adjustments to
their gear, six cavers struck out into the larger passage to the left
of the main entrance. The rest began the climb up the muddy
break-down
on the right side.
The
picture is of the crew that went to the unnamed cave overlooking
Buck Creek.
Back row (left to right): Bill, Brittany Huron, Kasey
Webb, Matt Simpson, Sarah Bell (author)
Front Row: Bill's daughter, Lori and Bob Dobbs
I, of course, forgot my knee pads in the truck and
had to race up
the hill to get them in time to join the last of the cavers
disappearing over the crest of the slimy rocks. Jamie and Matt
graciously waited for me and we quickly caught up with our cohorts in
the peanut-butter sludge of the aptly-named “Muddy Crawl”. The
gasps
and exclamations echoed back to us as each member of the group gave up
trying to stay dry and wallowed in the cold mud. Finally, we all
oozed
out into a maze of canyon passage and began jogging after Jamie and
Bob, who alternated leading us through the labyrinth that is
Wells.
The route we sought was the loop
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that would allow us to avoid the
bat
hibernaculum, yet still make it down to see the river passage.
After a
few wrong moves, we took turns sliding down a ten-foot chimney into a
room that could hardly accommodate the size of our group. After
the
last caver made it down the chimney and we stood there for a few
minutes getting our bearings, we realized that we were back at the
entrance. Few in the group were interested in making the climb
back up
the chimney in order to get back on track, so our trip ended abruptly
right where we started.
Many members of our initial crew were ready to
return to GSP and
start preparing an early dinner, so we slid our vehicles around much
like one of those infuriating picture puzzles, where you just want to
pop out a piece or two and arrange the
picture outside the box. We managed to
let them escape the parking lot without fresh scratches on their
clear-coat. The remaining cavers weren’t satisfied to stop caving
so
soon, so Bob Dobbs donned a stunning plastic shawl that he fashioned
from an everyday trash bag and six of us piled into the back of Matt’s
Ford Ranger to huddle through the frigid trip to Dykes Bridge
Cave.
While poking around the sandy entrance, we met up with a couple who had
brought their grandchildren to do some exploring with
flashlights.
Soon we discovered that they were NSS members and that they knew of a
cave that overlooked Buck Creek. Back we
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