Beyond Mammoth Cave by Borden James D.; Brucker Roger W.; Heslop Linda

Author:Borden, James D.; Brucker, Roger W.; Heslop, Linda
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Southern Illinois University Press

Don smiled. “How was your trip? Find much?”

Pete looked exhausted. “We didn’t make it to the wet lead—forgot the Mylar notebook.”

“So where did you go?”

“Where else? We ended up pushing the breakdown pile that Zopf found.”

Don’s heart sank. Did they make the connection? He bit his lower lip and asked as calmly as he could, “Find anything?”

“Surveyed about twelve hundred feet. More breakdown, but it still goes, and it’s really complicated.”

“Sorry about the notebook. I think we’re going to continue your survey into the breakdown. It’s gotta go somewhere,” Don mused.

Pete’s party had started up the hill. “Good luck,” Pete shouted back. Then they were gone.

The connection was still to be made!

Later, as they were walking through the woods, Pete recalled the mysterious footprints, a little detail he had forgotten to tell Don. He shrugged his shoulders. It probably was not important.

Proctor Cave blew a lot of air in the summer months. The four cavers cooled off in the breeze as they fired up their lamps and cinched their packs.

Clang! The ancient entrance gate slammed shut behind them. This was the trip. Don and Sheri smiled in anticipation of what the day might bring.

Many hours later, the elation of their anticipated connection had crumbled away under the weight of the breakdown pile. Throughout the day, they had surveyed about fifteen hundred feet but, like Pete’s party, had failed to find the other end of the breakdown. No connection was apparent. Although the unsurveyed leads seemed abundant, none seemed promising. The day was winding down. They had run their survey into a low side passage that looked like it would be just another of many cutarounds. After a few feet, several small holes led off.

The party split to check for leads. Art Palmer entered a virgin passage that grew smaller. After squeezing past some rocks, he saw a footprint, then another. Then he spotted a large turd! Art puzzled over its origin. Could it have been left by one of the other three in his party? Or by another party? Art’s cave sense told him that he had penetrated far into the breakdown and this should be virgin cave. Maybe Pete’s party had explored farther than he thought, reaching this spot from some other route. No explanation was apparent, and to ask the others if anyone had taken a crap would be in bad taste, so he resolved to keep silent when he returned.

Don, meanwhile, was crawling in another small passage, trying to follow the elusive breeze. Shortly, he joined another, larger passage that led farther into the breakdown. On the mud floor, he found footprints leading left and right. Footprints! His mind numbed with disorientation. Where did they come from? The set of prints to the right finally ended at an obscure hole that Don followed back to surveyed cave. To the left, the passage was clogged with rocks, the muddy footprints leading upward. Don began to squeeze upward into the rocks. An idea struck. Up! Maybe this was the answer.

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