Limrock Cave

Ben and I took the kids to Limrock Cave today with Amata and Brian. It's always amazing to have more adults than kids on a trip, so we happily accepted their trip invitation. 

My daughter wears out quickly on cave trips, so we'd discussed splitting groups when she became tired along the way. The water was low near the entrance, nothing to worry about, and we stoop walked into the cave, soon hearing the first waterfall pounding the rocks. I longed to stay and soak in the sight, but my crazy kids were unamused that the cave is sucking cold air in near the entrance at this time of year. 

Brian walked down the rickety metal beam near the entrance, and I instructed the younger kids in sliding down the bank into the stream. Alex was immediately dismayed. You may not know this, but water is wet. And cave water is cold and wet. He paused at every stream crossing and whined as the rest of us either accepted that feet get wet while caving (or were wearing knee-high boots). Lilly pranced through the streams thrilled with her hot pink galoshes--because the water wasn't over the top...yet. 

We made it to our first turn to avoid the stream passage continuation, and Alex was still devastated about the wet shoe situation. I offered to go back to the car with him, but he said he didn't want that. However, we did remove the boots, dump the water out, and continue on with grousing. For once, I was ready to just walk in the water, and my son wanted someone to crawl atop the clay banks near the ceiling with him to stay out of the water. So, away I went. 

We went the crawly way on to the lovely rimstone dams, and we made it to the waterfall and 70-foot dome. After that, we fed the kids because Alex was ready to have a tantrum. (A lot of that is hanger with him.) And all spirits were higher after that.

Photo taken by Amata Hinkle of Sunguramy Photography. 

We continued on through The Raceway. And I pointed out the places people had grafittied to the kids and discussed why we shouldn't do this...for the umpteenth time. It seemed worse than I remembered with huge scratches into the ceiling for no good reason. In some ways, the scratches are worse. They are harder to clean and hide. And the more grafittied a place is, the more people think it's okay to leave their mark, too. 

By the time we got to the register room, Lilly and Alex were flagging. Lilly had continued because Ben had promised her a candy bar at the halfway point. Ben added our names to the notebook in the register, and Brian, Alex, Lilly, and I headed back out. Aiden and Ben had never been to the end of the cave and wanted to go all of the way through the second breakdown. 

A crystalized crinoid. Photo by Amata Hinkle. 

Photo by Amata Hinkle. 

We took the kids on a detour on the way out to Caramel Falls. That view never gets old for me; the way the water carved away the stone layers until they look like wood grain is breathtaking. 

But Lilly got her feet wet on the way. The water finally went over the top of her boots, and she reacted exactly as her brother did. I think she barely noticed the flabbergasting view because she instantly had to empty the boots. 😆

We squelched in our sloshy boots the rest of the way out and hiked the short distance to the car, beginning the long wait. Three interminable hours later, we saw headlights in the darkness coming towards the car. Aiden was on cloud nine because he got to finally go somewhere only grownups usually got to go. And the most relatable pose is the one Ben is currently striking. 

As usual, many thanks to Amata and Brian for the company and awesome photos! And we are always grateful to the SCCi for preserving caves for future generations. 

Rusty's Cave--Trip 2

Caving has been different with PTSD. Since my attack, I thought so many kinds of things. I thought maybe if I caved, I would feel like myself again. I beat myself up for not loving everything I used to love. And over the last year, I have finally put my finger on my love/hate relationship with caving. 

I was always petrified of heights, but I enjoyed overcoming my fear before. I felt the adrenaline rush and loved it. But now my body is always full of adrenaline. My body always thinks we might die, someone might kill us, no matter what I am doing. Now, adding extra adrenaline has meant panic attacks at times. 

I have had peaceful trips with my kids, never doing anything too scary. And I have overcome discomfort on rope to teach Ben how to rappel, to belay him at the bottom of pits. But I still crave cautious trips. Today's choice seemed to fit that bill. I remembered Rusty's Cave as an easy, happy trip. We got our permit beforehand, and we ventured out early this morning. It's a bit of a drive, so we got to the preserve at 10:00. After turning too soon, we had some bushwhacking to make it to the pit entrance. (Alexander had the forethought to plug coordinates into his app before we left.) 

The pit entrance was as I remembered it, but there was a bolt this time for easier rigging. Alexander rappelled first, followed by Ben. I talked Ben through everything. It was his second vertical cave rappel, and I worried, though I shouldn't have. 

I have more vertical experience than the others, so I went last. But it all feels new after the attack, new with PTSD on top of old fears. And I was shaky and determined as I rigged in. I tested my rack and rappelled the 35 feet to the others. The drop is close for half and then opens up to a free hang for the last 15 feet or so. 

We took off our gear when we landed in the stream, no further vertical required. I insisted we go to the right and see the formation galleries I remembered. I craved beautiful sights along the way. And quickly I was rewarded with columns and draperies. A bit of scrambling over breakdown yielded a forest of formations and soda straws.

I played with catching water droplets in photos until Alexander and Ben lost all patience and insisted we move on. (There's more cave!) 

I loved the microrimstone and every pristine white formation. I am choosing to see hope in the heavily trafficked places that everyone still leaves untouched. 

This is Alexander's wall. "Brandi, you've got to appreciate these layers. It's geology!" It also happens to be where we had lunch. 

I loved this dome. I crawled through a watery spot and into a constant rain to see it. And the guys are standing in the drips to light it all up. 

Here are the guys standing in the drip zone. They were mostly good natured about being my lighting crew. 

And the pictures stop here, but the story doesn't. I don't do well with heights anymore. I used to straddle canyons in Fern, but I always hated exposure. I took time with careful placement of feet and hands not nearly as long as Ben's, as I followed in giant footsteps. There were no serious drops, probably never more than 20 feet. But it was still that extra adrenaline in my flooded system. We made it into a crawl area with stream and cobbles. I opted to not continue while Alexander and Ben relished the misery. I stayed behind in a warm spot with the only bat I saw. And I reviewed my photos, thrilled with my progress. 

I was tired as we routed and turned back to the entrance, but still in good spirits until we got back to the dome and canyon section. We did a lot of up and down through there to find the best route earlier. And I was frustrated because the guys told me to climb up and then decided about three steps later that I should really stay down. *Facepalm* I haven't learned my PTSD adrenaline/cave limit yet. I had a panic attack today on the ledge when I had to get back down after. To their credit, Ben held me, and Alexander produced a Snickers when I was not at my best. 

I remained at the lower, grabbier, tighter level as much as I could. And I barely noticed the formations that enthralled me before. We got back to our gear pile, and Ben climbed out first. I went next, and I was grateful to frog out. I felt so sure on the rope, climbing back to the top. Then, Alexander made it out, and we packed up. Our hike out was much easier than going in because we had a trail this time. And my spirits were a bit lifted to make it to the car before dark. (Unlike so many Byars trips before!)

Many thanks to Ben and Alexander for working with me and to the Southeast Cave Conservancy for preserving caves for all. If you enjoyed my photos and trip report, please consider donating to the SCCi here.