Stephens Gap Wedding

I didn't want to get married at Stephens Gap. I tried to talk Ben into other places. But he can be tenacious, and I would give him the world, so he won. Stephens Gap used to be a wonderland for me, my favorite cave, my favorite pulldown. 

But I have since almost died in the pulldown on a high water day. I got swept over the edge in a raging waterfall, and I had to be hoisted back up because I didn't have the strength to fight against the water. And I also responded to three body recoveries in the cave over the years. I try not to remember the details when I look at the main pit. It's much easier in the day time because rescues are usually at night when people realize someone has not come back. I used to set aside all of my feelings to keep my fellow rescuers safe. But PTSD has wrecked my ability to manage adrenaline, and I worried about this plan. 

I agreed to do what Ben wanted, but I knew I couldn't actually rappel over the very exposed edge into a pit I have pulled so many out of. So, what y'all didn't see is that I didn't actually rappel from the keyhole to the pedestal in my floofy dress. 

Here's the actual sequence of events: 

1. Rigging floofy dress for safely rappelling. 

I wanted to wear black, and I already owned a black dress that would work. I saw no point in buying something that I would damage. So, no shopping required. I decided that there was no way to do this that didn't involve wearing leggings and then the harness with the dress over it all. The problem is that you need a place for the rope to go between your legs when you climb and rappel, and you need a place for the gear to emerge. I decided I wanted a reverse bustle of sorts, and Ben and I tied up the front of the dress, rolled up, with paracord. My harness and gear were beneath it, with the exception of my croll.  (chest attachment) 

I like to call this picture--"Are you seriously not going to help me get out of this nonsense?!" 😆 But you can see the dress rolled up with the harness beneath. I wore black leggings the day of because I am *so* stylish. 

2. Getting there with gear and rigging. 

We had to hike in with ropes, vertical gear, and formal wear. Even with our friends along, it was a lot. 

Amata also surprised me with something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. 

Brian rigged the main rope while Ben and I changed into formal wear and worked with Amata below. 

She rigged the safety line to the pedestal. The pedestal seems safe to people to climb to, but it's 50 feet to the ground. I will take no chances; I used ascenders to clip to the rope and downclimb so that I didn't die from tripping on the floofy dress. Amata and Brian also brought radios so that we had a prayer of communicating over the raging water. 

3. Having a plan for getting the photos efficiently. 

I knew I couldn't do that long rappel into the pit in the pile of delicate fabric. So, I climbed down on the safety line to the pedestal. Then, I frogged up to the point Amata motioned to. (Radios were not so useful with the water raging like it was. But Amata is amazing with signs and making new ones up.) I changed over eventually and did the world's slowest rappel for photos. The groom had plenty of time to crack jokes on the pedestal. 

The dress kept getting caught on the velcro from the knee pads. 

Ben was making me laugh because he'd heard what I was supposed to be doing, and I had done the opposite. Of course. 

Here's that safety line I mentioned. 

And at the end of the trip, Ben rappelled his new deepest pit. 

Overall, I am glad I capitulated. Ben has taken so many places I have terrible memories of and given me such amazing new moments that I am having the world restored to me--cave by cave, room by room. Stephens Gap is no longer a place I have recovered so many from. It's the place I married Ben. And my memory is now like the cave itself--more light than darkness.