Cave Dweller

I chanced upon the word spelunking today, and it brought forth a long forgotten memory of an adventure.

In my early twenties I once went spelunking. Yep, cautious Annette, who lived life straight out of  "The Worst Case Scenario" went cave diving.

I went on the invitation of a neighbor and his friend. I had not known either guy long enough to go share a cup of coffee, much less descend twenty feet down a limestone pit deep into the ground.

But one spring evening my neighbor tapped on my screen door, and invited me to a party at a friend's house in another area of town. It sounded like more fun than spending another evening sitting with my roommate's cats; listening to the crazy preacher, at the church across the street, speaking in tongues.

It was pitch dark when we turned off the main road and began bumping along a dirt trail that cut through seemingly empty land. In the distance I saw a pinprick of light between the trees. As we drove up the light streamed out through the windows of a small ranch house, and the booming bass of the stereo came through an open door.

We sat around and drank beer and talked far into the night. My neighbor asked about the caves. His buddy told him that only one was still accessible on the property. They quickly hatched a plan to go exploring in the morning. Slightly drunk, and feeling brave, I agreed to go along.

The next morning we drank coffee, took aspirin for our headaches, and set out for the cave. By this time I was beginning to regret my hasty decision to go underground.

What if there were spiders, or snakes? Nah, they assured me, it's too cold for snakes. They stay above ground nearer to sunlight. That did not ease my growing anxiety.

When he stopped the car in the middle of a field. I didn't see a cave. We got out, and walked fifty feet from the car. Suddenly over a slight rise a fissure in the earth appeared, dark and forbidding. What exactly had I got myself into?

The guys dropped the rope down the hole and my neighbor easily shimmied down into the cave. He flicked on a flashlight, and as I cautiously peered over the edge he illuminated the walls. No spiders and no snakes he declared. 

Now it was my turn. I grasped the rope and slowly made my way down while the guys encouraged my progress. My feet hit the ground and I stood up. I was inside a real cave!

There wasn't much to explore. It was one "room" slightly larger my bedroom. The guys told me that the Seminole Indians living in the area around Ocala long ago had used the caves as shelter. 

I got excited as I found carvings on the limestone walls, but they turned out to be initials and notes left by other spelunkers who had explored the cave. We carved our own initials in the wall before climbing out of the dark, cool cave into the spring sunlight.