There is Nothing to Fear but...but a Really Scary Cave!

I stood in 1.5 feet of water, in a pitch black cave of marble, soaked from head to foot, trembling. I was not cold, in fact the humidity kept the cave and water of the jungle warm, but my nerves were shot. Birds I could not see screamed a high pitched warning that we should get out and then took to diving near us clacking their beaks into the slick marble mountains on either side of us. My headlamp lit the faint spot in front of me that I would need to climb up and wedge my foot into before I would jump down the next waterfall into another series of dead black pools. The crushing sound of water made it nearly impossible to shout for help, and I gripped blindly in the dizzying blackness for Jesse's hand. Tears streaked down my already wet face; I was in absolute despair. How the hell did I find myself in that situation? We couldn't go backwards, the previous waterfalls and silky smooth rock made sure of that, but moving forward almost had me paralyzed.

Let us pause for a moment and analyse how I did get into that horrific predicament. My husband may or may not have known that there would be a 2 hour hike though the steep jungle to get to the cave. He may or may not have known that there was a decent chance we would be swimming, not wading, through black pools of water. He may or may not have known that we would jump off many waterfalls in the pitch dark. What he did know, for sure, was that he knew he wanted to do this caving adventure long before we set out on this trip to Colombia. Now add in that I was trying my best to be a YES woman,  so I did not complain about the idea of caving, but then I didn't know what was awaiting me so perhaps in retrospect I might have hesitated more about joining in. Instead, blissfully unaware, I asked the desk clerk to describe the caving to me. His description was on the light side to say the least and included telling me I could wear a bathing suit if I wanted. I don't know about you, but when I hear "bathing suit" I think fun, not fear. Needless to say, his description sucked and you most definitely do NOT want to wear just a bathing suit on this nightmare.

Back in the cave: I tried to lower my 11 year old son onto a step just to the side of the next, bigger, rushing waterfall, a spot closer to the inky pool that waited below so that he wouldn't have to jump so far. Jess waited for our son, treading water, promising to catch him. My hand burned in pain as the sharp ridge of the marble dug into my palm, this handhold was the only thing that kept me from sliding down the slick front of the rock and crushing my child. At my turn, I jumped, a sharp zing of fear shooting up my spine and my heart racing a million miles a minute, I crashed into the pool, sinking far below the surface, and did the one thing they said to make sure not to do...I swallowed a giant gulp of water...of dark pool cave water...of bird poop filled dark cave water. Now, if I survived this cave, I could look forward to giardia. As I swam to the ledge, my running shoes making me a spastic swimmer, I thought of how I mocked the guide when he said "make sure you do not drink the water", telling my husband 'who would be so stupid to drink the water?' well, clearly me, I am that stupid.

Finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, (the opening of the cave, not death, although at that point I would have taken that option too) adrenaline swept through me; I needed out of that God damn cave badly. Rushing toward the opening in thigh high water, relief started to tingle in my hands. And that's when I smashed my right knee into a massive, hidden rock with the force of someone running for their life. The throbbing sent a guttural primitive cry out of me. I struggle onto a ledge, water now only up to mid calf and tried to shine my ever fading headlamp at the wound. Just then, as the birds' incessant screeching pierced the few feet we had to move in, a sharp stab hit my ass. One of those rare, freak birds attacked my ass! It was as if the cave was taking one last swing at finishing me off. I pushed ahead of the few other cavers that were trying to make their escape and climbed up onto a look out that would serve as an exit. A rope ladder in the heavy rush of the final waterfall taunted me, this cave just wouldn't give up! Jesse and our son waited at the bottom, holding onto a rope that would guide our swim against the strong current of the river to the banks of safety on the other side. Photos later would show that my leggings were see-through when wet and as I climbed down the swaying ladder, I'd put on a nice show for all the people that had come to the beautiful river to play for the day.

Exhausted we sat in the shallows of the crystal clear water of the river, the fiercely green jungle jetting thousands of feet up around us, and I cried. I wish I could say I was  doing a happy dance, feeling like a million bucks, but I didn't. I cried a good hard cry. I don't think I have ever been subjected to such a long duration of fear and my entire body shook, rattling with the intensity of it.  My husband rubbed my back and tried to give me a pep-talk. He told me how proud he was of me and how well I did, and then, just like that, he said the words that transformed my entire mood, "honey, lets go get you some wine".

*on a side note, I did not cry the entire time I was in Colombia. I seem to be selecting blog topics that were highly emotional...thus all the crying. I actually had a fantastic time and we spent most days NOT doing terrifying things. The large consumption of wine on the other hand, is a completely accurate depiction of our trip.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com