|climbed in the truck to
follow our new found friend to this potentially new-to-us cave.
dropped down between a crack in some boulders and then followed the
cliff-line to a fairly large entrance in the cliff face. There,
friend left us to explore. We thanked him for sharing “his” cave
us and began the long, hands-and-knees crawl to the back of the cave,
where he had promised we would find impressive rim stone dams. We
not disappointed. After carefully traversing these knee-high rim
dams, we stumbled upon a flowstone formation about twelve feet in
height and four feet wide. It ended with stalagmite fingers
into a clear pool. At the top of the flowstone was a tiny hole,
which poured a thin stream of water. The water immediately spread
over the entire width of the formation and pulsed over the ripples in
the rock in a steady rhythm. We all stood awestruck for some
the complexity of this natural wonder.
After the long crawl out of the cave, we were all
ready to call it
a day. None of us were disappointed in our three cave adventure
day; however we were starving. Matt and I ended the day at the
Somerset Golden Corral with Kelly and Brittany Huron and Kasey Webb,
stuffing our faces with an endless array of food and enjoying ourselves
loud enough to elicit more than a few harsh glares from the local
patrons. Though we didn’t exactly usher many new members into the
world of caving, we did have a wonderful day serial caving!
BGG year 2006
Arthur Cammers (BGG)
of the editor is the creation of a
sweeping statement that may smoothly stroke the fur of some of us in
the right direction while
gruffly excoriating the hide of others in the wrong direction. It is in this
spirit that I put out the following. If you have commentary about the
following or about anything in any issues of the KY caver we invite you to write
e-mail to us and tell us how you feel.
The year 2006 has been odd . . . for me. This was
first full year affiliated with the Bluegrass Grotto and the second
year of a mid-life crisis--the reason I became affiliated with the BGG.
I find myself linked to a motley crew whose sole constrictive
are caving and a common love of the land. Our conversations and
efforts are focused, reminiscent of a
hypothetical, characterisically desaltory conversation
about umbrellas between Mary
Poppins, Oswald Cobblepot--AKA the Penguin, Dr.
Henry Killinger and the Umbrella
Their constrictive intersection is the management of their mental states while on the edge of
disaster, hanging from umbrellas buoyed only by the wiles of fluid
mechanics. This allegory was explored by
Jonathan Goldstein in an episode of This American Life.
A small grotto/ group, the BGG still struggles for
self-definition in terms of mission and critical mass, clutched to our
individual umbrellas in our efforts to remain aloft. We are here because
we want more out of
life than a 9-to-5 job, church or knitting circle could provide. Likely
we cling to the axiom that if we are
not on the edge we are wasting space. We are the Davids of the OT myth in which the