Explore a cave badge...

I went to Portland to visit my sister for her 30^th birthday. She and her fiancé John have been out there less than a week. They have a cute apartment in a nice neighborhood, close to the train and the bus, and near some nice places to eat and drink, a golf course and parks.

But I don’t feel like writing about that. Because when I went to visit, I crossed off an old goal that I have long felt I’d been cheated out of achieving. It was a Girl Scout badge. I was only a Girl Scout for a year. I quit when I realized my radical feminist agenda didn’t mix with the girls of my troop. Well it manifested it a single vote.

I was inner city Girl Scouts in Worcester, MA. I only mention this because the Girl Scouts in the more affluent neighborhoods seriously rock. They take trips to Paris. They have camps at dude ranches. They go the Grand Canyon. We made lousy crafts that a good percentage of the time my mom send me in with the instructions and the supplies to do them. I could do that stuff at home. Maybe the other girls couldn’t but I could, so I wasn’t impressed. I wanted to learn how to tie knots, and recognized poisonous plants, and learn tricks to mark a path to find your way home. I wanted to be a scout of some sort. But more than anything. I wanted badges. In the year I was there, we worked on one badge. One.

It was a big deal our one badge. We voted on what it would be. There we three choices:

Explore a Cave Badge

Climb a Mountain Badge

Babysitting Badge

I would have settled for that Climb a Mountain Badge. There are only little mountains around us, but it would be fun. But I was gunning for that Cave Badge! A cave! That’s scary and exciting! Anything except for the Babysitting badge. Out of our troop there were two hands up for the cave. None for the mountain and the rest were for the Babysitting badge. Those traitorous girls! How wretched! How gender rolled they all were! Did none of them crave adventure? My best friend was the only one who supported me. The rest were more concerned with changing diapers. We were too young to even learn CPR. And I never explored a cave.

Until now.

It was my first trip up to Portland, OR and Beth thought it might be cool to drive up to Mt. St. Helen. And hike around look at the volcano etc. Except it’s not really the season for that. Roads were closed and not everything was open. But Ape Cave is up there and Lava Canyon, so we thought we’d see those at the very least. We dressed in layers and I had thin fleece gloves on, and a fleece jacket, a sweatshirt and leather shoes, not boots, not sneakers… shoes. We each had a small LED flashlight. Beth and John had sneakers on, and Beth had thin fashion gloves, poor John had no gloves.

When we got to Ape Cave it had started to rain, well, sleet and hail a bit. And we raced to cave to get out of the rain. You can count that as our first mistake. Because it was raining just as hard in the cave as it was outside. It was pitch black and wet. We turned our flashlights on they were bright and strong and utterly necessary. And we looked at the sign. Or rather Beth and John looked at the sign. It was supposed to read “Upper Cave Difficult walking 1 ½ MI to Upper Entrance, Return Trail on surface.” But something must have rusted out the 1… so we thought this was a half mile trail. And difficult walk might have been a misnomer two as this was definitely a hike, or even at times a climb. Maybe the people of Washington are just tougher than us New Englanders. Or maybe they have special shoes that allow them to walk up walls. But you couldn’t really walk this.

So let’s review. None of us are wearing waterproof anything. We have not signed in or registered anywhere, so no one knows where we are. John has no gloves. I have shoes on, not sneakers, and I’m carrying my purse. We think it’s a half mile walk. And we are in a pitch black cave. I think that’s the making of a horror movie. Unprepared hikers with a cavalier attitude climb into a cave to escape the rain. Can you see something going wrong?

So we walk along easy enough, and suddenly there is this huge pile of rocks to climb over. Sort of. It looks like you can go around them. But you can’t. You have to climb over it. Beth and John scramble over like monkeys. Me being of little balance, stagger over reaching down frequently to steady myself before I fall. But it’s fun and easy and fun the first five or six times we hit these big piles of rocks. It turns out in varying degrees of difficulty there are 27 of these boulder piles to climb over.

Let me blog this timeline style.

5 minutes into the cave – our first boulder pile. Oh look we get to climb on the rocks. Oh well, that’s fun… oh crap that rock was wet, well. One wet glove isn’t too bad. My flashlight hand is still dry. That’s good.

20 minutes into the cave – flat flat flat, boulder boulder boulder, flat flat flat.

30 minutes into the cave – Beth tells us she hears a waterfall. I wonder if we’ll have to exit trough it. Maybe we just pass behind it. I don’t see a waterfall but it’s really loud now. Oh that’s because it’s pouring rain inside the cave here. Pouring. I flip up my hood and we run through and I wonder how waterproof these flashlights are. It’s pitch black in here without them.

40 minutes into cave – Oh crap, I’m getting hot. I take off my hat and jamb it into my pocket.

50 minutes into the cave – I am so sick of this hood cutting of my peripheral vision. I reach up to flip it back. What the? Three more time I reach up before I realize I had already taken off my hood. It’s the arc of the flashlight that rounds off into perfect darkness. It’s like having blinders on.

60 minutes into the cave – Each of us is having private thoughts about how long a half mile is. Even a difficult half mile should have surfaced by now. Beth has now taken the lead and is scouting ahead. I can see her light in the distance. I keep hoping it’s daylight. But I know better. I want to rest but the end has to be near.

1 hour 15 minutes into the cave – Oh no. No no no no no. I am not climbing up that rock path with the twelve foot drop on the left side. I’ll just squish through the right side. Right, note to self, 5 inches isn’t the width of any part of me. I manage to squish through the tight rock and climb over the rest. It takes me about 10 minutes, I’m wet but not cold. I am getting tired. How much longer can this half mile be?

1 hour 30 minutes in the cave – Beth comes back from her scouting mission and tells me not to panic. Too late! I’m panicking! Oh no! Oh no! What horror is about to about to befall me? I’ll tell you what horror. It looked like a bad movie set. In the darkness there was a wall and 8 feet up the cave continued. Hanging down was an old rope to help you up. It had a couple of knots and a loop, and looked old and frayed. There was no way I was getting up there. And Beth knew it. I’m not a real upper body strength kind of person. Beth scrambled up like a monkey. I stood there shaking my head. There was a single foothold to the left side, about 3 and half of the ground. From there you get to pull yourself up the rope and then… I have no clue what then! There are only imaginary footholds that John keeps pointing to that I can reach and that my feet slide off of. It’s not working. I have no way to get up. John offers my his hands to step on but I think that would be too unstable. I’m too heavy for that. I’m not comfortable with that. Beth decides the rope loop needs more knots. Then I can climb it like a ladder. It works, but not quite the way we thought. The knots shorten the rope and once John helps me get my foot into the bottom loop I push up into the rope I can get my knee high enough to pull myself up to top. I will never be able to get down this way. John scrambles up after me with a jaunty look of that’s easy. Both and John have both been real champs helping here but I feel a sense of self loathing growing. I hate not being able to keep up. I hate them for making it look easy. I hate them for not being tired. I feel like a failure. I hope to hell that was hardest part of the cave.

1 hour 40 minutes into the cave – Beth and John are ahead and I’m feeling down. I look up at one of the 27 piles of boulders I have to climb up, and it looks like the cave divides into two parts. I tell myself if it does I’m going to sit down and wait until they come back for me. But it’s only one cave. I press on. This ½ mile trial has been going on too long. How much longer would the trial actually be?

1 hour 50 minutes into the cave – I’m reminding myself to practice ahimsa – non violence. In yoga we are often told to practice ahimsa, non violence to yourself, both physically and mentally. I’m having a debate with my inner voices. The devil on my shoulder is hissing “Where’s your yoga now?” and angel keeps whispering “This mental violence isn’t helping. Practice ahimsa.” I go back and forth listening to both voices.

2 hours in into the cave – Oh shit. John just scrambled up this rock and wall formation that looks tricky if not impossible. Beth follows and gets stuck for a minute or so. My skinny little sister just got stuck in the tiny 3 and half foot tall opening that you have to squeeze through as you pull yourself up. Did I mention the cave wall curling down over you as you do this? On the bright side there is an enormous foothold on the side of the wall. Unfortunately that places your feet in the opposite direction that your torso has to go to hold on pull yourself up. I try getting my foot into the opening, but it pitches me back and I can barely hold onto the rock with my hand. I wedge my knee in, but my torso can’t fit into the crevasse. I wedge myself in as far as I can and start freaking out. I climb back down and Beth comes to rescue!

2 hours 5 minutes into the cave – I climb back up to my wedged position and Beth looks for ways to help me from below. We joke a lot at this point. It looks like this will just be impossible. I can’t flip my foot to push off of and my back foot is just useless. Beth tries to help me place it but my hips are tight and my legs aren’t flexible. I struggle. But I’m now firmly wedge in. I can lift my arms and one leg and be entirely secure. I laugh and tell them I’m lengthening form my spine and maybe if I break a couple of ribs I could do this.

2 hours and 10 minutes into the cave. I’m still stuck but my feet are closer to each other. I push hard with my back leg and my foot keeps sliding off and almost kicking Beth. Determined to help me she patiently catches my foot and tries to place it back for me. I’m exhausted. But all of our spirits seem to be holding. As long as I keep trying Beth is unbelievably supportive of me. How she could be so encouraging when this was going so wrong I’ll never understand. Really John too. He’s patiently waiting at the top looking to see if there is a better way and laughing joking. It really makes a bad situation a million times better. I keep pressing down with me back foot and pulling myself up on rock.

2 hours and 15 minutes into the cave – Something magic happens. Suddenly I’m getting the pressure I need on my back foot. I’m able to flip my front foot and push myself into the space. I’m free! Hurray!!! Thank god!

2 hours and 15 minutes and 15 seconds into the cave – Are you kidding me? The very next thing… THE VERY NEXT THING is this enormous rock that you have to climb over. I manage to flop myself onto the rock and roll off the other side. Take that rock! My spirits are officially lifted.

2 hours and 20 minutes into the cave – John shouts I found the exit! We scurry forward and see light! Light! From a skylight 45 feet up! There is a long skinny tree trunk to help you climb. You have got to be kidding me. I would never in a million years be able to climb this. I would die trying. And I can’t go back, I wouldn’t be able to climb down the way I came up. I could picture Beth and John scurrying up. We decide that there has to be another way.

2 hours and 30 minutes into the cave. John shouts he found the real exit! I tell him I don’t believe him. I’ve been down this path before. And we see it. A ladder about 8 feet off the ground. REALLY? No it’s just the shadows. The ladder goes down to the ground. As we climb up I ask John to let me go before him. He is a gentlemen and I explain that the cave trolls always get the last one up the ladder. I never said I was nice!

When we get outside it’s sleeting and snowing. We walk back the “half mile” in a wet sleeting rain, thoroughly soaking us. Which takes us about 40 – 45 minutes and where we see the entrance of the cave. The kiosk that we had run past in our haste explains the hike we had just been on. It was a mile and half, included 27 boulder piles an 8 ft lava fall and a dangerous skylight that people have been seriously injured trying to climb up. I wouldn’t have attempted it if I had known how hard it was. I’m glad we didn’t because it was fun. Despite the rough spots, or maybe because of the rough spots I think it was the highlight of everyone’s week. If you choose to go to Ape Cave, they recommend you bring the following things.

• Three sources of light – Clean-burning lanterns (propane or white gas) or flashlights with strong batteries and bright bulbs.
• Sturdy shoes/boots – The lava tube floor is uneven and covered with jagged rocks.
• Warm clothing – The temperature remains near 42ºF/6ºC year round. It can also be windy and wet in the lava tube.
• A friend – Also, let someone else know where you are going and for how long.

I finally earned my Explore a Cave Badge! Take that stupid babysitters badge! It was long time coming but it was really worth the wait. It’s like what dad used to say… whatever doesn’t kill you makes a great story.