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It was a
grey and shitty day at
Two days
later the Greyhound bus pulled into the terminal at
Despite
feeling like dirt I couldn’t miss out on a caving trip. Chris picked me up in
his truck outside the “dunkin’ doughnut” on the Sunday morning. He had read Jim
Eyre’s “The Cave Explorers” and had even heard of the RRCPC. This was my first
impression of an American caver: “How do you fancy doing a 600ft pit called
Ellison’s, Neil?!” I reluctantly agreed and explained that I wasn’t feeling too
good and it would take a long time for me to prussik up and I would probably
puke on him from above. Luckily the gate was locked up the road so Chris
changed his mind. We were in TAG country (
We settled
for a modest 150 ft pitch in Cemetery Pot and a quick look around some of the
passages and chambers leading off from the bottom. On the way out my aspirins
had worn out and I was forced to vomit at the top of the pitch. We ended the day
by exploring
Alan was
extremely keen and favoured exploration. He showed me several surveys of some
of the caves they had been involved in finding and also explained about the
cave formation and geology of the area. He talked about many classic trips
which I would enjoy and his favourite saying was: “The wetter the better”. He
also liked misery and tight squalid holes. I was definitely home from home.
The next
weekend followed and I was back up to full strength. We set off on the Friday
afternoon and headed for a Christmas party at Cumberland Caverns in
We soon
arrived at the pot after a short walk through the thick woodland. Alan soon rigged
the rope round a nearby tree arid rappelled down. I placed my Petzl stop on the
thick, muddy 11 mm rope. I found it difficult to descend due to too much
friction. I eventually arrived at the bottom of the 1 20ft pit. The cave was
beautiful with large white calcite pillars towering up the shaft. A tight
squeeze led to a small grotto with more interesting formations. After a quick
look round we returned back up the shaft. Alan used the Texas Two Rig to climb
out and even with a wrist in plaster he managed it quicker than me.
After
stopping for me to buy a 12 pack of Bud we arrived in the field somewhere near
the Cumberland Cavern system. By now the rain had stopped but the temperature
had dropped below freezing. I awoke in my bivvy bag, cold and with a bad
hangover. Several people had arrived during the night including Jim Smith, the
leader of the up and coming 1993 expedition to Hautla in
I was
introduced to Alan’s youth Heath who made plans to do a deep wet cave called
Hicky Pot. After an oatmeal and banana breakfast we loaded up his car with ropes
and set off, both of us not knowing anything about the cave apart from the rope
lengths and the fact it was wet. Only two parties had been to the bottom since
it was originally discovered. After passing over several creeks we realised
that the local water levels were quite high. We stopped to buy some Mars bars
ten drove up to a large country house at the base of some woods. Heath spoke to
the local natives and permission was given.
The walk
up to the cave almost killed me. I had never been so bloody hot struggling up a
steep hill in several layers of thermals, a furry suit with a thick PVC TSA
suit, and too much rope and SRT equipment. Heath patiently waited for me to
catch up. We found the entrance with a large stream flowing into a small hole.
This way in was too wet as Heath soon found out so we opted for the alternative
1 5ft entrance pitch. This led through to a small crawl to a very wet streamway
and an exciting pitch of 30ft. We traversed over the water and rigged the pitch
out of most of it. A hands and knees crawl led to the third pitch. This one
looked impossible to avoid the water. We managed to place a deviation at the
top and I placed my new rack on the rope. It was a quick descent down the
waterfall to a ledge after 30ft, off the ledge and under the full force of the
water down 1 5ft to a large chamber full of large formations flowing down the
back wall. I watched the impressive spectacle of Heath descending - the wetter
the better!
We soon
left the main streamway and a 24ft free climb led to a deep pooled chamber. At
one end a tiny airspace led off. As we emerged ourselves into the pool one
became stuck in the glutinous mud underneath the water. On your back and off
with your helmet struggling with the tackle. The diarrhoea sump lived up to its
name - a classic piece of misery at its best! We followed this miserable
passage to a junction with the main streamway. The way on was worse - a long
low airspace crawl becoming quite tight around the chest. Alan Cressler was the
man who’d originally pushed the cave. I found it better to take off my helmet
and wore a balaclava. I had an epic when my carbide hose set on fire. I filled
the crawl with acetylene gas.The crawl continued for several hundred feet until
it eased to hands and knees then short cascades led to a 55ft pitch. This was
rigged semi dry. At the bottom there was an awkward rift climb to a huge
balcony over an impressive black space. Heath hammered a bolt in to make sure
the 1 20ft drop was rigged dry. I shivered on the ledge, waiting patiently. The
pitch was a free hang through the roof of a large chamber with plenty of
formations - impressive stuff. By now the character of the cave seemed a lot
friendlier.
The return
trip was exciting and tiring. We surfaced into the cool evening air after 10
hours underground. Heath admitted that it was the hardest trip he’d done so
far. I compared it to a good grade 5 in
Everyone
decided to have a group ridge walk on the Sunday, ridge walking is an American
term for looking for new caves, we split into two different groups. The first
thing to do is to find the contact point, in this instance it was a small layer
of sandstone in between two different layers of limestone. This occurs at a
certain altitude and is marked on the topo map for reference in the specific
area. Jim Smith and Marion “0” Smith walked at a higher altitude trying to find
a top entrance to the system. It is quite common for a cave to break through
the layer of sandstone and produce a depth potential of around 600-700 feet
depending on the area. The area we were walking on was a lot lower down. I
walked on the contact level while the others walked above and below looking for
the obvious signs of cave entrances.
Ridge walking is very exciting but demands a lot of time to be spent over a
small area, most of the time the area is in “clearcut” which is where the trees
have been cleared and dense brambles and thorn bushes have grown In their
place. We were having no luck apart from getting lost from each other and being
ripped to shreds by the not so friendly vegetation when suddenly Alan came
across a small depression with a draughting hole in the bottom. With me being
new to this he let me dig the hole open and explore the new cave. I rigged the
rope around the nearest tree and rappelled down the tight entrance hole. I
placed my rack on my cowstail because the top was tight, the shaft soon broke
into a fair sized hole but stopped after 20ft. There was no promising way on at
the bottom apart from a climb up one of the walls. I climbed up ten foot and
traversed over a hole finding myself in the roof of a circular pothole, after
rebelaying the rope to a large formation I set off down. My rope was only 70ft
long and I soon reached the knot dangling in space about 1 5ft from the floor.
Unfortunately
we did not have another rope in our group so after locating the new cave on the
topo map we walked back to find the other group. We couldn’t find them anywhere
and thought that they could have found a big system and were scooping the
booty! We returned to the trucks and finished the weekend in style with an “All
you can eat” meal at Stoneys for $6, no wonder some Americans are so fat!
By Friday I was to meet a Gerald Mani in the greyhound bus terminal at
Chatanooga for the start of my adventures in
to be
continued
Neil Pacey.
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