This weekend, Oct 10, 11, and 12, I went to Somerset, England with the Kent University Caving Club. We stayed in the Wessex Caving Club Hut with other and older people who have been caving most of their lives. I personally, have never been caving ever. The furthest I’ve been in the ground was when my sister and I dug a child size hole in our backyard in California, just so we could play with our Barbies in a mud pit. So needless to say, I was a little apprehensive about this whole thing.
How, you may be asking yourself, did Sagan get herself into this? Well I suppose I should first explain that I have had what the kids here call Fresher’s Flu. This is basically the first sickness of the year that everyone catches from being in such close proximity to one another. I had this flu for a week and a half. It was pretty bad, stayed me in my bed for a couple days, and I couldn’t sleep for coughing. So this was the state I was in. I finally got myself some medicine, basic Tickly Dry Cough Mixture, you know the stuff. Tastes like licorice (sarcasm here, this cough syrup was thick brown and licorice tasting, but sure did quit the cough for a bit). My housemate Brianna was planning on going to this Caving trip and there was a training that night for it. She asked me to come along, just to see if I liked it. Obviously I was like. “no way man, I can barely breath.” But somehow, as I was eating my tomato soup and grilled cheese, she convinced me to come along.
So we go to the Sports Center and up a million flights of stairs to this steep wooden attic, hot as all could be, and we had to try on oversuits for caving. I just did it, because I was so confused and hot and out of my mind. It fit, and they wrote down the size. Someone asked me if I had signed up for the Mendips trip yet. “No.” and your name. I spelled it out, they wrote it on this clipboard and asked me for 10 pounds down payment. Which I gladly handed over.
We trained on ladders so that if you get stuck somewhere or need to go up some rock, you can climb up this ladder. I did alright and we left.
I was really going on this trip. I signed up for it, paid the membership fees. I had to get a sleeping bag and Wellies (hardcore rain boots) I packed up my backpack and we walked to the Sportscenter to board the bus.
First of all, we almost got on the wrong bus, because no one told us which one it was, and they just threw our gear on the bus and told us to get on without checking our names. One of the cavers walked up and was like “You’re going mountaineering this weekend?” and Bri and I jumped off the bus and got our stuff out of the back. We waited around for an hour and finally got on the caving bus. The treasurer, Olee, sat in back with us and made us sing caving songs and children songs, and taught us how to tie all kinds of knots. Not that we needed to know, but he just wanted to teach us. It was a 4 hour drive, most people in the car were drinking pints in anticipation of the party later that night. I thought it strange to be drinking in a moving vehicle, so I waited until we arrived at the hut.
We got lost when we entered the town of Cheddar, Mendips, in Somerset. The driver, G, had no idea where he was going even though he had been here at least 3 times before. We drive in circles for some 30 minutes, everyone was getting really anxious, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. We got there soon enough.
Unloaded the van and carried out personal kits into ten bunks all girls, cold and a little grimy, but comfortable enough. Met back in the living area where there was a wood burning stove and old cavers drinking pints and talking about their most recent or planned excursion. They all wore fleece jumpers and seemed to have known each other for years. I felt a little awkward breaking into their circle without ever having caved myself, but everyone was incredibly welcoming.
We started playing games right off. There is one called the Squeeze Machine. This is two planks of wood connected by long screws that tightened. The objective of the game was to pass this around to everyone and tighten it on each turn and see who could squeeze their bodies through the smallest gap. I unfortunately has to dip out pretty quick because my chest got quite in the way, but Bri went pretty far. And our new friend Ole got down to the size of a beer can, which is apparently some record. — this may sound like a really strange game without explaining the purpose. The leaders wanted to see how far we would push ourselves to get through tight spaces. To make sure that we wouldn’t be scared while in the caves. — Next we played the carabiner game, where one caver straddled another and had to lean back to undo a carabiner just out of their reach. This was to see how far you could hold your strength to help a friend. Bri and I were knocked out quickly, we had an unfair height advantage compared to everyone else (Bri is about 5’2″, and she couldn’t really hold my weight). Soon enough we all went off to bed to catch a little sleep before caving in the morning.
Woke up about 8AM, breakfast (traditional English sausage, egg, beans, potato cake, tea) was delicious. We got our gear together and waited around outside for everything to be set. Piled in the van and were off to our first destination, a caving shop in Cheddar. Apparently there are only 4 caving shops in the country, and two of them are next door to each other, so the leaders of the trip always take the opportunity to go shopping when they can, at least that’s what I assume. We park too far away and have to walk for about half an hour. We arrive and I am not impressed or interested, neither are the other freshers. We have no need for these things, yet. We have never been in the caves. So we stand outside in the hot October sun in our fleeces and running tights, breathing heavily and pining for water. I have this Joanna Newsome song stuck in my head “Everyday we talk about mercy/ Bring me to water Lord, I sure am thirsty.” I keep singing it over and over, walking round in circles and looking at this dog who is tied up outside the caving shop. Finally we leave, and someone has driven the van up closer. I’m talking to this girl about British Comedy, which is nice to talk to someone who knows firsthand about these things. She gives me some good advice on shows to watch, although I must admit that I have forgotten nearly all of them.
We’re arrive at the site of caving. Pile out and find our kits, Suit up and take a picture of all everyone around the van. Ready, are we ready? We’re ready.
We hike up a bit, it’s really hard to hike in these thick Wellies and stiff oversuits, helmets, and belts. I feel like an alien, some kind of nuclear inspector of the wilderness. But we push on and get to this gap in the Earth. One of our group members can’t seem to figure out how to put on his helmet around his hair. We have this Scotsman named Martin (Martin is actually Irish, I apologize for the confusion), who has been caving for 20 years. He figures out how to keep the battery pack on and get the thing to stay on the guys head. And we enter.
We can walk upright at first, the floor is slippery, I would hate to fall, I think. Right here when we enter, I would feel like an idiot. I am preceded by Martin, Chris (helmet boy), Bri, Louise (a leader) and followed by the other leader Eliot. The leaders are on edge, watching our every moves to make sure that we are comfortable and aren’t tossing ourselves down some terribly deep hole. — the cavern starts to narrow. We have to walk with knees bent. We get to a juncture where we have to go down a vertical tunnel. Martin and Bri go first, Then chris climbs in. He’s the only person I see go down. He is going to slow and then he looks up at me, his light shining directly in my eyes, and he has this look of absolute panic on his face. I turn away from the tunnel ” i don’t think I can do that” Louise is behind me now. “Do you want me to go first?” “i don’t know, I just don’t know if i can do that” “Just wait until he gets all the way down, it’s scary to go when your way is blocked.” “I just don’t know” and he slip down to the bottom and crawls out of the way. Now Eliot is beside me, “Are you ok Sagan?” “yeah” and I climb into the hole. Because I can’t stand to be unable to do things that other people can do. I look around at any other tunnel down, but this is the only one, and I have to follow everyone. I slip down and brace myself with my bottom against the walls, MI slide down easily and am at the bottom in less than 5 seconds. Completely untarnished, safe and sound. I breath deeply, having narrowly escaped a panic attack. I climb into the larger cavern with Bri, Martin and Chris, they are looking at some formations and I join them. Completely fine.
We crawl around more and more, and I am soon unfazed by the actions required of me, through tiny tunnels with my face in the mud, up steep walls with few hand holds, over crevices that could certainly lead to discomfort. All the way the leaders and Martin are looking out for us, tossing me over things that I can’t reach and giving advice as to where to put what. We climb out and drink fresh water from a spring, This was GoatChurch. We go down the hill to Pierre’s Pot and do the same thing all over again. I would describe bit by bit, but I think that it would be interesting to me alone, just remembering all the things I climbed over and under and the cave moths and all that.
We go back to the van and no one is there yet, we check out this other cave where they found wooly rhino bones or something like that. It is mostly shut off so that no one can mess about with the artifacts. We go back to the van, half undressed for the heat. Lay down in the grass to take off the Wellies, but someone else (still caving) has the keys so we have to sit around and look up this mountain face in front of us and resist the urge to climb it. Eliot walks up it aways, I pick some flowers and pace about until the rest of the group shows up and we can change out of our wet clothes, pack them up and pile in the van.
Back to the hut, some people shower, I don’t because I have short hair that I had tied up and didn’t really get dirty anyway. I drink some tea, and they start preparing dinner. Spaghetti Bolognese (which is quite popular around here) that luckily is made with Penne (if anyone knows my absolute disdain for spaghetti noodles). There is a vegetarian option, which I opt for, being that the meat was prepared quite shoddily. We all eat vigorously for our de-energized bodies crave the carbs. Pack all the dishes back in the kitchen, start to clean up. The leaders don’t do much cleaning because they usually take care of the cooking, so it is the freshers left with the dishes. I start cleaning, and Kim, the girl I was talking to about British comedy, asks if she can take over, so I let her and sit in the living space with a cup of tea. Later on, one of the leaders comes out and tells the group I am sitting with to help clean the kitchen. Even though I already did my part, my curiosity and I can do anything better than you attitude kicks in and I enter the kitchen. Kim has barely done any of the dishes, which is understandable because there are huge piles of quite caked on mess, but as I have heavy traffic dishwashing experience, I ask if I can help and step in again with Bri. We knock out the dishes just before the leaders ask if we want to go to the pub in town. I am feeling quite tired and unsure if I want to go, but Bri insists, so I go.
The pub is small and full of locals and local ales and cider. I go for a Pear cider which is phenomenal. Sweet, but not too sweet. Bubbly and refreshing. We take up a whole back room, sitting back and talking about our days. I go up to get another drink, and a group has formed to play a game of 21. They ask me to join, and as I have little else to do, I agree and get someone else to buy my drink while I learn the rules. First of all there are International Rules: you can’t say drinking, drink, drunk, drank, or any derivative. You cannot point at people with your fingers (must use elbows) you can only drink with your left hand, and you can’t say anyone’s actual name, you can only call them by a word that starts with the same letter as their name. That’s just the basics. Then there is the game of 21. You go around in a circle and try to count to 21. The person who says 21 has to drink four fingers of their drink and make up a new additional rule. The catch is that if you say 1-2 for instance, you reverse the direction, if you say 1-2-3, you skip one person. If you just say 1, it goes to the person in your right. If anyone messes up, they have to take a drink and it starts all over again. After you reach 21, then, someone makes up another rule, like Every time you are supposed to say a multiple of 5, you have to say 50 instead, or Everyone can only talk in falsetto. — You can guess that this game was quite difficult and complicated after awhile, with people yelling that so and so just broke this and that a rule and has to take a drink. After about 3 rounds, the group can barely get to 21. But it was a good time, and we stayed until the pub closed. Walked back in the thick English fog, barely able to see more than five feet in front of you. I was walking with this kid named Milky, who had a head lamp. So we could see much further than the rest. Bri and another guy, Victor, ran in front of us, we though they missed the turn to the hut so we sent some people after them. Turns out they were waiting in the hut all along, we called the guys and they came back. Some people made cheese toasties for everyone, which were warm and quite welcome on the emptying stomach. A group tried to start a game of truth or dare, asked me to join. I stayed in long enough to make Bri run around pretending that she was a Unicorn, then snuck off to bed to get ready for the next day.
breakfast again, and we have assigned groups. I am going with 4 other people to a cave called GB. We have to sign Waivers because it is on private property, and housed under a locked gate. I sign the papers and get ready. The other groups are staying close to the hut to do some submerged caving, so we take the van and drive out into the country. It is a long drive, and the cavers have this thing where they play reallly bad pop music as loud as they can. They don’t even change the station when it is fuzzing out. Could drive a woman crazy!
The driver- Mike the President- gets lost, we have to turn around again and again in this massive van. I don’t mind though. I am quite tired and can use all the time to rest. I am with Mike, Kelly (his girlfriend), Victor and Romy. Sit back and admire the view. Finally we pull up to what looks like just a huge expanse of field. We’re out and suit up. Walk across the fields to a hidden door in the Earth. There is another group ahead of us, so we wait back a bit and let them go before us. It’s muddy as hell outside the door and we’re slipping as we climb down the ladder to the hole in the ground. It looks like it has literally been carved out of cement. Down a small tunnel. Through a tunnel as wide as my shoulders, and we emerge on the other side to a HUGE CAVERN. This is the Main Chamber. There are formations everywhere, The walls are glittering with mineral deposits, foggy white like marshmallows melting down the walls, Victor Romy and I are in awe. We look up and around us, start walking forward over jagged rocks, just oohing and awwing, and flabbergasted that this all exist under the Earth.
most of the cave was like that. We stayed in for about 2 and half hours. Climbed up a forty foot tall water fall. Wet and tired but so happy to be surrounded by the beauty. So tired on the way out it is tired to lift myself up. We exit and walk out to the grassy field. It is surreal to be in the open world like that. Victor and I lay down in the tall grass and wait for Mike and Kelly to come out. Romy is at the van taking off her wet oversuit. We’re just laying there in the grass. “That was so amazing.” “I could do this forever.” We were officially converted to caving then and there.
We went back to the hut and unloaded, ate some lunch, washed out kits and loaded back in the van for another four hour drive. Everyone is sore and tired so a lot of us sleep, exchange back rubs and talk about our time, make plans for the next trips. I get back and jump into the shower, and admire my bruises. I have more than I can count. But they are good bruises, bruises of success. Bruises of pure joy, Thank God I went caving, I think.
Things I have never done may be what mostly pleases me.
Yes!
