Post by afrochili on Dec 28, 2006 15:33:35 GMT -5
Celeste and I met at the camping area at Scott Hollow Cave and set our tent up as the rain turned to a drizzle and finally stopped with the onset of the piercing December night air. The local dog named Renegade (or Relentless by some) continued to drop sticks on our feet to play catch. The old mutt would play day or night with any sucker ready to play. He truly was ‘Relentless.’ It wasn’t long before we were pulling the drawstrings tight around our faces and letting the Sandman work his magic.
We met with Mike and Pad Dore in the morning at their warm country home. Their home had the quid essential ‘Fresh Eggs’ sign on the door, a large country kitchen, awards that both Pat and Mike have been granted for their service in geology and caving contributions, and Scott Hollow Cave pictures on the wall. We talked caving, geology, mapping, and more speleo-babble. 3D mapping techniques were brought up and I promised to connect other people working on similar projects. Mike gave us a map and a suggested tour in his 28 mile cave system. He gave us a key and we wished him and Pat a warm Happy Holidays.
Geared up with cameras, water, food, and too much clothing, we headed to the large house that was built for the entrance. Another party was also gearing up to work on an old lead-climb within the cave. We passed them and entered the house. Unfinished on the inside, the shell of a home has a three story opening from ceiling to the bare floor basement where practice ropes are hung on pulleys. Other unfinished rooms are scattered on different levels, and we headed into the ‘family room’ where lifting a round wood cover in the floor reveals the vertical metal culvert heading down into the depths of Scott Hollow Cave.
The high pressure weather system outside forced the cave to suck in the cold air, and we could feel it on our faces as we descended the rebar ladder and our eyes began to adjust to the diminishing light. Once out of the entrance area, the cave provided comforting warmth, and we began to work our way over breakdown in Mastodon Alley. Mastodon Alley is a 30 foot wide, 20-50 foot high passage that dips with the bedrock at an angle of at least 25 degrees, and it continues like this, up and down the huge blocks of breakdown, for a couple thousand feet.
The Junction Room has 11 different passages coming into it! We had to choose carefully to find our chosen route. Dropping through a 12 foot climb-down, across some wet rimstone dams, and around a light 15 foot waterfall put us in a stream canyon passage. The stream rushed past us as we marveled at he large speleothems high (~50 feet) above our heads. Soon, the left wall became a vision of Dali-like masterpieces. The gallery consisted of stalactites, stalagmites, long soda straws, columns, and helectites twisting in every direction in colors of deep red-brown and clear-white. On and on, the sculptures became more spectacular. Celeste and I experimented with painting light for photographs using my unusually bright 5 watt LED headlamp and a wide open shudder. The right hand wall, all the while, had a slight gypsum crust with tiny curls and flowers littering its surface; like a graffiti filled subway station in NYC.
The canyon opened up to a width of at least 100 feet and a ceiling nearly as high. We eventually turned off into a high lead into the Christmas Tree Passage. The helectites twisted in bizarre, and nearly impossible formations. We continued our onslaught of photographs.
Next, we reversed directions heading North with the North-South Stream Passage and followed the stream as it plummeted over small cascades. The canyon continued to narrow and became sinuous from the erosional power of the stream. We followed the stream past the Junction room as it hurdled downward towards the Mystic River, and the breakdown forced us to climb high over the water, traversing up and down steep, mud slick breakdown. The path finally deposited us back down to stream level and the passage opened with a view of the Mystic River. The passage was awesome and massive, and although the river sounded turbulent off in the distance, its current state was placid and reflective.
Walking in the downstream direction we heard the voices of the other three in the cave and saw their lights 70-80 feet high above our heads. With the aid of a length of fixed webbing they had climbed the shear wall of the river canyon. They came down and we briefly exchanged stories. They headed out of the cave and Celeste and I decided to ascend the wall to see the Chess Room. One at a time, we climbed the precipitous wall and then sauntered up the slick mud bank. A quick belly crawl brought us into the Chess Room with formations on the floor and ceiling that rivaled Lewis Carol’s Queen’s game.
Continuing upstream in Mystic River we came upon a large flowstone dam on the left. The curved walls stood 20 feet high. Water spilled out over the round walls that continued in a huge arc at least 80 feet around. Water poured in from a hole in the wall over a deeply hued flowstone and accumulated in a deep pool. Years ago, I visited this same spot and remember the flowstone light brown in color. It now had a black tone with a distinct smell of cow manure. This appeared to be quite a thick deposit of flowstone in a short amount of time.
We continued down the river for a while, drawn by the rumbling sounds of the river as it passed over rocks and breakdown creating small waterfalls. Finally we turned around and headed back towards the surface. On the way up Mastodon Alley, we once again smelled the acetylene of the other party’s old miner’s carbide lamps. At least an hour after the time they should have already been out of the cave, we ran into them heading down the passage that we moved up. They had been unable to find the entrance so Celeste and I lead them out and exited before them while giving the Scott Hollow veteran a bit of due grief. We headed back up the road to our campsite and started a fire to cut the oncoming dawn. The other 24 miles or so of Scott Hollow will have to wait for my next trip.
We met with Mike and Pad Dore in the morning at their warm country home. Their home had the quid essential ‘Fresh Eggs’ sign on the door, a large country kitchen, awards that both Pat and Mike have been granted for their service in geology and caving contributions, and Scott Hollow Cave pictures on the wall. We talked caving, geology, mapping, and more speleo-babble. 3D mapping techniques were brought up and I promised to connect other people working on similar projects. Mike gave us a map and a suggested tour in his 28 mile cave system. He gave us a key and we wished him and Pat a warm Happy Holidays.
Geared up with cameras, water, food, and too much clothing, we headed to the large house that was built for the entrance. Another party was also gearing up to work on an old lead-climb within the cave. We passed them and entered the house. Unfinished on the inside, the shell of a home has a three story opening from ceiling to the bare floor basement where practice ropes are hung on pulleys. Other unfinished rooms are scattered on different levels, and we headed into the ‘family room’ where lifting a round wood cover in the floor reveals the vertical metal culvert heading down into the depths of Scott Hollow Cave.
The high pressure weather system outside forced the cave to suck in the cold air, and we could feel it on our faces as we descended the rebar ladder and our eyes began to adjust to the diminishing light. Once out of the entrance area, the cave provided comforting warmth, and we began to work our way over breakdown in Mastodon Alley. Mastodon Alley is a 30 foot wide, 20-50 foot high passage that dips with the bedrock at an angle of at least 25 degrees, and it continues like this, up and down the huge blocks of breakdown, for a couple thousand feet.
The Junction Room has 11 different passages coming into it! We had to choose carefully to find our chosen route. Dropping through a 12 foot climb-down, across some wet rimstone dams, and around a light 15 foot waterfall put us in a stream canyon passage. The stream rushed past us as we marveled at he large speleothems high (~50 feet) above our heads. Soon, the left wall became a vision of Dali-like masterpieces. The gallery consisted of stalactites, stalagmites, long soda straws, columns, and helectites twisting in every direction in colors of deep red-brown and clear-white. On and on, the sculptures became more spectacular. Celeste and I experimented with painting light for photographs using my unusually bright 5 watt LED headlamp and a wide open shudder. The right hand wall, all the while, had a slight gypsum crust with tiny curls and flowers littering its surface; like a graffiti filled subway station in NYC.
The canyon opened up to a width of at least 100 feet and a ceiling nearly as high. We eventually turned off into a high lead into the Christmas Tree Passage. The helectites twisted in bizarre, and nearly impossible formations. We continued our onslaught of photographs.
Next, we reversed directions heading North with the North-South Stream Passage and followed the stream as it plummeted over small cascades. The canyon continued to narrow and became sinuous from the erosional power of the stream. We followed the stream past the Junction room as it hurdled downward towards the Mystic River, and the breakdown forced us to climb high over the water, traversing up and down steep, mud slick breakdown. The path finally deposited us back down to stream level and the passage opened with a view of the Mystic River. The passage was awesome and massive, and although the river sounded turbulent off in the distance, its current state was placid and reflective.
Walking in the downstream direction we heard the voices of the other three in the cave and saw their lights 70-80 feet high above our heads. With the aid of a length of fixed webbing they had climbed the shear wall of the river canyon. They came down and we briefly exchanged stories. They headed out of the cave and Celeste and I decided to ascend the wall to see the Chess Room. One at a time, we climbed the precipitous wall and then sauntered up the slick mud bank. A quick belly crawl brought us into the Chess Room with formations on the floor and ceiling that rivaled Lewis Carol’s Queen’s game.
Continuing upstream in Mystic River we came upon a large flowstone dam on the left. The curved walls stood 20 feet high. Water spilled out over the round walls that continued in a huge arc at least 80 feet around. Water poured in from a hole in the wall over a deeply hued flowstone and accumulated in a deep pool. Years ago, I visited this same spot and remember the flowstone light brown in color. It now had a black tone with a distinct smell of cow manure. This appeared to be quite a thick deposit of flowstone in a short amount of time.
We continued down the river for a while, drawn by the rumbling sounds of the river as it passed over rocks and breakdown creating small waterfalls. Finally we turned around and headed back towards the surface. On the way up Mastodon Alley, we once again smelled the acetylene of the other party’s old miner’s carbide lamps. At least an hour after the time they should have already been out of the cave, we ran into them heading down the passage that we moved up. They had been unable to find the entrance so Celeste and I lead them out and exited before them while giving the Scott Hollow veteran a bit of due grief. We headed back up the road to our campsite and started a fire to cut the oncoming dawn. The other 24 miles or so of Scott Hollow will have to wait for my next trip.
