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I would like open up a new discussion
thread. We have all had many wonderful caving experiences, some
of them bordering on the fantastic. I would like to start the
ball rolling with crawlways. How about writing something about
your best or worst crawlway experience? The good, the bad, the
muddiest, the most horrible, the funniest. You name it. Fool’s Crawl, Fort
Stanton Cave, New Mexico
I first ‘heard’ of Fool’s Crawl when I saw it in 1970 on the standard map that the BLM handed out with its permits. While I was interested, I was too busy digging with Lee Skinner and “super digger” Dennis Engle to check it out. It was around the spring of 1974 that I made my first attempt to worm my way through what was rumored to be a rather tight and nasty crawl. Now my memory isn’t good enough to recall those who accompanied me on these trips, but I believe that Steve Peerman was on every trip. As we entered the Sewer Pipe, almost immediately we encountered water. At first, it was only a little soupy mud. Then it became water-filled footprints. As we traveled farther into the Sewer Pipe, we sloshed through 3 inch deep water. The water became deeper as we progressed. Soon we were sliding over slick mounds of clay as the ceiling lowered and the water deepened to a couple of feet. Our little adventure was halted when we came to where the cave siphoned. I crawled to where theceiling met that water and looked to see if I could spot the infamous crawl. Nope. From hindsight, I estimate that we were some ten to twenty feet from the actual Fool’s Crawl. As a side note, there were many little irregular shaped rafts that were some 3 or 4 inches in diameter and composed some sort of calcareous material floating on the water near the siphon. It reminded me of the snowflakes in Snowflake Passage. Later that year or the next year, we tried it again. I must confess that I hate tight crawlways as I am a bit claustrophobic. With that in mind, I ‘researched’ the crawl by talking to veteran cavers. What I heard was basically, “It is tight, but it opens up rather quickly.” Because of my fear of tight spaces, I led. If I can keep moving, if only inch by painful inch then my mind isn’t occupied by thoughts of where I am, which is entombed by millions of tons of unescapable rock. I hate moving forward and seeing a pair of boots blocking my way and having to wait for someone or many someones to slither their way through a tight spot. When I came to the crawlway, the water level was down and only a puddle remained at the tightest and lowest spot of the crawl. The crawlway is roughly 15 inches wide and perhaps a foot tall. I tried to go through with my belly down and my shoulders parallel, but my shoulders were too wide. I wiggled in on my back with my right arm extended over my head, pushing my pack and my carbide light-equipped helmet ahead of me. My left arm hung uselessly down at my side. At the tightest spot, I discovered that the puddle was some 6 inches deep and, with my body displacing most of the water, the level rose. Now I was in a passage with water filling it to about 2 or 3 inches from the ceiling. I remember the water lapping at my face. It was very slippery and I wiggled like an eel to squeeze my body through that tight, water-soaked mud hole. Relief flooded through me when I finally exited from the fool’s part of the crawl. Now the passage had risen to a whole 14 or 15 inches and was about 3 feet wide. The ceiling, walls and floor were coated with wet slippery mud and so was I. It might as well have had ice for all the progress I was making, but make progress I made, a half inch at a time. After about 2 or 3 body lengths of slowly working my way forward, I was able to crawl on hands and knees into Snowflake Passage. I knew that I could and would take the easy exit via the Skyscraper Domes. One of the advantages of being first is that you can listen to the complaints and swearing coming from deep within the passage that you just vacated and greet your muddy friends as they exit. A year later, I tried the crawl again. I had a fresh crop of novice cavers who were willing to try something challenging. This time Fool’s Crawl was dry. Fort Stanton Cave never quite dries out though. Now, instead of being super slippery, the walls, floor, ceiling and I were coated with sticky mud. It was like I was wearing a Velcro suit and the cave was wearing the hooks. As before, I went first as I pushed my pack and helmet ahead of me. I couldn't drag myself forward as the floor acted like glue. I had to lift my body up a half inch, push forward and come down. Repeat. Repeat. I can’t remember how many times I did that simple action. Once I was past the tight spot, I discovered that if I lifted myself a little too high, I stuck to the ceiling. I was also sticking to the floor. Lift, move forward a 1/2 inch. Down. And repeat. Progress was made a slow half inch at a time. By comparison, being a wet muddy fish in that wet muddy crawl was easier (but not by much), than being a caving "tar baby" in a tight passage coated with the sticky equivalent of caver tar. That was the last time I went through Fool’s Crawl. I imagine that the crawl hasn’t changed since Steve and I crawled through it some 30 years ago. If you are inclined to brave the tight stuff and would like to sample a bit of claustrophobia, you might give Fool’s Crawl a try. I am too old and too fat to do it again. Thank goodness. -- Michael D. Lorimer 1826 Mount Joy Dr. San Antonio, TX 78232 575 644-1763 |
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