Green Grotto Cave Parts 1 and 2

Green Grotto Cave Trips 1 and 2

            Recently, a friend of mine approached me about exploring a cave on some newly acquired property. Any caver knows how exciting such an offer is. I had looked on the survey, but I didn’t come up with a cave in the area, and I was excited about the possibility. So, Mark, my two friends, and I headed out with lots of gear to the cave as my friend had explained that we would need rope to rig the drop. We hiked into a sink, and the entrance was beautiful, a huge dome framing our way. I began removing gear from my bag, longing for rope to avoid the crazy ladder that people were using to enter the cave. But, alas, due to an extraordinary miscommunication, Mark and I had failed to see which of us was carrying the rope, both assuming the other had it. We got all of the way into the sink with no rope! Still, I wanted to see what I could, and Mark agreed. I bypassed the fragile-looking ladder that someone had rigged. I find the webbing and rung ladders more terrifying than free climbing. So, I took my time climbing into a crack off to the side, using stones as my holds until I got to the same spot everyone else landed in. The entrance had a nice dome and an obvious path onward, filled with wood and leaf debris.

            It didn’t take our group long to arrive at the pit’s edge. I didn’t want to be anywhere near it, but Mark looked down and declared it to be about 25 feet. Still, it would be impossible to free climb, and I was ready to turn around. Then, Mark looked at a spot under my feet, and said, “Look, a Brandi hole!” (Brandi holes are any kind of miserable crack or crawl that Mark wants me to check out before he stuffs himself through.) And sure enough, there was a crack that I could try. I climbed down to the entrance of the crawl and had to go through on my side. I was pressed in and the rough edges felt like sliding through a cheese grater. I cursed for the duration of the crawl.

            My two friends were on their first cave trip, and they didn’t know that I could curse quite so proficiently. I think they were getting a little alarmed even. I heard Mark reassuring them, “Oh, she’s fine. She’s loving this.” I wanted to curse more upon hearing that little statement, but I kept my profanity in so that I didn’t alarm the new people once I saw that my crawl opened up into a beautiful dome room. I began excitedly shouting for Mark to follow. The dome overhead looked to be a bit more than 30 feet, and it was raining water down on me. I wasn’t sure if the new guys would be brave enough to follow, but I badly wanted to explore and hoped they could overcome any claustrophobia they possessed. One followed. Then, Mark and finally the last guy struggled through. I could tell he found the squeeze challenging, but he wasn’t cursing or hyperventilating, and I was impressed that the new guys managed that tight space on their first trip.

            I loved watching the surprise on their faces as they looked up into the vast space. Being underground is astounding.  The vast rooms and carved domes stupefy us all. And I could tell they were ecstatic to witness a new realm. We followed the water to an even larger water fall with an amazing, pounding flow. Mark scrambled up to see its entirety, and I opted out because I didn’t want to be soaked for the rest of the adventure. And the others followed my lead on that issue.

            Mark returned, and we went down a side passage, noting a pool as we went. Mark believed that to be where the water went and of especial interest. But that was not on my agenda for the day because it looked like a tiny wetsuit-requiring squeeze. Instead, Mark and I went down into a shallow canyon area, following the walls into a large, sandy room. The other two went over the top where we went down, and we were surprised that we all popped out into the same area. Mark and I pushed the edges of the whole space, crawling into tiny areas of leafy debris even. Mark believed that entire space to be an overflow room. We reluctantly parted the area, unsure if there was a cave map for it and made plans to return.

            On the day following the trip, Mark did a thorough search and found a map of the cave. Alas. Not an original find. But that didn’t stifle my curiosity. The drop that I didn’t get to do on the first trip was haunting me, and, like Mark, I wanted to see where the water went. So, we made plans for another weeknight trip. One of our party had to bow out, and I am always sad for anyone that can’t go caving. But we were still a party of four and carried on. We hiked into the sink and rigged the drop this time. The two people with us were not vertically qualified, and they prepared to do the crawl that would get them through the rest of the cave. I did the rappel and was amazed to see the spot where there was a pool last time at the bottom through the crack. And it was dry now. I climbed up into a crack that had gotten a “too tight” symbol on the map, and it was, indeed, miserable. I didn’t go all of the way, but I suspect it came from the surface. It was filled with debris. And our pool was missing. So, we went back up, tracing the water.

            I saw a flash of white in a pool and was astonished to see not a crawfish or a seed pod as I’d thought, but a white-finned catfish, trapped in a puddle. We had no way to remove him and tried to leave him alone. Mark and I went onward toward the waterfall climb that I now wanted to do, and our friends opted to explore the Buddha Room at the bottom. On our way to the bigger dome, we saw that all of the water was disappearing into the stony floor. The cave takes a good deal of water, but if you wanted to find out where all of that went, you’d have to dig.

            That mystery was somewhat solved now, and I scrambled up the rocks. I paused to enjoy the high—87 ft.—dome. The water was pounding out of a tube near the top, and I am certain that there’s got to be a third entrance up there somewhere. We walked around on the upper level, and Mark did the step across to see the rest, while I opted to enjoy my perch near the waterfall. We returned along the same route and were caving back to our packs through the crack. Right before I could go through, a cave rat scrambled before me. You’ll be thrilled to know that this daring adventurer did not shriek about the rodent. However, I may have hesitated in following it through, and I might have been worried that it was hiding in my vertical gear. If you’ll recall from my recent Blevins Gap article, I only recently discovered that cave rats actually exist, in spite of my years of caving. They are still shocking to me.

            The little guy must have been frightened and hiding because I didn’t see it again. We donned our gear, climbed out, and rejoined our group as we de-rigged. They seemed thrilled to be underground again, and I am glad to have some of my big questions about the cave answered. I groused my way out of the sink, and I’m sure those guys were thinking, “How the heck has she been caving so long? Don’t people hate her?” And the answer is, the ones who love me have started to ignore the complaining. It’s a coping mechanism. And I’m sure that in spite of my onslaught of complaints about our angle of ascent on the hike out, that those excited faces will be back underground. They may even be back underground with me.