Marian's group was my first group I'd taken caving. It was December at dusk, cold but still no snow. The
phone rang and it was Marian. Marian had called asking if I would be their guide during a caving trip
her youth group was planning. Seeing a break in the monotony of my nine-to-five life, I agreed. I phoned
my best friend, Kerrie, to ask if she wanted to join us. She responded with an eager "Yes!" The group
organized the trip; and during Christmas break, we arrived at Devil's Sink Campground. The camp was
set up, and we got a goodnight's sleep to prepare for the next day's caving adventure. After a hearty
breakfast, we piled into the cars and drove to the mouth of the cave.
My rusting gray pickup was filled with our equipment for the expedition. Kerrie and I checked
the group's equipment, making sure all the head lamps worked perfectly. I thoroughly explained all the
precautions that needed to be taken and all the dangers that can be found in Devil's Sink. I could tell their
attention was waning, so I concluded my speech, and started towards the cave's mouth.
The small, almost undetectable crack on the face of the limestone quarry, was nearly covered by
thick undergrowth. This long forgotten quarry was forced to shut down after the discovery of the cavern.
One by one, they wriggled into the crack and disappeared into the foreboding darkness. Kerrie and
Marian had gone in first, while I brought up the rear. The last of the youth group members was a tall,
thin girl named Liz. Apparently, she didn't stretch that often, and contorting her long frame into the
crack proved to be quite an ordeal for her. After some pushing and shoving, provided by me, we were
both inside.
As I turned my head to get a better view of the passage, the scorching flame of my head lamp
licked the side of the cave. A thick coat of mud covered the floor, and cool water dripped from the
ceiling, and trickled down the walls. Ahead, an enormous pillar of calcium captivated the group's
attention. Moving to the pillar, I explained how it had formed. We slowly advanced to the next room and
gathered around a magnificent gallery of staglagtites, stalagmites, cave bacon, soda straws, and other
limestone formations. Some of the members snapped photos of the gallery to take home, knowing that
they could not remove anything from the cave. Most of the group was getting hungry, so I directed them
to a large, mostly flat room for lunch.
As I sat down on a large slab of rock, most likely to have fallen from the roof, I looked around at
the group, eating their lunches in a frenzy of voices. From my knapsack I pulled a bologna sandwich, and
took a bite. Before I could swallow the mouthful of satisfying sandwich, an ear-splitting scream echoed
through the chamber. In an instant, I leaped from my perch and scrambled to the group.
The group members were hysterical. Kerrie rushed to me and with a cool head, filled me in.
Liz, from the youth group, had been eating her lunch with the rest. She had gotten up, slipped on some
mud, and tumbled through a crevasse in the floor. Quickly, I tied a rope around my chest, grabbed a
flashlight, and gave the line to Kerrie. She tied the line to a stalagmite and I jumped into the crevasse.
I fell for a long time. Bracing my self for the shock that should come, I held the rope. It snapped
taught, and I bounced like a marionette on a string. I could feel my chest exploding under the strain, and
knew I had broken ribs. My vision cleared and I examined my surroundings. I was nearly at the bottom
of a deep sink. Midnight water swam at my feet. Looking down, I saw the unbelievable. Laying limp
with shock, Liz floated face down in the black water. A faint tint of crimson colored the water. I untied
the line and plunged into the icy water. Using strong strokes I quickly reached Liz and turned her over.
Liz's face was ashen gray. An indigo bruise was forming on her cheek. The shattered remnants
of her helmet remained on her head, no doubt saving her life. As if by a magical force, a tremor tore
through her body and she coughed back to life. Still to scared to speak, she merely lay there, shivering. I
knew that the cold water had saved her from terrible injuries, but would soon be her killer if I didn't work
fast. In a calm voice I told her "Everything's going to be all right."
Working quickly, I fashioned a seat for the rope with my shirt and tied it on. I placed her in the
harness and yelled to the group to start pulling her up. Ever so slowly, the line worked its way up and she
soon disappeared from sight. When she emerged at the top a grand cheer rang through the cavern. An
eerie gurgling sound grew from my left, and as I looked down I noticed that the water was receding.
Soon, my toes were barely covered with water and I sank into the deep cave mud. The rope fell from the
darkness above and I grabbed on, pulling myself from the oozing mud. Hand over hand, I hoisted myself
up the rope, sweat dripping from my face. As I neared the top, my eye caught something.
The rope lay fraying on the sharp rocks above. I had to find a handhold. I swung, back and
forth, all the while the rope unraveling. A knob-like stalagmite jutted from the wall and I grabbed hold
with my hand. At the same moment, the rope snapped like fishing line burdened with a trophy bass. The
group screamed with horror. I was so scared, I could not respond to their calls. I hung there, dangling
with one arm. The taught muscles in my shoulder groaned in protest as I pulled my self to the next
protrusion. Hand over hand, I inched my way up the slippery cliff. Somewhere from above a puddle of
mud raced towards the pit, and rained down on me. Covered in slimy goo, I pushed upward.
I emerged in a passage twenty feet from the lunch chamber. I trudged towards the group, silent
except for the "slosh, slosh" of my muddy boots. I tried to call out, again but it was no use, my voice was
gone. As I neared them, I let out a sigh.
The group of scared, and nervous youths turned at my sigh, half screamed and cried. They
rushed to me. I was surrounded with dozens of smiling faces, all cheering for my bravery. They tended to
my wounds, and I saw Liz. She was wrapped in a warm blanket, her feet propped up and a smile on her
face. A single tear ran down her swollen cheek as she saw me. I reached out and wiped it with my dirty
and bloody fingertip.
We reached the cave's entrance by the afternoon, and drove to the hospital. There Liz was
diagnosed with mild loss of blood and a slight concussion. I had four broken ribs, a sprained wrist, and
two broken fingers. I bid farewell to the brave group of youths and Kerrie drove me home.
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