Green Grotto (Trip 4): Climbing Out of My Memories

There's a weird symmetry to repeatedly being asked to go to Green Grotto Cave. It's the first cave I took the man who attacked me to. I never thought I would go back, and this year I am on my third trip somehow. 

Ben agreed to take an enthusiastic newbie there after he found it while lost on the preserve. (It's not really a good first cave trip, but when you're eighteen, you're immortal, right?) 

I enjoyed the hike. I've learned to slow down and enjoy the details around me, but it's not something teens are good at. And I did my best to keep up with the tall people. 

When we got to the cave, the waterfall at the entrance was roaring, and the crevice I normally climb down was pouring water. 

That wasn't ideal, but I prefer to rig a rope and tie a hasty harness with two ascenders. It's about a six-foot climb down, and I can downclimb that way or Texas up. Still, I did not enjoy looking for the right footholds in the waterfall. Ben was chivalrous and stood in the water to tell me where to place my feet. 

Water pooled at the bottom. It was dry on my last couple of trips. We went on to the main passage, and we pushed through the cheese grater crawl so that we didn't need to do the 25-ft. drop with the non-vertical new caver, Nate. I usually don't mind squeezes at all, but PTSD has changed my life. Things that used to induce adrenaline and be manageable are panic attacks now. I was okay wedged sideways in the rock, cursing the squeeze that wanted to take my pants with it. But there was a small stream of water flowing from the top of the crack. At the peak of misery with my hips wedged, the stream was in my face and water filled my ear. I started hyperventilating and questioning my life choices. (Nate didn't know this. He'd already gone through and Ben coached me from the other side.) 

I could be one of those women who shoe shops on the weekend. Their ears aren't full of water while they are stuck between limestone walls. 

I wriggled until I got out, with Ben encouraging me from the far side. He's much taller than I am, but I am considerably curvier. I'm not sure who has it worse in that crawl. 

I have gotten particular about who I cave with. Some people think less of you if you hyperventilate over things that used to be easy for you or that are easy for everyone else. And some people can't handle a person panicking at all. Ben is used to it after the year living together, and he doesn't try to turn me around, he just gives me what I need to make it through. 

My struggle was rewarded with a waterfall view immediately. 

We took a side trip to the dome, but Nate wasn't so certain about that climb up. It's exposed and not very easy, especially with water pouring over the side. I was relieved when he decided not to push his luck, and Ben climbed back down. 

I had been pointing out fossils and water flow along the way. There's a tantalizing spot in this cave where all of the water flows into the floor. Dig project, anyone?

We went onward next towards the sand room. There's a nastily slick spot where you can slide into a stagnant pool along this path. Ben grabbed me because I lack the six-foot span to reach the handholds. He kept me from going into the water once for sure. 

We climbed down into the lower slot and went on to the sand room, soaking wet and covered in grit soon after. I had explored all reaches of the room before, so I didn't feel the need to see every slope again. I sat down and drank in the room while Ben and Nate climbed into the new-to-them spots. I love the bacterial colonies on the rocks and the water droplets sparkling in my light. 

After sitting still for a few minutes, I let Ben know that he was going to have to snuggle me if we didn't get moving. Hypothermia is a not insignificant risk after you've been drenched in cave water. 

(We'd all been wearing masks, too. And that was drenched as well. So far, I have had no difficulty caving in a mask, but if they get wet, you can't breathe in them so easily anymore. I stubbornly kept it on until we got out of the cave, when I got some distance on the trail from Nate.)

We retraced our steps, and I made it through the crawl without panicking this time. I went first to set up for photos. 

                     Ben in the misery. 

And we were out in short order after the crawl was done. Every time I go back, my memories have something new to coat over my past. And this time, it's a feeling of beauty and of compassion as Ben quietly helped me, almost so that no one knew I needed help.