An Utter Spastic's Guide to Spelunking
I'm beginning to think I need hobbies that involve sunlight.
There are only two types of cave explorers: There are the Tourists and
there are the Moles. Being a tourist is great! You get to play with all
that sexy, sexy mountain climbing equipment all the time, and after a
while you'll learn to collapse your ribcage so you can crawl through
holes smaller than your skull --like a sewer rat. This is what most
people get into when they take up spelunking as their new hobby.
Pretty much anyone can be a tourist on some level (assuming, of course,
that getting out of the house doesn't involve forklifts and knocking
down a wall or two). Ah, but it takes a special kind of self-masochist
to go dig out all those nifty caves for the tourists, and there in lies
the self-appointed duty of the Mole.
The hierarchy of an archetypal mole grotto starts with the graybeards who have advanced degrees in all sorts of caveology related subjects. They generally spend their time down in the depths soothsaying and divining the direction the tunnel is supposed to be headed based on obscure and arguably arbitrary criteria. Up front with them are the diggers who are, more often than not, the largest and strongest people in the grotto. Whether they are the largest and strongest because they spend their weekends swinging pickaxes and loading up wheelbarrows with clay, dirt and rock is open to question (it can't hurt things though). And finally, interspersed throughout the tunnel is the barrow-brigade. This is probably where you're going to start. You sit next to a wheelbarrow most of the day waiting for the guy in front of you to come down with another load. Then you wheel the load to the next guy, an he wheels it to the next guy an so on until the load makes it to the guys who can't do without trifling things like fresh air and natural light. Then it's dumped somewhere. And that's the grotto. As a whole, it's highly educated, pale, and only a teeny bit insane.
Using the word "cave" in this article is really a misnomer. For all practical purposes Moles deal with tunnels. Typically a grotto will find a cave prone area and then just start digging until they hit something interesting. Moles find themselves wishing for things normal spelunkers wouldn't wish on their worst enemy. A cave-in or sudden vertical drop not only means there's excitement ahead but also means there's the possibility for the big pay off. We're talking grandiose caverns , bizarre crystalline formations, colonies of blind subterranean spiders, intriguing rock formations. There are wonders both eldritch and beautiful in the depths, and the moles are always the first to see them.
It's also the moles' responsibility to preserve, conserve and protect these underground phenomenon from the general public, other cavers, and just people in general. This often takes the form of restorative work on truly ancient mineral formations that have been damaged, taping off clear paths through caves so nothing else gets smashed, and flagging hibernating / roosting bats so they're not accidentally disturbed (a disturbed bat will starve or freeze to death in short order). One of the more interesting projects is gating off the unique environments that are uncovered with makeshift airlocks made out of fifty-five gallon drums. The idea is to preserve the individual pocket habitats as much as possible not just to keep the flora and fauna healthy and happy, but also for the minerals which are almost as alive as anything else in the depths. This is always the work of the mole.
How do you get involved? There are local speleological societies all across this great nation with members who are experienced, educated, and hospitable. You should always go spelunking with these people because otherwise you will die. There are hazards from bad air to rattlesnake dens underground, and your rotting cadaver will make a mess of the microbiological environment. In short, these people are the ones who are going to drag your ass out one way or another. That said, you'll pick up the safety through osmosis just like you'll pick up chemistry, biology, geology, mineralogy, rope work, and the best way to transfer dirt from one wheelbarrow to another in a cramped space. After you have the most basic equipment needed for survival you'll be cave diving and possibly excavating in no time.
Equipment:
Headlamp: Oddly enough this is not just decorative. As it turns out, the caves you'll be going into are really, really dark. A good idea when purchasing a headlamp is to plan ahead and make sure the batteries and bulbs are interchangeable with the other three or four small flashlights you'll be carrying around with you.
Helmet: This is for keeping your headlamp from chaffing your forehead. Typically the new spelunker will show up with an unstylish hardhat, everyone will have a good laugh, and then they'll be handed a spare rock climber's helmet that's been covered with mud and beaten to all hell. This is your new helmet, wear it with pride. You should keep your helmet on at all times because it makes anyone look rugged and sexy when worn in combination with the headlamp.
Jumpsuit: It turns out caves are also dirty. Given, there's always a chance you'll be working in one of those trendy art deco caves, but those have mostly been taken over by crime fighting vigilantes. No one's stopping you from wearing shitty jeans and a ratty sweatshirt, but the old military surplus jumpsuit offers many significant advantages. There's less likelihood of getting snagged on anything, you'll want something you can unzip and throw in the trunk of your car after your dramatic return to the surface, and a drab green jumpsuit is the heighth of subterranean fashion. Besides, they cost less than a dollar at military surplus stores, you cheap bastards.
Twinkie: Because sometimes it gets lonely in the depths. Just be sure to leave no crumbs and pack out the wrapper.
Flashlights: You're going to take several of these. I always took one small maglight attached to the side of my helmet (in addition to the headlamp) and two or three more small flashlights stashed in various pockets about my person. As mentioned before, it's best if the bulbs and batteries are all interchangeable for these. It's also a good idea to take the type of flashlight police beat suspects to death with. Also: pack spare bulbs and batteries. Redundancy is king.
Work Gloves: This ain't no subterranean cotillion, Cupcake. Go get the goddamned wheelbarrow.
The hierarchy of an archetypal mole grotto starts with the graybeards who have advanced degrees in all sorts of caveology related subjects. They generally spend their time down in the depths soothsaying and divining the direction the tunnel is supposed to be headed based on obscure and arguably arbitrary criteria. Up front with them are the diggers who are, more often than not, the largest and strongest people in the grotto. Whether they are the largest and strongest because they spend their weekends swinging pickaxes and loading up wheelbarrows with clay, dirt and rock is open to question (it can't hurt things though). And finally, interspersed throughout the tunnel is the barrow-brigade. This is probably where you're going to start. You sit next to a wheelbarrow most of the day waiting for the guy in front of you to come down with another load. Then you wheel the load to the next guy, an he wheels it to the next guy an so on until the load makes it to the guys who can't do without trifling things like fresh air and natural light. Then it's dumped somewhere. And that's the grotto. As a whole, it's highly educated, pale, and only a teeny bit insane.
Using the word "cave" in this article is really a misnomer. For all practical purposes Moles deal with tunnels. Typically a grotto will find a cave prone area and then just start digging until they hit something interesting. Moles find themselves wishing for things normal spelunkers wouldn't wish on their worst enemy. A cave-in or sudden vertical drop not only means there's excitement ahead but also means there's the possibility for the big pay off. We're talking grandiose caverns , bizarre crystalline formations, colonies of blind subterranean spiders, intriguing rock formations. There are wonders both eldritch and beautiful in the depths, and the moles are always the first to see them.
It's also the moles' responsibility to preserve, conserve and protect these underground phenomenon from the general public, other cavers, and just people in general. This often takes the form of restorative work on truly ancient mineral formations that have been damaged, taping off clear paths through caves so nothing else gets smashed, and flagging hibernating / roosting bats so they're not accidentally disturbed (a disturbed bat will starve or freeze to death in short order). One of the more interesting projects is gating off the unique environments that are uncovered with makeshift airlocks made out of fifty-five gallon drums. The idea is to preserve the individual pocket habitats as much as possible not just to keep the flora and fauna healthy and happy, but also for the minerals which are almost as alive as anything else in the depths. This is always the work of the mole.
How do you get involved? There are local speleological societies all across this great nation with members who are experienced, educated, and hospitable. You should always go spelunking with these people because otherwise you will die. There are hazards from bad air to rattlesnake dens underground, and your rotting cadaver will make a mess of the microbiological environment. In short, these people are the ones who are going to drag your ass out one way or another. That said, you'll pick up the safety through osmosis just like you'll pick up chemistry, biology, geology, mineralogy, rope work, and the best way to transfer dirt from one wheelbarrow to another in a cramped space. After you have the most basic equipment needed for survival you'll be cave diving and possibly excavating in no time.
Equipment:
Headlamp: Oddly enough this is not just decorative. As it turns out, the caves you'll be going into are really, really dark. A good idea when purchasing a headlamp is to plan ahead and make sure the batteries and bulbs are interchangeable with the other three or four small flashlights you'll be carrying around with you.
Helmet: This is for keeping your headlamp from chaffing your forehead. Typically the new spelunker will show up with an unstylish hardhat, everyone will have a good laugh, and then they'll be handed a spare rock climber's helmet that's been covered with mud and beaten to all hell. This is your new helmet, wear it with pride. You should keep your helmet on at all times because it makes anyone look rugged and sexy when worn in combination with the headlamp.
Jumpsuit: It turns out caves are also dirty. Given, there's always a chance you'll be working in one of those trendy art deco caves, but those have mostly been taken over by crime fighting vigilantes. No one's stopping you from wearing shitty jeans and a ratty sweatshirt, but the old military surplus jumpsuit offers many significant advantages. There's less likelihood of getting snagged on anything, you'll want something you can unzip and throw in the trunk of your car after your dramatic return to the surface, and a drab green jumpsuit is the heighth of subterranean fashion. Besides, they cost less than a dollar at military surplus stores, you cheap bastards.
Twinkie: Because sometimes it gets lonely in the depths. Just be sure to leave no crumbs and pack out the wrapper.
Flashlights: You're going to take several of these. I always took one small maglight attached to the side of my helmet (in addition to the headlamp) and two or three more small flashlights stashed in various pockets about my person. As mentioned before, it's best if the bulbs and batteries are all interchangeable for these. It's also a good idea to take the type of flashlight police beat suspects to death with. Also: pack spare bulbs and batteries. Redundancy is king.
Work Gloves: This ain't no subterranean cotillion, Cupcake. Go get the goddamned wheelbarrow.