Over the hills, through the woods

A cave adventure (caventure?) in north central Montana

Step One: Wakeup

 The cast assembled bright and early on a cold Saturday morning: a crew of five teenagers, two adults, and whatever I count as. Our mission was to reach two caves by plodding across the snowy hills, so that we could check them for hibernating bats. Everybody strapped into their snowshoes and followed the somewhat erratic guidance of my GPS.

During the first mile or so of a hike, I realize I actually hate hiking and should give it up and find a cozy chair and a book somewhere. Fortunately endorphins kick in after that, and I start to enjoy it (at least that's what I assume is happening).

Not too proud for hands and knees.

 We huffed and puffed our way over the hills, floundering in the dry, sugarlike snow. The views of the sweeping plains made it a pleasant experience, but we were relieved to reach the first cave, Wind Hole. Unfortunately, there was still a mile and a half to our real destination, the next larger cave, and there was a formidable ridge between us and it.

Crawlway into the Wind Hole

We would have to climb the mountainous ridge twice. A few members of the party decided it wasn't going to happen and called it a day, turning back to follow our packed-down trail out. The rest of us needed to pick up the pace if we were to get out before sundown.

Step Two: The Work

The way in!

 There was so much snow, we worried that the entrance to Cave #2 might be sealed off--a legitimate fear, as it turned out, as there was a giant mound of snow filling it. We rode the snowpile down in, crawled in the low entryway and got to work. Our efforts paid off--bats!

Or frozen batsicles.

Because of their presence, we placed a data logger to record temperature and humidity, snapped some shots of the bats for ID purposes and got out. It was a small cave, but combing every inch of it for bat sign still took time. We were in a race to get back before the sun set (and the temperature dropped even further).

Step 3: Get the Heck Out

Attempting a time-saving glissade down a snow chute

I don't usually feel that I am all that much use as a chaperone. The kids are spunky and resourceful, and could make it back on their own if necessary. But I was still happy that I was there to check in and make sure no one's fingers were getting frostnipped, and to herd them onward whenever they got sidetracked.

Eventually, we all made it back to the warm, waiting bus. It was well after dark, and the kids and I were pretty well exhausted. I found it surprisingly easy to nap during the six hours on the bus ride back to my car, adopting all sorts of contorted positions.

Step 3.5: Learning

It seems like I am learning more than the cave clubbers are, despite my supposed chaperone status. I'm trying to be patient but still push them on. Learn how much to help them, or let them figure things out on their own (so far, erring on the side of the latter).

One of the main things I am discovering is how much these kids are capable of. It is an amazing thing to watch a group of 15-year-olds take a burly hike in freezing temperatures and still get down to business and take their work seriously in the cave.

When I was 15, I would have literally died in the attempt.

It is the club leader, their high school teacher, who pulls off this magic. All I can do is come along and hope to pick up some of his wisdom, if he'll allow it.

Some days, I don't feel qualified to oversee grass grow. I am making mistakes, and I don't know what I'm doing most of the time. I can only hope that I stay humble and open toward these lessons. If I don't learn from them, there isn't a point.

After all, I have something important to work toward.

           Snuggling this adorable creature. (jokes, of course...)