Very nice Carl. All so true. You can even set your helmet upside down now. But I must add don’t forget about the times when you raised your arm up over your head as when you were climbing and burned the hell out of it. And everyone would smell the singed hair. Oh yes, all those smells. I took me years to be able to look directly in front of me while I was climbing a rope. I still catch myself looking to the side.
Jon Cradit From: Carl Kunath [mailto:carl.kun...@suddenlink.net] Sent: Friday, August 24, 2012 11:37 AM To: TexasCavers Subject: [Texascavers] More about carbide caving The care, feeding, and management of carbide lamps is a micro-culture in itself. We're now a couple of generations beyond that (except for those who cling to things like the so-called "ceiling burners," a photo of which started this whole thread). Carbide lamps were cheap at the time ('50s -'70s) and carbide was also cheap and plentiful. Individual users bought 2-pound cans for $2 while groups often invested in 100-pound drums available from welding supply stores for about 50¢ a pound in the large drums. Carbide was often made available free to grotto members as benefit of membership. Disposal of spent carbide slowly evolved from dump it wherever, to dump it in a crevice, to bury it in the dirt, to pack it out in a bottle or bag. Smart cavers soon realized that the better solution was to carry spare pre-charged lamp bottoms. With a total of four bottoms, it was rare to need more on a typical caving trip. For most beginning cavers, the management of a carbide lamp was a mystery and a bit of a challenge. Nearly everyone carried small repair kits that usually included a tip, felt, gasket, flint, and tip reamer. Neophytes were tutored and it became a matter of pride and prestige to troubleshoot, recharge, or repair your lamp in the dark. In the early days of the Texas Old Timers Reunion, there were carbide lamp contests with blindfolded competitors. With experience, cavers became expert in firing a lamp by beginning a flow of water, sniffing the tip for the tell-tale odor of acetylene, trapping just the right mixture of air and acetylene within the reflector and igniting the lamp with a satisfyingly loud "pop" when the proportions were correct. Often the built-in sparking device was not working properly, lamps were ignited flame-to-tip, and the phrase "give me a kiss" had a whole different meaning. Carbide lamps were (and are) multi-purpose devices. Besides providing illumination, they acted as stoves to heat your lunch, a little spot of soot made a nice survey marker, and when hunkered over, they provided a surprising amount of heat. If you cut a hole in the top of a garbage bag and used it like a poncho, things could get quite toasty. They also work wonderfully for melting nylon ropes, especially when the ropes are tensioned. 8-( The appearance of a cave lit by carbide flame is wonderful. The warmer color temperature and diffuse pattern of light cannot be duplicated by any electric lamp I have seen. If you have never been "carbide caving" try it sometime just for fun to see what I mean. Carbide caving didn't end instantly. For several years, I was using an incandescent head lamp with a shirt pocket battery pack. When we stopped for any reason, I would turn off my light to conserve battery power and instantly draw "mooch and letch" comments from my carbide companions who then spitefully refused to allow me to heat my boned chicken with their carbide lamps. Electric lights have come a long way. We are far beyond the days when a Wheat Lamp was considered a state of the art caving light. Carbide is gone and incandescent is all but gone. LED enhancements, micro circuitry, and advancing battery technology provide us with powerful, lightweight devices we never dreamed of in the past. I certainly don’t miss all that weight on the front of my helmet, but I do miss some of the other things about carbide caving. ===Carl Kunath