I was in a free-form diaper serving no purpose other than accentuating my insecurities.
The Hole Truth
We gathered around our leader and walked one mile along a country road before turning off onto an unmarked path. Like a messiah leading his followers to a be
tter land, we followed Jesús to a hole in the ground. He explained that we will start here, pointed to a hole and dramatically threw rope down a hole barely bigger than the turkey I trussed last Thanksgiving .
“Any questions?” he asked.
“Ahh, Yeah! I have one?” I blurted out as I intuitively raised my hand in the air like a first grader on my first day of school. “Has anyone ever gotten stuck?” The others looked at me with impatience. But I wanted to know. Wasn’t this an important and necessary question one would ask before sliding down into the dark abyss below our feet?
“Well, there was this one time,” he began. “A woman, about your age, did get stuck. We were all making our way through a tight passage. When it was her turn, she got stuck. Her top couldn’t fit through the narrow opening.” He stopped speaking. This was all he planned on sharing.
My pupils dilated with fear and confusion. “Well, what did you do? I am assuming you all got out?” I asked.
Jesús sighed with annoyance and let us/me know that fortunately, there were two men who slid through before her and were now looking up at her dangling legs. They tried pulling at her legs while the others on her top side pushed on her head. This didn’t work, so the two men, leg side, began piling rocks on top of each other creating a makeshift ladder. One of the men stood on the rocks and the woman was able to stand on the man’s shoulders and pop up through the top.
I had to ask. “Was she embarrassed?”
His eyebrows furrowed with exasperation. “No. I don’t think so”, he said.
I thought she would be mortified, but decided to let it go.
Outdoor Adventures Inside
Our group lined up eager to begin their adventure. When it was my turn, I sat down and slid down mother nature’s wet sliding board. Just a few seconds in, I quickly realized it was too cold, too dark and too dirty down here. I shouldn’t have worn my favorite bright yellow running jacket. Within a few inches into my adventure it was covered with sediment and lost all of its hyper-yellow glow shortly after my initial descent. I followed the leader and tried to keep my attitude high and my complaining low.
Our first challenge was to rappel off a ledge that was at least 70 feet up from the floor below. I am never first in line for anything new. I like for someone else to go first so I can quickly gather a few lessons learned, see if they die, all while making snarky judgments in my head.
Ready, Set, No!
Jesús pointed to me to let me know I was next even though I wasn’t ready to go next. He hooked the buckles of my diaper straps to the pulley system anchored around a boulder. “Just lean back, step off of the edge and use your feet to walk down the wall,” he said. The cavers before me made it look too easy. I hesitated to wrap my head around what I was expected to do while trying to wrap my toes around the edge, when Jesús gave me a physical nudge of encouragement before I was ready. I fell backwards, and couldn’t get my slick sneakers to grip the slick wall. My body began to swing. People were shouting instructions while my carcass swung like a side of beef hanging from a conveyor belt at a meat processing facility.
Jesús was yelling for me to face the wall but I was unable to find traction anywhere. I was spinning like the tiny ballerina in my childhood music box. My hands and feet manically scratched at the slick surface in an attempt to find something to grab, but my momentum made that impossible. Jesús screamed from above and told me to stop just STOP. I stared up into the bright light of his helmet with my legs and arms splayed out like a starfish. I was still spinning. He gave up and lowered me until I was resting spread eagle on the surface of the cave. I rolled over to my belly, did a pushup to my hands and knees and stood up. After brushing the loose sediment off my jacket, I looked around for accolades of a job well done. Everyone had their backs to me in obvious embarrassment.
Fifth Grade Fitness Test
After we all repelled, Jesús led us to an overhang where we would use a rope to climb 20 feet. Last time I climbed a rope was in the 5th grade. I remember the long thick rope hanging from the gymnasium ceiling 24 feet above. As part of a physical fitness challenge, we were encouraged to climb to the top, touch the ceiling and slide down. I remember I wore shorts that day. I quickly made it to the top, tapped my fingers on the metal rafter and almost fell to the ground when a bolt of static electricity shot through my body. On the descent my thighs almost caused a small fire as I used them as my primary braking system. I still carry those two scars of bravery between my thighs.
Climbing to the Clay
My ego was still bruised from my last failure and I had doubts I would be able to do this next challenge. When it was my turn, I grabbed the rope as high as I could reach and began my ascent. Thankfully, there were small knots where I could rest, get leverage and plan out how to get to the next knot. Five knots up and all of my ceps were burning; biceps, triceps and quadriceps. Jesús leaned over the ledge and extended his hand. A flash of Michelangelo’s painting,”The Creation of David” popped into my head. God will give life to Adam only if their fingers touch. I reached out to Jesús in hopes he would give me life and the strength I needed to get up on the shelf. I felt the warm grip of Jesús’ gloved hand. He yanked my exhausted corpse up and onto the ledge.
I splayed prone and face down as I took a few precious seconds to rest. I pulled myself into the fetal position to allow space for other climbers. When we were all squished into this narrow small space, Jesús pointed to a small clay pit where earlier visitors made rudimentary clay faces that were reminiscent of pre-K art projects. I struggled to find any joy in this needless exhausting diversion.
The Light at the End of the Tunnel
Five hours into the tour of darkness, we were led to our last obstacle before we would see the light of day. Every part of my body was shaking from exhaustion, cold and low blood sugar. Jesús led us to a wall with an 18 inch opening at the bottom. It looked no bigger than the space underneath my bed. He told us to get on our stomach and shimmy underneath to the other side. I found myself once again on all fours before flopping on the ground like a sea turtle struggling to get on the beach.
The space was approximately one inch higher than my body. My head was turned so my entire face was squished on the damp cold ground. I turned my right foot so my ankle was now crushed on the ground positioned my elbows like GI Joe crawling to meet Barbie. Using one elbow and one toe, I was able to move forward one inch. Five minutes in and I’m not even halfway. I look up, hit my head and see a bright light. I can only hope that this flash of light signifies the end of my misery, but I soon realize it is my new friends laughing and taking my picture. When they see me still struggling, they reach down, and pull my body out from under the slabs of rock. I barely have enough in me to stand up right.
The Light of Day
Jesús finally leads us to the light. A small hole bright with the promise of the outside world is only a few feet away. This time, I am first in line and scramble up the heavily rooted passage to feel the warmth of sun on my body. My new friends join me outside and everyone raises their hand for high-five celebrations and we smile for a few pictures.
We lumbered back to our cars in silence like zombies looking for their next meal. At the parking lot, we all toss our sweaty equipment in Jesús’ trunk just the way we found it. He is ready to guide his next group and I am ready to say goodbye to a once in a lifetime adventure. Because I will never ever do it again. Never.
