Caving with the Stars

When you are jumping into something new, it's often hard to figure out just where to start. Even with outdoor adventure hobbies, it is a little intimidating--everyone seems to know what they're doing already. Why should they want to put up with some newbie?

After my last caving failure I figured it was time to draw on the help of caving experts. I got in touch with some Montana cavers who turned out to be friendly and welcoming. Go figure--as it turns out, sending a few inquiring emails around never hurts anything. Actually, that's the only way I've gotten anywhere in life so far. Sounding somewhat literate and reasonable in an email should be a college class, because I'm pretty sure it's more useful than a degree.

As a result, I back from my job in Alaska no more than eight hours before I was out the door with my caving bag packed, ready for an ice cave in the Pryor Mountains.

Getting personal with some paintbrush in the Pryors.

 I learned a few things from this trip. One: the best possible greeting from a stranger at 6 AM is an offer of sizzling bacon and eggs. Second, cavers are an established but small circle of people who all seem to know one another, so try not to screw up too badly.

 Like any other tight group, they are friendly but cautious of outsiders who don't understand. Some well-known people were there leading the caving party. They were legitimate cave explorers and mappers, whose names I had seen before in my cave research. And they kindly but firmly tossed me and another newbie friend I'd convinced to come along ("it'll be fun! no pressure!") into the lion's den.

Where my friend was promptly eaten.

I was a bit nervous about this trip being like a test, and I was right. We were led through a jumble of tight squeezes, short climbs and shallow drops--a cave obstacle course. At various points they asked us which direction the way back was--fortunately, it seemed more a pass or fail exam, and was not graded by percentage (whoops).

The cave was a great start to learning the art of the cave and the caver.

And looking at some cool shit.

Having your future depend on a first impression is unnerving.  I can't tell you that my performance was anything spectacular (it wasn't), but maybe my eagerness showed through anyway, because one of the leaders of the trip (I'll call him The Hammer) invited me to future caves in the fall.

Since then, I've been on a second trip with the Hammer, this time a training trip for a high school club learning to ascend vertical caves.  Everyone was welcoming, and seemed like my kinda people.

Alright--maybe there is room for one more new caver.

The takeaway from all this, I suppose: get out there and get to know people. Try something. It might not work out--it could be an embarrassing failure.

Into the Hole of Shame!

  But even if it is, at least you will have a story to tell (or not tell, at your own discretion. . . )

If you want to get involved with something, shoot an email somewhere. Nothing might happen, or something might.

Keep on cavin' on.