
Last weekend I joined my brother and his friends on a camping-spelunking trip. Now camping, I’m used to. I’m serious, my tent and sleeping bag are even color coordinated. But spelunking? Until I was rappelling 165ft down into a cave, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Let me tell you, this is no adventure for the acrophobic or claustrophobic. Yes, for a moment, maybe even two, I imagined that I could uncontrollably fall to my doom if anything went wrong. But I wish you were there to capture the view with me. It was amazing. Remember learning about stalactites and stalagmites? I was surrounded by them… ancient, colossal, unperturbed.
Spelunking is basically a term for exploring caves. For those of you who’ve never tried, it involves a lot of climbing and crawling in muddy, tight spaces. This is the type of sport where size matters and for once, being little is an advantage. It does take a little creativity sometimes to get through the small tunnels. I found myself pulling and kicking in a variety of awkward positions to move ahead. Although, I didn't do any digging, it left me feeling a little like a mole. Muddy and exhausted, I was thrilled to see the light at the end of the tunnel.