The monkey made me do it

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

I should have been a little more wary when the boys asked me if I wanted to go spelunking with them. I should have thought twice when they told me that we would be climbing in a cave system that wasn't on any map and had been discovered by the guy who would be leading us. Red flags should have been waving when I was told to dress for lots of mud, bring two flashlights, a warm blanket, food, rope, and a hard hat. The klaxon alarm should have sounded when they told me that I was invited but my friend Dusty couldn't come, since she was a D-cup and her chest would get her trapped on some of the trickier passages. I was a C-cup and therefore should be okay, but they warned me that I would have to inhale strongly to make it around certain corners.

"Sounds like fun!", I chirped.

We drove way the heck out into the foothills of the Rocky Mountains (this was in Colorado, near Boulder) and pulled off on the side of a road with no markers, signs, or other human beings within sight. There were five of us, three of my friends from the theater shop (oh, we were a rugged bunch!) and our guide, Sprout, who had discovered the cave system. I don't know what Sprout's real name was. He was a tall, lanky black man who was one of the more flamboyant personalities in the festival. This was only the second time I had ever seen him out of drag. We suited up, slung our flashlights on our belts, slapped on our hard hats and hiked up the side of the road until we couldn't see our cars anymore. Sprout led us in a twisting climb, pausing every now and then to look around before heading out in a different direction.

After a while we began to get worried, but just about the time we were working ourselves up to question Sprout about this mythical cave system, he disappeared right before our noses into a hole in the ground. We whooped and tumbled in after him, meeting in a large underground bubble with multiple holes branching off into the darkness. Sprout's eyes were incredibly bright in the dim room as he explained that most people would take the inviting opening leading off to the left, but that they were amateurs and wouldn't get to see the true heart of the cave. He pointed to a roughly 2-foot-diameter opening at his feet and told us that we'd have to take off our hard hats for this one, since our heads would be too big to fit through with them on. It was a 90 degree turn that was luckily slicked with mud to facilitate our painful twistings through the rock. It led to a series of narrow passages that we either crawled or crept through, depending on whether or not they were big enough to let us get up all the way onto our knees.

We got to another small room that allowed the five of us to sit together momentarily, and Sprout explained that the next stretch was even tighter while giving my chest a glance that was a mix of concern and disgust. I sucked it in and looked at him defiantly. The passage rose at a 45 degree angle from the room and wove between large boulders. The first two people made it up with no problems, and I started in with a good attitude. I made it about 3/4 of the way before my chest got stuck between two rocks. I had been pulling myself up with my arms when it happened, so I was completely immobile and didn't have a foothold no matter how much I twisted around and kicked. I tried everything I knew but it was no use, any motion just secured my position. I was wedged tightly in the passage and completely at the mercy of the rocks. I told the people at the top of the shaft my predicament (the ones below couldn't hear due to the chestal blockage and distance) and they (after chuckling a little) tried to lower down a rope to me. It kept getting caught on the twists and turns and rocks of the passage. I was trapped.

For some reason, I suddenly thought this was the funniest thing ever. I laughed, hard. It echoed up the shaft and scared the crap out of my comrades at the top, who were now getting worried that I'd be there forever, doomed by my boobs to a cold and lonely death. It echoed down the shaft, throwing pebbles at the comrades below who were just now imagining that something might be a little wrong with me. It grew to a magnitude that relaxed my chest muscles, and the combinations of that and the shaking of my lungs contracted them enough to allow me to slide down slightly from the two offending boulders and twist my hips and grab the sides of the passage with my feet. Still laughing, I took a deep breath and pushed upward (yes, I am THAT stubborn) and shoved my way through the narrow spot quickly and shimmied up to meet my friends. They wanted to know what was so dang funny.

We went further, finally ending up in an incredibly long, slanted space that you could only fit into by walking sideways and leaning back onto the angled surface. It was amazing. We turned off our flashlights and leaned back onto the cold stone, feeling just how deep we were in the mountainside. We took a different route back, one that entailed chimneying up a narrow vertical passage (chimneying = one hand and foot on either side of the hole. Pressure on the outer walls is all that keeps you from falling. In "The Emperor's New Groove" it's what the llama and big dude do to get away from the alligators) (I watched it with my nieces/nephew! Shh!). Very exciting, very heart-pounding, and I would do it again in a second. Except maybe next time wear a sports bra.

posted by LadyJay @ 1:50 PM