Exploring the Underworld

May 20th, 2009: I have managed to do some caving over the years and today was another cave I will unfortunately forget about as I grow older and more forgetful as I sit in front of the TV watching the A-Team marathon on Nickelodeon at 3 am with the other bed wetter’s. The caves I have explored ranges from the ones with the beautiful lighting, exquisite signage and nicely placed dining facilities/souvenir shops, to the basic hole in the ground that you take a head lamp and wander off into the abyss. Today, I made it through a cave system in San Gil that was somewhat different than what I was use to...it was extremely wet and muddy – a child’s and a grown man’s dream!

I think my fascination for crawling around in the underworld began when I was a child playing in a nearby sewer system that fed into the local creek. Back then we would put on our rain boots, grab the emergency flash light under the kitchen sink and explore the network of tunnels running underneath our city. Thinking about it…we never really made it that far - that is...until my 20's. This was partially due to the urban legend (thanks to my Dad) that the rats that lived here were known to grow to the size of a small dog – not a Chihuahua or Mini-pincher…much much bigger. You must remember…in a child’s mind, everything is to the extreme.

Doing a small stroll out of town and crossing an open field, we reached a wooded area which helped camoflague the hole we were about to enter…no ticket booth, paved sidewalks or postcards to show that I was here - nothing. Igniting our batteries on our trusty headlamps, we entered the mouth of the cave by making our way down an iron ladder. Once inside, the cities of cockroaches and other insects gathered by the masses to welcome us to their simple, yet comfortable living arrangement. Here we followed our guide as would a pack mule for about a 2 ½ hour trip exploring a small portion of this network.

Our guide explained the creation of the formations that we came across in Spanish, of coarse…but what was being said was no interest to me – neither were the silly names of the formations that some drunken South American must have come up with one night after 4 or 5 too many beers. My goal was so simple…it was to crawl around and get filthy – without having to explain why a 36 year old man that is pushing 40, is looking as if he just had his first experience in the mud.

The amount of mud was staggering. On a few sections I would squat and slide on my feet down the huge slopes, navigating myself through moguls of mud with my finger tips, digging them deep into the sludge when needing to slow my decent. The cave system was nicely organized by having sections filled with water ranging from the depth of one toe to almost the ceiling of the shaft, to conveniently self manage the accumulated mud that built up as we moved deeper into the shaft.

Unfortunately – for everyone else that is - with no restrooms in this caving system, I was forced to…improvise when it was necessary. This is where the deep water would nicely shadow the awkward movements I made through the tunnels, as I perfected my multitasking skills.

Having Army flashbacks, I low crawled through long stretches with the jagged ceiling closely hovering above me to remind me to keep my head down and checks low. Without being outside it was extremely apparent to tell that is was raining by easily noting the water level was getting higher and higher by observing the incredible shrinking ceiling. Toward the end of our exploration, the water temp seemed to drop and the air even felt uncomfortably cooler. Nothing probably changed except for my mindset. When heading out of the cave, I knew what cold bodies of water that needed to be crossed and about how long it was going to take. Unlike hydrospeeding, I did not have to be as mentally alert…easily making it to a warm destination in my mind as soon as the auctioneer decided to show up - convincing my body I was warm and continuing to enjoy what the cave had to offer.

Getting back to the hostel I began to feel a growing pain…lots of growing pains – perhaps it would be more accurate to call them…”growing older pains.” My body felt like a mass of loosely connected bones and unresponsive muscle. At this moment…the majority of AARP members would easy be able to overpower me for my wallet, spare change or acts of indecency. I now walk holding my lower back being thankful for: my backpack that conveniently converts into rolling luggage, saved muscle relaxers from a previous injury and the ability to support the signature old man shuffle…with style.