A week ago I spent some time in Missouri with my beloved family. Dad was speaking at an encampment and we came along for the ride. Many games of Farkle and Parcheesi were played. The last day we were there I woke up and I am not exactly a morning person. I’m not cranky, just don’t approach me too suddenly. I go to the sink and proceed to put toothpaste on my toothbrush like normal and brush my teeth. Next thing I know, as I’m putting on my clothes a detect a slight mint scent. I then go to put up my hair and… wonderful. There is toothpaste in it. This is already a sign that the day is not going to be ordinary. I had signed up for a cave tour earlier in the week. Harmless right? Some nice safe wandering, maybe a bit of climbing, possibly some sleeping bats involved. Wrong. We are talking full on cave exploring. I really should have gotten the hint when I showed up at the mouth of the cave and everyone was wearing pants and long sleeved shirts (some even had those flashlights you wear on your head) except the burly cave guide who was sporting jeans and a muscle shirt. The guide, whose name was Joe, then explained if anyone was claustrophobic, not very strong, or scared of the dark they should back out now. I zoned out and thought about that for a second… I caught a few more words like 60-degree water, crawling, and cave critters. I turned around to the guy behind me and saw that he was also in shorts and a t-shirt and asked if had done this before, he said no and that he didn’t get the flashlight memo either.
Lets pause the story and take a moment to assess the other characters that are also embarking on this cave exploration. It was the biggest group of misfits ever. A bunch of eclectic people, that’s for sure. There were two stereotypical loud interrupting question askers that often debated each other, a few middle school boys who were timid and honestly quite fragile to be embarking on such a journey, and of course a few more that would not stop singing show tunes and Disney songs, and then me and DJ (the kid who was also not appropriately dressed for the occasion and seemed normal.) we were the oldest and possibly the most sane.
So I went inside the cave. I couldn’t just back out—I was already there. Homeboy Joe wasn’t playing. We crawled into spaces that were so small that I did not even have enough room to army crawl. I got on my stomach and crawled through freezing water and at that point I was thankful it was dark so that I didn’t have to experience these “cave critters” that were probably swimming alongside me. You had no option but to get close to the person next to you, so DJ and I became very good friends. We brought up the tail end of the group. Finally after an hour of crawling and gaining multiple bruises and scrapes we stand up which I thought would be better, again... wrong. We then squeeze our way between the walls of the cave that at some points, if I tighten my stomach muscles, were so small that I was touching both sides of the wall with my back and stomach. Then all the sudden I reach my foot out for the next footing spot—and there is nothing there. I look down and there is a twenty-foot crevice. So now I am holding on to a rock on the side of the wall. I can’t move forward because there is someone in the way and can’t find a foothold behind me. So there I am, a person of very little upper body strength, hanging there twenty feet of nice rocks below me to be smashed upon. I really felt like Bear Grylls. It was thrilling. Finally the guy in front of me moves forward right as a start to slip, I slipped but kind of flung my body forward at the same time and landed on a foothold. We continued on in the cave and finally out of it and as cold as it was and although I was bleeding a bit and quite sore and bruised— I would totally do it again. Ideally, with another group of people, but still, a journey I would not mind embarking on again. Its not every day you almost fall into a crevice of death. It added a little more excitement to the week. It was definitely not something ordinary. I recommend it.
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