127314

THE CAVES BEYOND

V

THE CAVES BEYOND

The Story of the Floyd Collins*
Crystal Cave Exploration

BY JOEJL.AWRENCE, JR.
AND ROGER W. BRUCKER

FOR

The "National Speleological Society

New York Funk & Wagnalls Company

1955

A National Speleological Society explorer rappels into a pit in Floyd
Collins* Crystal Cave. Photo by Robert HalmL [Frontispiece]

Copyright, 1953, t by
The National Speleological Society

THE CAVOS BEYOND

Library of Congress Catalog Card No, 55-7590
Printed in the United State* of America

FOREWORD

PINPOINTS OF LIGHT push slowly along maddeningly complex pas-
JL sageways that penetrate like some giant spider web for miles in un-
known directions, hundreds of feet below the rolling Kentucky landscape.
The puny lights cross a pit too deep to illuminate without reinforcement.
Later, from those depths, massed lights will show how truly terrifying the
traverse was, yet the crossing was made as a matter of course. It had to be
made because there were caves beyond.

Pits and canyons, crawlways and chimneys that would have challenged
the skill of the most experienced rock climbers were negotiated by men and
women from all walks of life-negotiated in the dark. In almost every sense
this was mountaineering at night.

That the thousands of man-hours spent groping through the implacable
darkness were accomplished without accident may be credited to kind for-
tune, good discipline, and superb organization.

Less experienced cavers, even at the peak of condition, would have been
running unconscionable risks. But speleology has established a rigid code
of safety and exploratory techniques as precise as those of the rock climber
or mountaineer. There are few places for the novice in an enterprise where
one accident might jeopardize the safety of others. There were many times
and places in Floyd Collins* Crystal Cave where it would have been impos-
sible to evacuate the immobilized victim of a serious accident

Only the expedition's best and most experienced explorers ever went off
alone into unknown passageways-and then only when a short time limit for
return had been set Absence beyond that deadline called for immediate
investigation. On a few occasions the reinforcements arrived when need for
help was critical

Unclimbed mountains are reconnoitered from every possible angle. Photo-
graphs from different points of the compass and from the air reveal vital in-
formation about the problems that will be encountered. Not so in the world
underground Those who assault the unknown below the surface must mas-
ter each new obstacle as it is encountered. Otherwise valuable time is lost
-time purchased dearly, at the expenditure of prodigious effort, by scores
of supply personnel,

A tern and a half of food and Supplies had to be dragged and pushed for
thousands of feet, sometimes through crevices ten indies wide, beneath

ceilings a foot high, akmg fedges only inches wide above gaping pits a hun-

yii wfinHi /%i

vi Foreword

dred feet deep. The eight miles of telephone line, consisting of two party
lines and 14 phones, were a monument to electrical know-how, to exploring
skill and persistence.

The world underground is sparsely inhabited. Too much of its thousands
of miles of passageways is devoid of any organic material, dead or alive, to
support life. Only where surface streams can carry in organic debris, or in
places close to the surface, can the bio-speleologist find concentrations of
cave creatures.

Crystal's explorers learned that living hour after hour, day upon day in
darkness, without experiencing the familiar, too little appreciated sunrise
or the satisfaction of the day-ending sunset, plunged them into a state of un-
reality. Some persons never can adjust to such an unnatural round of ex-
istence. Others might adjust if a new pattern of regularity were established.
But these days of exploration underground lacked any vestige of regularity,
a situation that contributed to the overwhelming fatigue and frustration that
eventually overcame even the expedition's strongest cavers.

The members of the Crystal Cave expedition are bound in a brotherhood
deeper than that known by other cavers. The grueling hours of supply
carrying, truly terrifying as well as exhausting for some, the tense anxiety
felt for fellow members in perilous climbing attempts and for those who
went hungry below ground in the first days while surface teams were com-
mandeered for fighting raging forest fires, the mysterious, sometimes un-
explained happenings in the depths of the cave, and the light-hearted
banter, the corny humor, and the rollicking cave ballad composed and sung
underground all are precious experiences that cannot be fully shared with
others.

The fact that we know so much about them is due to the explicit but
succinct notes in faithfully kept logs and to actual, on-the-spot record-
ings of telephone conversations, routine reports, and radio and televisjoa
broadcasts, many of them from the depths of the cave. Without these detail-
rich supplements to the vivid memories of its "leaden this account of the
expedition never could have been written.

Transparent in this book is the true explorer's respect, almost revereaoe*
for the handiwork of nature. Even in the most remote parts of the canf
delicate and beautiful formations were protected from damage. They ir lj
recognized as being just as precious as the irreplaceable rnineralogical \
geological marvels in the tourist portions of the cave*

And just as a host of sportsmen above ground have learned the
tion of collecting their trophies with a camera, cave explorers bring
glittering formations and fascinating cave animals on film. The real

Foreword vii

remain in the cave, where they belong, as pristine as when the first human
eyes encountered them.

It is impossible to read these pages without recognizing the insatiable
drive that spurs man onward, or realizing how frustrating it is to turn back
when you can see with the explorer's eyes that there are caves beyond. But
never completely solved logistics problems, the growing fatigue that be-
comes overwhelming that invisible but insurmountable endurance barrier
and the paralyzing uncertainty as to where you are in the uncharted maze,
combine to make the caves beyond unconquerable.

But there will be new assaults on this and other unexplored caves, And
if the efforts of the future are carried on with organization as good, with
personnel as skilled and devoted, and with a respect for caves and their con-
tents as sincere, the caves beyond offer man an endless but deeply satisfying
challenge.

CHABLES E. MOHK

Past President, The National

Speleological Society

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

THE FLOYD COLLINS? CRYSTAL CAVE EXPLORATION was a team effort in
which The National Speleological Society was assisted by the fifteen Ameri-
can firms listed below. These companies generously gave both funds and
products to make possible the additions to speleological knowledge which
the expedition achieved:

Chas, Pfizer & Company, Inc.

Columbian Rope Company

Ditto, Inc.

E. D. Bullard Company

General Foods Corporation

Habitant Soup Company

Linde Air Products Company, a Division of Union Carbide and Carbon

Corporation

M & R Dietetic Laboratories, Inc.
Mine Safety Appliances Company
Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing Company
National Broadcasting Company, Inc.
Pillsbury-Ballard Division of Pillsbury Mills, Ine
Sylvania Electric Products, Inc.
Taylor Instrument Companies
The Coleman Company, Inc*

AUTHORS' NOTE

A DVENTURE BOOKS AND TALES of daring continue to appear on the literary
\ scene at frequent intervals. We believe that probably the most char-
acteristic quality in any of them is that they are written some months after
the facts, and give a reconstruction of the action as closely as the author
is able to make it.

Facing this at the beginning of The National Speleological Society's
expedition into Floyd Collins Crystal Cave, we made plans for preserving
by tape recording many of the more important telephone conversations
between parties working in the cave and those manning topside posts. Also
recorded were interviews with explorers who had just emerged from the
cave, and reports of the working press who covered the story for their
readers. By using this material as it was recorded we hope to give the reader
a clearer insight into the successes, problems, and failures of those people
who spent a week underground.

Climbing a mountain is a vastly different operation from exploring a cave.
A mountain is there. You can see its summit, which becomes the goal of an
expedition. You can't see a cave's goal, whatever it may be, for as you stand
on the surface of the land, often the only evidence of a cave is a hole lead-
ing downward into the unknown. The Caves Beyond is the story of the
exploration of just such a hole, and how the explorers pushed the limits of
their knowledge to the limits of physical endurance.

The stoiy is told from two viewpoints by two people who experienced it
from differing positions. Joe Lawrence, Jr., saw it as a leader of the expedi-
tion. He saw his years of dreaming and planning being put into effect
Roger Bracket saw it as an explorer and surveyor. For him it was a chal-
lenge hurled up by the unknown.

Some of the raw data of (he expedition have not yet been fully analyzed
and evaluated-nor, perhaps, will they be for some years to come, since the
cave explorer in America is forced to pursue his hobby in his spare time and
at His own expense.

To prevent 1 _

other fincffcKs " " form

discovered, the aui : to feel

that the 'rtri?9&r; ' 1* a ^BWfejff * * their entirety.
As you read this account, other parties will be penetrating into the remote

x Authors Note

reaches of Crystal Cave to assault the endurance barrier. They will un-
doubtedly discover many new waterfalls, rivers, and galleries, but all of
them will rely heavily on the findings of the 1954 expedition into the cave.
The National Speleological Society is an organization devoted to the study
of caves, and the study of Crystal Cave will not be allowed to lie dormant
as long as one passage remains unsurveyed and one enigma remains un-
solved. This is the determination of the cave explorer. This is the determina-
tion of those who have written this account,

JOE LAWRENCE, JR.

ROGER W. BRVCKER
February, 1955
New York

CONTENTS

Foreword v

Acknowledgments viii

Author's Note ix

Part I

PREPARING FOR THE ASSAULT
by Joe Lawrence, Jr.

1 From Darkness into Darkness 3

2 Run Like Hell 21

3 Blueprint for Action 28

4 Stockpile 37

5 Under Canvas 43

Part II

PENETRATING THE BARRIER
by Roger W. Brucker

6 The Doctor Takes a Tour 51

7 Operation Base Camp 73

8 Advance Party 85

9 Personnel Build-up 97

10 Fourteen-hour Nightmare 118

11 Top of Fool's Dome 129

12 Assault on B Trail 144

13 Men with Bottles 156

14 Enigma of Mud Avenue 167

15 Smokescreen 176

16 Brand-nevyDave 186

xii Contents

Part III

ANOTHER

BARRIER AND CAVES BEYOND
by Joe Lawrence, Jr.

17 Camp Two 203

18 No Green Water 220

19 Daylight 233
Expedition Roster 243
Appendices

1 Organization Report by Joe Lawrence, Jr. 247

2 Medical Report by Hdvard Wanger, M.D. 253

3 Supply Report by Alden E. Snell 261

4 Communications Report by Robert L. Lutz 263

5 Geological Report by Thomas C. Barr, Jr. 266

6 Meteorological Report by Donald N.

Cournoyer 274

7 Biological Report by Thomas C. Barr, Jr. 280

Parti

PREPARING FOR THE ASSAULT

by Joe Lawrence, Jr*

FROM DARKNESS INTO DARKNESS

December, 1951

I HAD LOOKED FORWAB0 for three days to the moment I would see daylight
again. Sixty hours can seem like a year when you spend it in the
unchanging darkness of a cave. My eyelids were beginning to droop.
I had to think deliberately to put one foot in front of the other as I trudged
upward toward the cave entrance, The weight of my sleeping bag sank
uncomfortably into my shoulder, but fatigue was a much heavier burden.
Now I was less than a hundred yards from the entrance, so I moved on,
almost automatically, longing to see the sunlight.

For three days I had traveled through the limestone galleries and canyons
of Floyd Collins? Crystal Cave, seeing more twisted passages and unexplored
chambers than I had ever seen in any other cave. Ahead of me Bill Austin
pushed open the heavy wooden door at the entrance. A blast of winter air
struck me as I followed him up the steps. There was no sun! I looked up to
see if the roof of the cave was still overhead and saw, instead, a million
stars, I had completely lost my sense of time. In the timelessness below, the
constant dripping of water, the perpetual darkness, and the everlasting
silence, all remained unchanged from day to day, from eon to eon.

Jim Dyer met us with a wide grin as we climbed the hill toward his cave
office. He was clean-shaven and cleanly clad in contrast to our mud-coated
beards and shredded clothing* Jim was in his forties, a slightly bald man
with an almost impish smile. Nearly everyone who had come in contact with
him talked of him as though he were an old friend, even if the meeting had
been a brief one* I looked at Jim through bloodshot eyes and mumbled,
"YouVe sure got a lot of water-cut passage!* Then I flopped to the ground
beside my red jeep.

3

4 The Caves Beyond

The eight of us who had spent three days below were veteran cave ex-
plorers, but we had only glimpsed the vastness of Crystal Cave. Its tubes
twisting, turning, and intersecting seemed to have no end. Three days in
Crystal Cave was long enough to confuse but not long enough to help us
comprehend. How big was the cave and where was the end?

I had first heard of Floyd Collins Crystal Cave when Roy Charlton told
me of a trip he had made to the lower levels of the cave in the summer of
1951. Jim Dyer, the manager of the commercial part of the cave, and Luther
Miller had guided Roy on that trip. When Roy told me of the passages that
seemed to have no end I knew he had seen something big, for Roy is a
sharp observer and a good judge of caves. Roy and I had explored many
Virginia caves together, and I considered him one of the best explorers I
knew. There was no restraining him when he entered an unexplored pas-
sage; he would push forward doggedly to the end.

Roy and I had decided to spend three days in Crystal Cave during our
Christmas vacation. With three other Virginia cave explorers, we piled into
my red jeep and bounced off over the rugged country that separated us
from central Kentucky.

Floyd Collins' Crystal Cave lies under an island of private property sur-
rounded by Mammoth Cave National Park The entire region is a limestone
plateau shot through with the longest cave systems in the world, and the
plateau itself is dissected by solution valleys dividing the area into ridges,
with each ridge containing its own cave system. The Mammoth Cave Ridge
is the best known of these, extending for about three miles north and south
and averaging three quarters of a mile in width. Directly east is Flint Ridge,
about four miles wide and from two and a half to three miles long- Under
Flint Ridge lies Crystal Cave along with Salts Cave, Colossal Cave, Great
Onyx Cave and several smaller caves, all of more recent discovery than
Mammoth Cave. For this reason, systematic exploration of the Flint Ridge
system had never been pushed so completely as had that of Mammoth Cave*
but the potential of the Flint Ridge system appeared to be far greater in
terms of sheer area of coverage.

The jeep rolled through Cave City, passed Mammoth Cave, and followed
a twisting gravel road past weathered limestone outcrops that stood above
the brown sod. The road led out of a valley and onto the wooded owl of
Flint Ridge, Road cuts revealed red earth, characteristic of the cave areas in
Kentucky and Virginia. Here and there were outcrops of the red Cypress
Sandstone that capped Flint Ridge and overlay the thick beds of cave-bear-
ing limestone.

When we turned into the road leading to Crystal Cave we saw sinkholes
extending downward for a hundred feet or more. To the untrained eye they

From Darkness into Darkness 5

looked like valleys of the type found in many another locality, but these had
no streams flowing out of them. Instead, surface water ran into the sink-
holes and vanished into the honeycombed limestone where it eventually
reached underground streams. The geologists have named this land of ter-
rain karst after the Karst area in Yugoslavia where subterranean drainage in
limestone was first studied by European scientists. Since the late 1860's
American geologists have studied this classic American example of karst in
Kentucky and some of the most brilliant observations on cave development
have come from their studies.

The red jeep squealed to a halt in front of one of the three frame build-
ings at Crystal Cave. A one-story, green-roofed frame building was Jim
Dyer's home and office. Dyer and Bill Austin stepped out of the office to
see what had arrived. Bill Austin was thin, wiry and wore glasses; not exactly
the build you would expect of a cave explorer. But if he was as good as Roy
had told me, he was one of the best in the country.

The pair stared in amazement as five men, duffel bags, a tent, a carton
of groceries, sleeping bags, rope, a shovel, a camp stove, a rope ladder, flash-
lights, and other odds and ends poured from the jeep. Roy introduced us.

"You're early; we weren't expecting you until tomorrow," said Jim.

"Yes, I know. We made better time than we expected," I replied. "The
jeep only broke down once/*

*1 don't blame it," said Austin who was still staring incredulously at the
pile of equipment we had unloaded.

"Bill and I won't be ready to take you to the lower levels until tomorrow
morning/' said Dyer, "But we'll show you the tourist routes just as soon
as you have eaten and rested."

An hour later the five explorers from Virginia followed Jim and Bill down
a stone stairway into a small sinkhole that was the cave entrance. As we
passed through the doorway at the bottom of the sinkhole, Jim flipped a
light switch, revealing a passage fifteen feet wide stretching ahead of us.
Floyd Collins, who had discovered the cave in 1917 when he crawled into
a small hole in the bottom of the sinkhole to retrieve a trap, had dug out the
floor so that tourists could walk in and view the cavern.

We foUowd our guides along the passage that was smoothly roofed by
a perfectly flat layer of limestone. This was immediately below the layer of
Cypress Sandstone. The walls pinched in, then retreated as we passed a sign
warning visitors not to touch the formations. We passed rocks piled up at
the sides of the trail by Floyd and his brothers during the 192ffs.

We came to the brink of Grand Canyon where our flashlights barely
pricked tibe darkness. Then Jim swto&ed on floodlight, revealing a vast,

From Darkness into Darkness 7

crescent-shaped chamber that extended out of sight around the bend. From
our vantage point near the ceiling seventy-five feet above the floor, a trail
snaked downward between walls thirty feet apart. This width increased to
almost a hundred feet in the center of the room. The dull gray of the pas-
sage behind us was replaced by golden brown walls.

At the bottom of Grand Canyon the room looked even larger. We could
see a large passage extending off at right angles to the big room in both
directions. In this cross-like intersection was Floyd Collins' tomb. A bronze
casket rested on the floor in front of a granite marker which bore Collins'
epitaph. It had been his wish that he be buried here in the cave he loved
so dearly.

Floyd Collins was quick to realize the commercial value of the cave he
discovered. He dug out the entrance tunnel and constructed paths through
the large passages so that he would be able to show the cave to tourists.
This inevitably plunged the Collins family into the keen competition that
exists between the many commercial cave operators of the area, men who
were secretive about what they had and suspicious of their neighbors. It
is said that Collins found passages he thought led to the property of others.
He feared that another part of Crystal Cave might be shown to the public
by a competitor using another entrance, or that vandals might slip in the
back way to destroy the beautiful travertine and gypsum formations that at-
tracted people to his cave. There are rumors that he blocked with
boulders the passages he thought were a potential danger. We can only
speculate on whether this is true, for Floyd was careful what he told others
about his cave and didn't always confide even in his brothers. Many secrets
died with him.

Floyd Collins was first and foremost an explorer. At every opportunity
he wormed his way through the crawlways beyond the tourist trails to ex-
plore his limestone labyrinth. He worked alone, partly because secrecy was
necessary and partly because that was the make-up of the man. With a
kerosene lantern and meager rations he would disappear for days at a time
to push into the unknown, apparently with little concern for the hardships
he faced or even for his own safety.

Floyd was driven by the cave explorer's insatiable curiosity to see what
lay around the next bend in the passage ahead. But he also realized the
commercial value of another entrance closer to a highway, if he could con-
trol that entrance. To reach Crystal Cave tourists had to drive several miles
from the main road past compelling signs advertising the caves of compe-
titors. Floyd thought he could alleviate this disadvantage, for he suspected

8 The Caves Beyond

Sand Cave, about five miles to the south, connected with his Crystal, and
Sand Cave was close to a main highway. In the crawlways of Crystal Cave
he squirmed toward Sand Cave, but so far as we know did not find a con-
nection. Then he wriggled through Sand Cave, seeking to make the connec-
tion from that end. He did not succeed, so he tried again.

On Saturday, January 30, 1925, the world read the name of Floyd Col-
lins as newspapers carried the story that he was trapped in little-known
Sand Cave in the hills of central Kentucky, The reading public seemed to
hold its breath as it waited to hear of the rescue of this spirited explorer.
In Louisville, Kentucky, William Burke ("Skeets") Miller, a young cub re-
porter for the Courier- Journal, requested to be assigned to the story. After
some persuasion his city editor agreed, but warned, "Now don't you go
crawling around in any cave."

Miller arrived at the cave on Monday, February 1, as a cold gray dawn
was breaking. There were only three local people standing near the bleak
cave entrance. When Miller quizzed them about the tragedy, he was told,
"There's the cave. Go down and get your own story." He took up this chal-
lenge and slipped his small, hundred-and-ten-pound frame into the crawl-
way under jumbled boulders.

With flashlight in hand he squirmed forward on his stomach like a craw-
fish. As he crawled through the damp tunnel that appeared ready to col-
lapse, he came to a short drop. He slipped and fell headfirst into the hole,
landing on a soft, wet mass. The mass groaned. It was Collins! Miller
squirmed to the side and asked the trapped man how he was, but Collins
jabbered incoherently. Miller slipped one leg in beside Collins but could go
no farther. The crawlway was so small that Collins* body blocked it* A
boulder Floyd had dislodged rested on Floyd's leg, holding bim prisoner in
this dark, dripping place. Collins lay on his left side, his head towaid the en-
trance, so that, although rescuers could not squeeze past him to free his
leg, they could feed him,

Skeets helped Floyd adjust the burlap that had been placed about the
trapped man's head to protect him from the discomforts of dripping water*
Then Skeets Miller returned to the surface to file his story.

By Monday afternoon and Tuesday a crowd of "outlanders," as the natives
called the reporters and curiosity seekers, had gathered at the cave. The
hopeless drama of a man fighting for his life beneath the surface of the
earth unfolded against a backdrop of cut-throat newspaper reporting.
Through an error, Millers first story was routed to a rival newspaper and
the Courier-Journal reporter's account was spread across its firont pages*
Later, some reporters claimed the cave accident was all a IHMUC arranged by

From Darkness into Darkness

9

SKETCH MAP OF

FLOYD COLLINS CRYSTAL CAVE-

MAMMOTH CAVE AREA

SCALE

Colltas, Miller, and the Cotifter-Joumol. A rumor started that each night
Floyd CoIItos left the cave by a secret exit, returning in the morning to feign
the aoddexrt for its publicity value. Things went so far that film was even
switched by an unseiru|mlou5 photographer and Charles A. Lindbergh, who

10 The Caves Beyond

had been sent to the cave to fly pictures to Chicago, unsuspectingly deliv-
ered blank film to his paper instead of the photographic record of the
tragedy.

As the crowds grew, martial law was declared and a military guard placed
at the cave entrance. Miller was named pool correspondent and was the
only reporter allowed in the cave.

Skeets Miller was touched by the plight of the doomed man. He crawled
under the dangerous sandstone boulders that roofed Sand Cave to bring
comfort and to attempt rescue for the helpless Collins. He brought in hot
soup that Collins hungrily drank, and he laid a string of electric lights in
the cave. He wrapped a bulb in burlap and placed it against Collins* neck
to keep him warm, The delirious man understood the kindness and tried to
express his appreciation.

Then Miller dragged a jack and a crowbar into the cave to attempt to
raise the boulder, but he could not get enough leverage to move it. Next
he tried to slip the jack under the boulder. Working patiently in terribly
cramped quarters, Skeets finally forced the jack in place. Floyd's plight was
not hopeless! The jack would surely raise the boulder. Miller started work-
ing the handle up and down; the boulder moved a fraction of an inch.
Then the jack jumped free and the boulder settled back into place. Tedi-
ously, Miller poked and struggled until he got the jack in place again; but
it only slipped away when he started to raise it Again he tried and again
he failed, but he kept at it until he had tried every possibility and had ex-
hausted himself. Reluctantly, Miller returned to the surface.

Shortly after Miller had returned from feeding Collins, part of Sand Cave
collapsed, Miller re-entered the cave to determine the seriousness of the
rock-fall and found the passage blocked a short distance from where Floyd
lay trapped. Miller called out to Floyd. From the other side of the barrier
Floyd's answer came back, "Come on down; I'm free.'*

"If you're free, reach the bottle of milk I've placed in the crevice over
your head," shouted Miller.

After a short silence a dull monotone came back through the rock-fall;,
"No-I'm not free," These were the last words anyone heard from Floyd
Collins.

With utmost haste, a shaft was started on the surface over the spot where
Floyd lay trapped. Twelve days after Miller had last spoken to Floyd the
diggers broke through to find that Floyd Collins had died of exposure. His
body was removed and eventually placed in a bronze casket in the oeaater
of Grand Canyon Avenue in Floyd Collins Crystal Cave,

From Darkness into Darkness

11

I looked up from the casket when Jim Dyer said, "Come on. I'll show
you some formations that will knock your eye out."

Jim Dyer and Bill Austin led the way up a trail that climbed out of the
far end of Grand Canyon. We rose to the level of the entrance and snaked
along a narrow trail past the crude wooden wheelbarrow Floyd had used
to haul out rock and earth excavated to make accessible new trails. It was
brown and rotting in the damp cave air. Jim explained that we were on the
Helictite Route.

Helictites (top) grow on
stalactites (hanging down-
ward) and columns (cen-
ter). On the floor are sta-
lagmites. Constantly drip*
ping water continues to
deposit calcium carbonate
on live cave formations.
Photo by James Dyer.

Ten minutes later we stood looking at a dazzling display of stalac-
tites and stalagmites. The white and reddish-brown stalactites hung like
icicles from the ceiling* Water dripped slowly from them and splattered on
stalagmites that reached upward from the floor. This water had worked its
way from the surface through cracks in the limestone and had become satu-
rated with calcium carbonate, the principal constituent of limestone. As
each drop hung from the md of a stalactite some of the water evaporated
and a minute deposit of caletoa carbonate, or travertine was left behind.

12 The Caves Beyond

More of the water evaporated after the drop hit the stalagmite below and
left a slight deposit at the top of the stalagmite. In this way the stalag-
mites grow upward and the stalactites grow downward. We saw some
columns reaching from floor to ceiling that had been formed when stalac-
tites and stalagmites grew together.

Then we saw the helictites on the walls and ceilings alongside the trail.
These rare formations were everywhere. They curled upward and down-
ward, stretching their white stone tendrils in every possible direction. Some
formations looked like shredded coconut, others like Medusa's snaky locks.
Even at that time scientists were unable to explain their growth satisfac-
torily. Very recently the theory has been advanced that they are formed
under dry condition^ by the growth of wedge-shaped aragonite crystals
along a spiral axis.

We retraced our steps to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and turned
left into the side passage Floyd had explored the day he discovered the
cave. The passages and galleries had been formed below the water table
where water filled every crack in the rock. The water dissolved the lime-
stone, enlarging the cracks into caverns. Caves thus formed are drained
when geologic uplift and downcutting streams on the surface cause the
water table to drop below the level of the caverns. The air-filled caves are
sometimes further enlarged by streams flowing across the passage floors
eroding and dissolving more limestone. While cavern building is going
on in one part of a cave another part may be filling up. Fine silt car-

^ :

W/t

A Mr*** .

*<%?'

X

> '

^

>r-

w*

^

^
t

).*

;c

s

'^

' *

*f'

Helictite formations line
the walls and curl Jn every
direction in erne portion ol
. the tourist route* Irregular
crystalline growth along a
1 spiral ads has apparently
* ^ made the fantastic shapes.
Photo by Wm. Atirffe*.

From Darkness into Darkness 13

ried down by water percolating through cracks on its way to the water table
may leave fills of clay in submerged caverns. Streams flowing into air-filled
caverns above the water table may leave deposits of silt, sand, and gravel.

Up and down we went over tourist trails, then stopped while Jim
directed our attention to gypsum "flowers'-crystals of calcium sulphate-
growing under a ledge in the Flower Garden. Many of them resembled
lilies or asters, extending featherlike petals downward They were white,
or tinged with delicate yellows and tans.

After photographing the gypsum, we moved on over blocks of breakdown,
sharp-edged boulders that had dropped from the ceiling of the passage long
before man had entered the cave. The passage itself averaged about thirty
feet wide and varied in height from ten to thirty feet, depending on how
high the piano-sized boulders were piled. Our flashlights wouldn't pierce the
blackness ahead.

This is the Valley of Decision," said Jim. "Floyd came to this spot with
a kerosene lantern on the day he first entered. He paused here, just as we
are doing, only there was no trail then. His lantern wouldn't begin to light
up the area ahead of him, so he had to make a decision, whether to go on,
or come back later with more light He decided to go on, and this is what
he found/' Then Jim turned a switch and flooded the area with light. The
Valley was an impressive room floored with red sand. It was about sixty-five
feet from floor to ceiling at its lowest point. The path climbed out of it on
the opposite bank over a hundred feet away.

The rooms were bigger now, averaging fifty to sixty feet wide. We came
to a high-ceilinged room where a chaotic collection of boulders littered the
floor and reached the ceiling at the far end, blocking further progress in
the direction we had been traveling. This was called the Devil's Kitchen.

Around the comer we stopped at a trickling stream of water falling from
the top of a dome into a shallow pit below. Jim offered us a drink. On we
went into a narrower passage, about ten feet wide and twenty feet high.
Because the walk were covered with gypsum formations varying from
flowers to great sheets covering entire wall areas, Floyd had named it the
Gypsum Route, The trail meandered along for nearly a half mile in this
manner and at each bend Jim or Bill would point out odd and beautiful
formations. One assembled an opossum's tail jutting from the ceiling, an-
other looked like the profile of a cow.

Ahead of us, whew the electric lighting ended, a boulder apparently
blocked the passage* Jim ducked under it and we followed, coming up on
the otber side. Jim pointed to a small hole fa the floor on our left and said,
go tim>ugjb there tomy&wr- That's Scotchman's Trap/'
far are we from the eeoteuoce XKW?" I asked.

14

The Caves Beyond

S//- Devil's
Kitchen

Croi*

ENTRANCE

Grand Canyon Avenue J / Flo > d CoUm Tomb

Scotchman'* Trap

COMMERCIAL ROUTES OF

FLOYD COLLINS*
CRYSTAL CAVE

KENTUCKY

100 290 4OO 5OO

Scale in Feet

"About a mile/' replied Jim, "But you haven't seen anything compared
to what youll go over tomorrow to reach the lower levels.* "

As we returned to the surface we talked of the earlier explorations of
Crystal Cave, Harry Dennison and Ewing Hood probed Crystal Cave after

From Darkness into Darkness 15

Floyd Collins' death. For years they searched for one of Collins* great dis-
coveries-a room reputed to be a mile long, known as Floyd's Lost Passage.
Finally they rediscovered this vast gallery in 1941. After World War II, Jim
Dyer, Luther Miller, and Bill Austin pushed on into whole systems of pas-
sages Floyd Collins had never seen. But the cave seemed to have no end.
Austin and Dyer could stay in the cave only as long as they could go with-
out sleep. Each time they went to the lower levels beyond Scotchman's
Trap they had to turn their backs on unexplored passages when the time
came to return to the surface, It took six hours to reach the limits of Collins'
penetration and six hours to return. This left little time for advancing the
limits of exploration. Jim Dyer was further limited since as manager of the
cave he worked seven days a week taking care of the tourist business and
could usually explore only at night. Always time and energy would run out,
and the explorers would return to the surface more and more bewildered at
the complexity of the cave.

It was with this knowledge that Roy and I had planned our three-day trip.
In most caves we were able to push to the physical limits of the passages,
but in Crystal Cave explorers turned back at their own endurance limit
while the cave went on. Roy and I felt that we could advance this endur-
ance limit and perhaps reach the limits of the cave if we managed to
establish a camp in the lower levels where we could get food and rest be-
fore continuing into the unexplored.

In the morning after breakfast we made a final check of tie equipment
we had packed the night before; then we descended into the cave. Eight
of us filed along the mile-long tourist trail to Scotchman's Trap. We were
the five Virginia cavers, an Indiana caver who had arrived late the night
before, and the two Crystal Cave veterans-Austin and Dyer.

At Scotchman's Trap we paused to light the carbide lamps on our hats.
Since the string of electric lights ended here, our only light beyond would be
what we carried on our heads. I strapped on knee pads. I had never used
them in a cave before, but I had been advised to wear them, so to save
argument, I did*

Bill Austin slipped through the hole in the floor that led to the Crawl-
way. Two others followed; then we passed our equipment through. We
were loaded heavily with food, a gasoline stove, carbide, and sleeping bags.
We carried just four steeping bags, for we had been told the difficulties
of getting supplies to the lower levels were too great to carry any more
than absolutely necessary. By sleeping in shifts we felt we could get along
comfortably.

One by one mm and bundles passed through the small hole into the

16 The Caves Beyond

Crawlway. We stationed ourselves about four feet apart and moved the
equipment from man to man over a thirty-foot stretch of Crawlway. Then
we dropped into a narrow passage with a high, ceiling and walls fourteen
inches apart. Ragged rock protrusions clutched at our clothes and we pulled
our equipment along. We began to sweat even though the temperature was
a cool 55 degrees.

Now we were on our hands and knees, then on our stomachs as I dug
my elbows and knees into the sand floor and squirmed. Dust crept up my
nostrils. The sleeping bag I was pushing before me snagged on a projec-
tion, but ahead of me Roy Charlton saw my plight and turned to free the
bag for me. Sweat streamed down my face, spattering on my gloves* Cav-
ing in Virginia had never been like this.

I now found out why the knee pads are necessary. Already my knees
throbbed, and we had come only about three hundred feet On we went
through the S Curve where we had to twist our bodies in two directions
and through the Keyhole that just barely allowed us to pass.

After several hours of crawling and squirming we came to larger passages
with canyons in the floor that we had to straddle. We came to climbs up
and climbs down. We clambered over boulders, then we crawled again.

When we entered a low wide room Bill Austin said, "Be careful, you are
on top of X Pit" At one end of the room there was an eight-foot drop into a
lower passage, and at the bottom of this a hole went down at an angle of
45 degrees. In ten feet it opened into the void of X Pit We moved into
the lower passage while Bill stayed eight feet above us to pass down the
gear. Roy caught what he thought was the last sleeping bag, then turned
away just as Bill threw down another. It hit with a thud and rolled into the
45-degree-hole toward X Pit. I watched in horror as Austin leaped down
the eight-foot drop in an effort to catch the bag. He straddled it momen-
tarily as both he and the bag skidded down toward the 140-foot shaft
Austin stopped. The bag continued into the blackness of the pit

"Joe," said Austin calmly, "you and the others stay here. Roy and I will
try to fish the sleeping bag out." They disappeared into a crawlway lead-
ing in corkscrew fashion to the bottom. In a half hour they were back with
a torn sleeping bag.

Beyond X Pit we encountered more climbing, more canyon straddling,
and the inevitable crawling. Dyer was leading now as we dropped toto a
muddy corridor that he told us was 'Mud Avenue. When we stopped to
rest I noticed that Austin and Indiana were no longer with us, but I was
too tired to wonder what had happened to them. "Lets go, boys. Time's
a wasting said Jim, and we were on the move again.

From Darkness into Darkness

17

I had completely lost my sense of direction. We had passed so many
intersections, made so many turns, gone up and down so many times. I
wondered if I could find my way out of this three-dimensional maze. I had
never been lost in a cave, and I had been in some confusing ones before. It
probably wouldn't be easy, but I thought I could find my way out if I had
to. I was glad Dyer was along, though.

We climbed up out of Mud Avenue and suddenly we were upon the vast
expanse of Floyd's Lost Passage. After eight hours of traveling through
cramped crawlways and narrow canyons, a wide, smooth-floored passage in
which we could stand was especially welcome. This "walking cave" looked
so good to me that I ran up and down in spite of my weariness, then
sprawled out on the sand floor, out of breath.

u l smell food cooking!" said Roy.

"Not down in this hole," I said gloomily. "You must be delirious." But
then I smelled it. It was beef stew!

At the Valley of Decision
Floyd Collins chose to
continue his exploration in
spite of his feeble lantern.
Photo by Jame* Dyer.

18 The Caves Beyond

We were on our feet and moving fast toward the aroma, for we had
eaten no more than a candy bar apiece in the past eight hours. Jim grinned
broadly, but said nothing.

We rounded a bend in Floyd's Lost Passage and there before us was a
glowing underground camp. Canned food was stacked neatly on a rock
shelf. A gasoline stove burned merrily under a pot of stew. Candles spread
soft, yellow light and cheer over the scene. Austin bent over the stew pot
with a spoon and Indiana sat nearby drinking a cup of coffee.

"Crystal Cave is sure full of surprises!" muttered Roy.

"But Austin is fuller," I added.

Austin, Dyer, and Indiana laughed heartily at the amazement of the Vir-
ginians. Then all of us ravenously ate the hot, nourishing food.

After supper I crept into a sack as several others bedded down for the
night. Half of the crew stayed up to spend the night exploring, the price
they paid for our lack of sleeping bags.

In the morning when the night crew crawled into the sleeping bags, Jim
Dyer took me and two others out to explore leads off of Mud Avenue. We
explored several that either led to intersections with other unexplored leads
or doubled back into Mud Avenue. But there were many more leads we
did not have time to investigate. After lunch Jim and Indiana left the cave*
The tourist business required Jim Dyer's presence on the surface.

On the evening of the second day Roy Charlton and Bill Austin went
with a party toward Bogardus Waterfall and the endurance limit we hoped
to puncture. In this area they entered a low crawlway, virgin cave* They
went forward on hands and knees for five hours, then they reached that
invisible barrier where the passage continued onward but where they
couldn't. Fatigue forced them back. Wearily, they returned to camp just
as Jim Gosney and I were arising from a good night's sleep.

Time was running out, so Gosney and I decided to start out of the cave
with some of the equipment that had to come out. The others would have
to get some sleep before they would be ready to travel

"You won't be able to find your way out," warned Austin who sat on a
sleeping bag unlacing a boot. 'Too many passages between here and the
entrance. 1 '

"Maybe," I said, "But I've been in a lot of caves and haven't seen one
yet that could lose me."

"Well be along in about six hours to lead you out," said Austin.

"Well be on the surface by then," I said, "But to pky safe, well leave
notes along the way so you'll know the route we traveled as you come along
behind." Then Gosney and I walked off toward Mud Avenue-

From Darkness into Darkness 19

When we came to the junction where we left Mud Avenue I wrote a
note. "We are turning off here. We will leave another note at Floyd's Jump-
Off/' Then at Floyd's Jump-Off I tore another sheet from my muddy note-
book and wrote: "We are finding our way all right. We will leave a note
at the X Pit." We passed X Pit, leaving an optimistic note, and headed on
toward Ebb and Flow Falls. There I left a note saying we were on our
way to the Keyhole. Thirty feet on we came to a confusing junction of
passages. Nothing looked familiar! Systematically, we tried each passage
but each led to another junction, none of which we recognized.

Back at Ebb and Flow Falls I added to the note: "We are having trouble
finding our way. Will try again and return at 3:00 P.M." We did try again,
and this time found more confusing passages and junctions. Again we re-
treated to Ebb and Flow Falls. We added to the note: "We are lost, DON'T
leave without us. Back at 4:00 P.M."

At four we returned to the Falls. We worried; perhaps this was not Ebb
and Flow Falls after all! We sat down to wait, speculating on how long
our supply of carbide would last.

When Austin, Charlton and the others arrived, we breathed more easily.
It was a pleasure to crawl in Austin's dust the rest of the way out.

When I reached the surface and lay down beside my red jeep on that
cold December night, I tried vainly to fit together the pieces of the cave I
had seen, I wanted desperately to understand Crystal Cave, but I could
not.

Jim Dyer looked at me as I lay there exhausted but wide awake, and with
a playful smile he asked, "Well, Joe, do you want to try it again?"

"Let me catch my breath for a couple of days," I said, "then I might do
it But if I ever go back in there I'm going to stay a week, and 111 have
enough people along to really explore that hole."

The smile left Jim's face and he looked at me intently, for he had not
expected such an answer from one who had just spent three days in the
arduous passages of Crystal Cave. My answer also reminded Jim of his own
insatiable desire to understand the cave. He knew infinitely more about it
than I, but his knowledge left him with more questions about the parts
of the cave he did not comprehend.

Bill Austin looked at me and said, "When you are ready, Joe, we're with
you. There's a lot down there we don't understand."

My experience in Crystal Cave had started a fire within me, a fire I
shared with tibe veterans of Crystal. Others had come before and others
would come after, and their taste of Crystal would start fires within them.

20 The Caves Beyond

Bob Handley, an ardent explorer who had worked with me to conquer
the lower levels of Starnes Cave in Virginia, had seen Crystal Cave and felt
the urge to penetrate the veiled unknown of the Crystal Cave system. Three
cavers from Ohio, Roger Brucker, Phil Smith, and Roger McCIure, were to
view the lower levels of Crystal Cave for a day and leave with the burning
desire to return and to understand. It was in the minds of those who had
seen the cave and been turned back by the endurance limit that the 1954
Floyd Collins* Crystal Cave Expedition was born.

RUN LIKE HELL

WHEN JIM DYEE BESIGNED as manager of Floyd Collins 1 Crystal Cave in
1952, Bill Austin took the job. He moved into the house a hundred
yards from the cave entrance beside the old Collins homestead, which was a
square frame building like hundreds of other unpretentious Kentucky
homes built early in the century. It was here at Crystal that Bill had cut his
teeth on cave exploring under the tutorship of Jim and a handful of others.
By this time, he had spent hundreds of hours in Crystal Cave's depths, and
with each trip to the lower levels he brought out penetrating questions that
no one could answer.

With the challenge right under his living room he couldn't forget it, even
though the tourist business made great demands on his time and energy.
Where did B Trail go? What was at the end of Mud Avenue? Was there
unexplored cave at the top of Fools Dome, an intriguing alcove within
easy reach of Floyd's Lost Passage, but a target for skilled rock climbers
to reach? On many occasions he had stood at the bottom of it looking up
into the small hole leading to the unknown, wishing that his occupation
was cave exploring and that he could devote full time to alleviating his
"cave itch/' *

The drive to find out what was there took him below again and again,
but he realized that he could not explorers cave to its limits with just
two or three companions, no matter how many times they returned. He
began to turn over in his mind the idea of a week-long exploration trip, the
same idea I had expressed when our party emerged baffled and unsatisfied
after three days in the bkck wilderness of injgpecttag passages. The net-

21

22 The Caves Beyond

work didn't spread in just one direction; it went six: north, south, east,
west, up and down. Each passage led to more passages and each canyon
led to more canyons. It seemed to him, as it had to his predecessors, that
discovery was a logarithmic progression in which you squared the unknown
each time you made a discovery.

There are more crawlways and passages than explorers have time
or stamina to explore. This is Crystal Cave's endurance barrier.
Photo by James Dyer.

Bill lay awake many nights over this mystifying grid-work. It would
take a large sustained expedition to wrench free the secrets of Ctystal
Cave. Perhaps then he would find out where the canyons went aacl where
the streams emptied. He might find the fabulous Big Room two earlier
explorers had babbled about They had described an immense chamber so
large that a two-cell flashlight failed to reach the walls when they had stood
in the center of it. In the middle, they said, was a large boulder, so big
that they got lost when they started walking around it Was this a Paul Bun*
yan story, a creation of their minds? Or did it really exist, waiting only for
some explorer to enter the right crawlway?

And what about the Spaniard's story? The Spaniard,** now a legeodaxy
figure but well-remembered by Jim Dyer, had started around Ae world

Run Like Hell 23

in quest of adventure. When he reached Kentucky he sought Crystal Cave
and wangled permission to explore the lower levels. He went in with blue
chalk in his pockets to mark the way and a blanket roll over his* shoulder.
He traveled through the Crawlway, leaving a trail of prominent blue arrows
behind that can still be seen. Three days later he emerged, raving about
the vistas he had seen. He had seen roaring torrents of water. At one place
he had tied his blanket to a projection of rock in the ceiling and had swung
across the raging river on the blanket. Then he had found majestic drapery
formations encrusted with crystals of selenite. Finally, he had been turned
back at the shore of a deep lake too wide for him to cross, but on its op-
posite banks he had seen travertine columns eight feet high and a glistening
city of stalactites and stalagmites.

Austin had never seen such bodies of water in Crystal Cave. Neither had
Jim Dyer. Generally speaking, the known portions of Crystal Cave were
too dry for the building of large travertine formations. Was the Spaniard's
tale fact or fiction? Until Austin had satisfied himself that he had seen all
the cave, he couldn't be sure.

Natives in the area told stories too, describing how Floyd Collins would
disappear into the cave for days at a time, then turn up in some farmer's
cornfield miles away. Floyd would stagger to the nearest farmhouse and
ask where he was. How much was legend? Could an expedition find other
entrances to the system? Bill Austin had to know.

Dr. E. Robert Pohl, a geologist and the son-in-law of the cave owner,
was just as eager to have a well-organized expedition penetrate the lower
levels. They both knew that if there was any group that could handle such
an expedition it was The National Speleological Society, Both were active in
the society, as are most serious cave explorers around the country.

It was just before the society's Louisville Convention in April, 1953, that
N.S.S. President Charles Mohr fell completely under the spell of Crystal.
For several evenings from dusk to midnight he set up his batteries of flood-
lights along the formation-rich passageways and filmed the mineralogical
wonders. Then, transferring activities to an all-night restaurant at the bus
depot in Cave City, he would sit with Bill Austin and Jim Dyer almost till
dawn, listening to their descriptions of Floyd's Lost Passage, and other far-
away places in the lower levels.

In their enthusiasm, Bill, Jim, and Doctor Pohl invited Charles to get a
group of the best cavers together immediately and make a descent into
Scotchman's Trap* "You've got to see it for yourself," they said. But the
formal meetings of the Convention would be starting within two days, in
Louisville. After the meetings the cavers would be heading back home.

24 The Caves Beyond

Furthermore, such a venture would require much time for planning. So
Charles Mohr had to pass up the chance.

But he believed there must be a concerted effort by an expedition of
competent cave explorers. Certainly if the N.S.S. were to go in and look,
they would look long and deep, When they did they wouldn't add to the
store of legend; they would scrutinize, measure, photograph, and record
what they saw. They wouldn't describe raging rivers, but a stream of
twenty-five gallons per minute. They wouldn't rave about vast, vague
rooms, they would record a chamber as 5000 feet long. And they wouldn't
bring out tales of mysterious subterranean creatures; they would report in
detail on the habits of Pseudanophthalmus tellkampfi in Crystal Cave en-
virons. Dr. Pohl and Bill Austin agreed to invite formally the N.S.S. to make
a full-scale expedition into Crystal Cave, and in September, 1953, Bill wrote
the letter to Charles Mohr.

Mohr conveyed the invitation to the Board of Governors of The National
Speleological Society. After a lively discussion of the problems posed by
the cave, the board appointed a committee consisting of the president,
Charles Mohr, a past president, Bill Stephenson, and the vice president in
charge of organization, Joe Lawrence, Jr. They were empowered to inves-
tigate the possibility of staging an expedition, and if they thought the idea
feasible, they were to undertake the venture as soon as possible,

Charles Mohr cornered me after the society's board meeting and we
decided to get together two days later in Philadelphia. He wanted to hear
all about my previous three-day trip to the lower levels. At this meeting,
Mohr read over my report of our last trial by exhaustion.

"To push beyond the present endurance limit," I explained, "we must
establish a camp deep inside the cave. The explorers will have to push
beyond that camp, using it as a base of operation for food and sleep. Sup-
port teams will have to be based on the surface, so they can cany on a
continuing resupply of the camp."

"You tried something like that in 1951, didn't you, Joef said Mohr.

"Not exactly. We carried all our supplies with us when we entered Not
enough to last more than three days, so we had to come out before we were
able to take full advantage of our underground camp."

Mohr screwed up his face. "Then, how many days do you think we ought
to plan on staying down there?''

"I know there's enough cave to keep us busy for a week, maybe more,**

"Then we ought to plan on at least a week underground,* said Mohr.
"And it sounds to me as though we're going to need twenty, maybe thirty
people to do it. They'll have to be experienced, of course. J^e need the

Run Like Hell 25

cream of the society. Our scientific people will jump at the chance to study
the geology and fauna."

"We'll need surveyors, a lot of them. You know, Charles, exploration
doesn't mean anything unless we survey our discoveries and know exactly
where they are."

"Communications, Joe. Could we use telephones?"

"I don't know. I don't see how we could get wire through the Crawlway.
It's a struggle just to get yourself through. But we have to have communi-
cations on an operation this size . . . wires will have to go through the
Crawlway no matter how difficult it is."

The Collins home was like a hundred others in this desolate region
of Kentucky in 1917. Floyd Collins discovered his cave in a sink-
hole three hundred feet from his front porch. Photo by James Dyer.

Mohr got up from his chair and began to pace the room. If someone
gets hurt . . * we have to have a doctor. More than a doctor; he's got to
be much more than that He has to be a caver too. Just any doctor couldn't
be counted on to get a victim out through the Crawlway. Probably would
become a casualty himself"

I mentally ran down tibe list of doctor-cavers I knew, "I can think of two
who'd Bll tfee bill"

26 The Caves Beyond

"Well get one," said Mohr. "But most important, we need a leader, and
soon."

*1 know of only three men who could do the job," I said. "They all have
the ability to lead and plan the thing, and they know what they're up
against in Crystal." Then my objective viewpoint crumbled into a heap of
scattered thought. I silently wished I could lead this expedition that would
probably be the largest of its kind ever attempted in America. We would
do things that had never been done before. We would overcome obstacles
that loomed impossible now. But most important to me, we would feel the
thrill of making the first set of footprints across the smooth dirt floor of
passages deep within the earth. To find out where the lower levels lay
would be the fulfilment of a dream born three years ago on a cold winter
night at the mouth of Floyd Collins* Crystal Cave. Mohr was talking now.

". . . how about it? Will you lead, Joe?"

I turned cold and tingly all over. "Why ... ah ... Charles, I'd like
nothing better in the world. You know how I feel about it. Yes, 111 lead."

Charles looked across the room at my wife who had been sitting silently,
listening. For two hours I had forgotten she was there. "Frankie, what do
you think about all this?" asked Charles. I somehow hadn't told her the
purpose of the meeting tonight.

With qualms I looked toward her. "I'm afraid I haven't told her about
all this. Frankie, what do you think? Would you be unhappy if I spent a
week underground?"

With an understanding smile she said, "Joe > you know I wouldn't object.
You were caving before you married me, and you probably will go on
caving until the day you die. You'd better go on this trip." I felt much better.

I started planning immediately. In the conversation with Charles Mohr
we had sketched out the over-all objectives, but there were many details
to work out. I thought there would be hundreds of them. I was wrong.
There were thousands.

I began contacting key personnel in the society. There were experts in
all phases of speleology who would have to be interviewed. I wrote to Bill
Austin with the wonderful news and was happy to get back an enthusiastic
letter. Some words at the bottom of the page loomed large in njy mind, for
they threw up the biggest challenge of all:

"We have given the ball to The National Spekological Society, Its up to
you boys to run like hell"

Could we do it? Could we put thirty people hundreds of feet under-
ground in an unexplored cave and not lose any of them in the labyrinth?
;QouId we do it without risking tragic consequences? French explorer Mar-

Run Like Hell 27

eel Loubens had met his death in a cave in the Pyrenees because of faulty
equipment. Floyd Collins died an agonizing death trapped in Sand Cave
because he didn't follow the rules. Could a large party follow the rules?
Or would we fail because somebody "dropped the ball?"
I made up my mind to run like hell.

BLUEPRINT FOR ACTION

SINCE AN EXPEDITION of the type we proposed had never, to our knowl-
edge, been undertaken before, I reviewed the literature on the subject
of expeditions. A study of European literature on speleology, especially
reports of cave exploring in England and France, revealed to me that their
problems were always different from ours because of the nature of their
caves. Often these explorers were confronted by the problem of "vertical
caving," descending great depths through a shaft-like well to reach the
cave where exploration would begin. More often than otherwise, what lay
beyond the surmounting of the entrance pitch was a cave comparable in
proportions to the majority of American caves. For this reason, European
speleological efforts had been directed toward quick and efficient methods
of getting to the bottom and getting down to business.

In reading accounts of some of the activities of the seventy or more
autonomous cave exploring societies in Britain, time and again I discovered
three-, four-, and even five-day trips to "potholes," in which one or two days
were devoted to the physical problem of rigging the entrance. Elaborate
plans were laid involving the use of hundreds of feet of cable ladders,
block and tackles, winches, and similar deep-cave equipment In some
cases, twenty or more people would turn out and would be pressed into
service in ways unthinkable to us. Men would be stationed on narrow ledges
at the top of ladder-rigged drops, sometimes under soaking waterfalls. Their
job was to belay safety lines for the relatively few chosen to penetrate the
horizontal part of the cave. Eight hours of waiting on such a ledge often
brought men to the endurance limit, but more often than not^ ft brought

28

Blueprint for Action 29

the explorers working below to the end of the cave. All hands would then
turn to for fellowship around a roaring campfire.

French cave explorers also engaged in this activity on a grand scale in
the Pyrenees near the border of Spain. Sheer-walled shafts, or dolines, in
that great limestone massif intrigued them, challenging them to go deeper
and deeper. Toward this end, French planning had been directed, in the
main, toward perfecting intricate winch mechanisms which somehow sel-
dom lived up to their designer's expectations. To be sure, both British and
French cave explorers were skilled in climbing techniques, more so than
the majority of American cave explorers. But that was not the problem
confronting us.

The closest parallel to our operation was found in reports of the French
attempt to explore Padirac, a French commercial cave containing a river
of the same name. By elevator the explorers descended to the river level,
then launched their rubber boats into the stream. Tents, sleeping bags,
stoves, and other equipment became drenched when the boats were hauled
over the succession of natural dams blocking navigation. At one endurance
limit the intrepid explorers pitched their tents on a breakdown bridge in
the main passage. From this base of operations they launched daily as-
saults upstream in an effort to reach the uttermost limits of the river. Al-
ways they were turned back by fatigue and lack of supplies.

The problem of Padirac was clearly not the problem of Floyd Collins 1
Crystal Cave. In the first place, heavy equipment such as tents and large,
two-man rubber boats could not be carried into the depths of Crystal, The
Crawlway, a natural barrier a quarter of a mile long, dictated that. In
Crystal, there was not the convenient goal of penetrating one long passage.
Instead, there were scores of interconnected passages all of which had to
be explored in spite of their confusing complexity and man-killing length.

In the literature of mountain climbing we found valuable information on
logistics which would stand us in good stead. One answer seemed to lie in
predicating our plans on a series of two or more camps within the cave,
depending on the results of reconnaissance, space for such camps, and the
presence of an adequate uncontaminated water supply. Unfortunately, we
could not draw on native Sherpas and porters to do the back-breaking work
of moving supplies. We would have to travel light, perhaps using the best
explorers we had to insure even a steady trickle of supplies to those work-
ing below.

I could not trust my own judgment alone to plan the details for the un-
dertaking, so I sought expert assistance from specialists within The National
Speleological Society. I asked M. Gfcard Bloch, one of our foremost rock-

30 The Caves Beyond

climbing authorities and students of equipment, and John D. Parker, a
speleologist and safety expert, to help me in preliminary planning. Both
men were eminently qualified in their respective fields, so I was more than
happy when they agreed to meet with me in Philadelphia.

At these planning meetings we listed the objectives of the Crystal Cave
expedition in clear-cut terms. The over-all purpose would be to study
the Floyd Collins' Crystal Cave system in all its aspects. This meant study-
ing geology and hydrology of the cave in particular, and describing the
plant and animal life found in it. We would study cave "weather," meteoro-
logical aspects of air pressure, temperature and air movement. We would
attempt to determine the extent of the cave and the relationship of the
passages to each other by surveying as much as possible in the time al-
lotted. This alone would carry us into the unknown beyond the endurance
barrier. We wanted the expedition physician to study the effects on indi-
viduals of a prolonged stay underground. His findings would be of signifi-
cance to future expeditions of this type. We realized that as we went along
we would resolve many problems which would go on record to aid plan-
ning staffs of future ventures.

With a lucid statement of our objectives on paper, we were able to settle
down to the job of determining our requirements in personnel, time, money,
and equipment. My earlier discussion with N.S.S. President Charles Mohr
had already indicated a possible complement of from twenty to thirty per-
sons. Now, it seemed that thirty would be the absolute minimum for con-
sideration, and that to accomplish anything significant at all, we would
have to plan on no less than seven working days underground.

"Joe, you mean these thirty people are going to drag all their food and
equipment into the cave before they start working?" said Block "Why, itll
take two or three days just to complete the build-up in Camp One. Then
you'll have a group of exhausted malcontents on your hands. Never heard
of a cave mutiny before, but we may have one yetr

Bloch had thrown a stumper at me. Parker and I thought in silence.

"What about this? Why don't we drill a well, maybe six inches in diam-
eter, down to the Lost Passage?" said Parker. Then all we have to do is
dump in six cases of assorted canned food every morning,*

"Fine idea," I said, "But we don't even know where the Lost Passage is.
It might be two miles away, then again it might be right under Grand
Canyon. That's what we're trying to find out*

More silence.

Bloch had an idea. "Well have to think in terms of moie people. That's
all there is to it. Since we don't know the magnitude of what we're getting

Blueprint for Action 31

into, let's face it; all we can do is set an arbitrary minimum figure of thirty
people for a week underground. From that constant, we have to figure out
how many people we need to supply them," The foot was in the door.
There would be more people.

In the United States up to this time caves had been studied by small
groups of people on short trips. Week-ends found cave explorers journeying
by automobile to a cave, perhaps a hundred miles away, then returning to
their jobs on Monday mornings. It's an ideal way to study caves since the
problems of large-scale expeditions are avoided. Consequently we were be-
ginning to see the inadequacy of our experience in dealing with problems
growing out of a cave too large to be handled by conventional means. We
must have a large expedition to pry loose the secrets buried beyond the
Crawlway. Finding no ready answer to the exact size of the expedition
roster, we decided that we might determine the optimum proportions by
starting personnel planning from the top. We agreed to follow the military
concept of separating command and staff functions.

Under me, at the top of the command pyramid, would be two assistant
expedition leaders. On the next level there would be a support group leader
at the Base Camp on the surface directing supply operations. There would
be an exploration group leader at our main underground camp directing
operations there. All work in the cave would be performed by small parties
of from two to four people, since experience in smaller caves had taught
us that larger parties are slow and inefficient. Safety considerations make
exploring by lone individuals out of the question. Each party would be
commanded by a leader appointed in turn by the support or exploration
group leader.

The specialists who made up the staff were to be a geologist, meteorolo-
gist and hydrologist, biologist, chief surveyor, chief photographer, and
physician. The staff would also include those responsible for the technical
aspects of support: a communications officer, supply officer, and information
officer.

The table of organization appeared complete on paper, but the names
of individuals who would fill those slots would determine the success or
failure of the expedition. Slowly names were lettered in the proper boxes.
The first selected was John L. Spence, a design engineer and president of
the New York Camera Club. His background in the development of spe-
cialized photographic equipment, coupled with his extensive photographic
knowledge, made him a logical choice for chief photographer. He, as all
those who would be chosen, had extensive experience in caves of varying
degrees of difficulty* A pictorial record of the expedition would be essential,

32 The Caves Beyond

both for the scientific aims, and for the documentation of its progress. After
his appointment, he made frequent trips from New York to Philadelphia
to participate in planning sessions.

For a second-in-command I wanted someone thoroughly familiar with
the known portions of Crystal Cave. Bill Austin was the ideal man for the
job, so I lateraled the ball to him and we both started running. On the
choice of third-in-command I picked William Stephenson, pioneer in Amer- '
ican speleology and founding president of The National Speleological So-
ciety. He brought with him a wealth of leadership experience garnered
from almost fifteen years of leading cave explorations.

In response to a story about our activities in The News, the monthly pub-
lication of the N.S.S., applications poured in from experienced members of
the society scattered around the country. Even non-members wrote for ap-
plication blanks. One girl rodeo rider of adventuring blood pleaded to go
along, even if she would only be allowed to cook inside the cave. She
claimed valuable experience from leading Girl Scout groups on camping
trips, but admitted that she had never attempted cave exploring. She had
done almost everything else: driving race cars, climbing mountains, and skin
diving. She had done everything, it seems, except navigate Niagara Falls in
a barrel. I had to tell her that she could not be considered for the expedi-
tion. We had no place for daredevils.

In the vanguard of applications submitted were the names of several men
already experienced in Crystal. Roy Charlton, the lean, wiry farmer from
Virginia who had been with me on the three-day trip to the lower levels,
was eager to return. Bob Handley, a lanky West Virginian, had taken "the
tour" in Crystal's lower levels several times. Applications from Ohio came
in simultaneously from Roger Brucker, Phil Smith, Roger McCIure, and of
course Jim Dyer. Austin contacted Jack Lehrberger in Louisville, a man
well-versed in the problems of cave exploring in the "big cave country* of
Kentucky. An application was there from Luther Miller, a veteran of earlier
assaults on the endurance barrier in Crystal's lower levels.

Applications from the cream of the crop of American cave explorers fil-
tered into the society's headquarters in Washington, D.C Ackie Loyd, an
experienced hand in Virginia caves and an extremely intelligent observer
of the underground world, wanted to go along. Ida Sawtelle's application
was there. A dog trainer by profession, she was acknowledged one of the
nation's outstanding women cave explorers, having ventured into School*
house Cave, the country's classic underground rock-climbing challenge.
Earl Thierry, civil engineer and part-time cave explore^ had cavfcd & W$st
Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. George Welsh knew
in Indiana and Kentucky.

Blueprint for Action 33

There was an application from Dr. Ralph W. Stone, former State Geologist
of Pennsylvania, and one of the nation's outstanding speleologists. He
wanted to help in any way he could. I was overjoyed that he wanted to
serve as advisor for the geologists.

Screening the applications and considering each man on the basis of
his experience, and personal observation by myself and others, proved to
be a difficult and continuing job which would not be complete until the
final hour when the expedition assembled at the cave.

We had arrived at a date for the expedition; we would start into the cave
on Sunday, February 14th, 1954, and emerge on the following Saturday,
the 20th.

Working continuously on the personnel selection problem, the planning
staffs also considered the commonplace. How would explorers stand sleep-
ing underground night after night? We had already proved that a few of
us could take it for three days, and the French in Padirac had been able
to extend their stay to six. We also knew that at the end of that time both
groups had nearly reached the breaking point in terms of exhaustion. When
one of the explorers who had been with us on our three-day trip into Crys-
tal heard of our discussions, he wrote: T don't much like the idea of camp-
ing underground for more than two nights straight. Somehow it dampens
the spirit . . ." Soggy spirit or not, we decided to take the calculated risk
and try it

Transporting equipment through the Crawlway, and especially through
the Keyhole, loomed in our minds as a critical problem. We knew a sleep-
ing bag would go through the Keyhole's 10-by-24-inch opening, but a con-
stant stream of supplies of every description was another matter. Several
of us lost a few good night's sleep over that puzzle, but remembering that
our chief photographer, John Spence, was a design engineer, we let him
worry about that problem. >

We considered the problems of feeding thirty people underground on a
sustained basis. For cooking we had momentarily considered dragging bags
of charcoal down to our camp, but we thought better of it. Profiting by
previous experience in the cave, we remembered that meals had been pre-
pared for many years at Floyd's Kitchen in the Lost Passage on a Coleman
gasoline stove* Pound for pound, we would get more heat from gasoline,
but we didn't reckon fully with some problems that were to be an out-
growth of this decision*

Working together we drew up a list of personal clothing and equipment
to be carried in by eaqploi^is and scientists based at the underground camp.
We rdfed oa my experience to Crystal and the experience of others in
smaller caves for the ^mp^teaess of this list. We jOawd to purchase

34 The Caves Beyond

large vinyl plastic bags to issue to each man in which he could pack his
gear, reasoning that the bag would keep out moisture and insure a dry
change of clothes.

Continually we lapsed back, finding ourselves thinking of Crystal Cave
as just another cave of the variety we habitually visited. Communications
were no problem in these, but operations in Crystal would be another mat-
ter. The size of the group, the distances and the logistics needed, demanded
that we be able to communicate between underground camps and Base
Camp. Charles Mohr and I had talked of a telephone line, but neither of
us realized that, far beyond a convenience, it would be a necessity. With-
out telephone communications we might just as well fold up our tents and
go home. Survey notes and explorers' findings would have to be conveyed
to base camp instantaneously, so others could plot and evaluate them. No
phone meant no correlation of data until it would be too late in the week
to be of use to continuing operations. We had to know at all times the
status of provisions in the underground camps, and inventory depletions
would have to be replaced as soon after they occurred as possible. We
would have many simultaneous activities going on in various parts of the
cave and, without coordination, it would become a three-ring circus with
no meaning. Jack Parker brought up the subject of the value of a telephone
system in the event of an accident, when the efforts of rescue teams would
have to be planned. His arguments clinched the case for a phone system.
Bob Lutz, our communications officer, had a job on his hands.

To maintain a permanent record of the expedition's activities we pur-
chased a series of logbooks in which data would be recorded. Each camp
would have a log, and in it would be entered the arrival and departure
times of each party, the gist of important phone calls, and any findings that
ought to be preserved. The information officer above ground would use a
tape recorder wired into the telephone system to record important con-
versations and oral reports.

Whenever an attempt is made to do something that no one has tried be-
fore, the press and radio become interested. At our press conference in
Washington, D.C., on January 9tib, 1954, in which we announced our intent
to the public, we became suddenly aware of the impact of our plans. Ivan
T. Sanderson, vice president in charge of N.S.S. public relations, made a
quick trip to Philadelphia to discuss with me what we ought to do to satisfy
public curiosity. Obviously we had to make some provision to accommodate
the working press. He pointed out to me that we could not possibly let
every reporter who asked ,go into the cave. I heartily agreed, for the treach-
erous wilderness beyond Scotchman's Trap was no place for a novice, Ivan

Blueprint for Action 35

advanced the following plan: One newspaper reporter representing a pool
of wire services, one photographer representing a national magazine, and
one radio reporter representing a nation-wide network would be allowed to
accompany us underground. This plan seemed to satisfy our obligation
to the public with a minimum of burden on the expedition, so Ivan scurried
to Washington to iron out the details with the expedition's information offi-
cer, Burton Faust.

As more staff officers were appointed, I too found it necessary to scurry
to Washington for planning meetings. At these, we delved in detail into
the manifest problems of supply, communications, and medical considera-
tions.

When expedition physician Halvard Wanger, M.D., was chosen to fill
the medical post, he charged into action, sending lengthy mimeographed
sheets to everyone going. He prescribed immunization shots and drew up
an elaborate list of calisthenics aimed at getting people into excellent phys-
ical condition for the ordeal they would be going through later. Within
two days after the calisthenics list had reached members painful groans
rent the air: the agonized shrieks of cave explorers with sore muscles.

Planning shifted from Philadelphia to the staff officers as soon as they
were appointed, then I began receiving requests from those officers for
assistants. The information officer needed stenographic help at the cave.
The communications officer needed linemen and switchboard operators.
Tom Barr, Jr., who was by this time in charge of both biology and geology
studies, recommended two people for the posts he had created: assistant
biologist and assistant geologist.

Dr. Wanger was active in this conspiracy. One of his frequent telephone
calls from Shepherdstown, West Virginia, went like this:

WANGER: Are you going to have a nurse on the expedition?

LAWRENCE: A nurse?

WANGER: Well, I'll need some help. We ought to have a nurse along.

LAWRENCE: Look, Doc, if anyone gets that sick well send them to a hos-
pital. We're not going to run one at the cave.

WANGER: You want me to study the physical effects this trip has on
people? This means thorough physical and psychological ex-
aminations.

LAWRENCE: O.K., Doc. Ill keep my eyes open, but I'm not too sure I can
find a nurse who wants to go.

Switchboard operators, stenographers, nurses! The magnitude of the
operation was increasing. What next, assistants to the assistants? I soon

36 The Caves Beyond

found out. My wife asked me how many cooks I planned to have. When
told her plans called for one at each camp, she raised her forearm to he
brow and sighed. On learning from her that each cook would need one c
two assistants, I hit the ceiling. I could see visions of two or three hundre
people milling around supporting each other; a laundry, a filling station,
cafeteria, a repair shop. . . . Taking great pains to appear cool and calm,
said, "There will be one cook at each camp, and that's final!'*

By letter Doc Wanger informed me that he had found two excellent nurs
prospects, either one of which would fill the bill. In the next mail I receive
a letter saying they had both accepted and weren't we lucky to have them
Then another phone call. This time I decided to worry him.

LAWRENCE: Say, Doc, could you use an assistant physician?
WANGER: What? Well, I don't know. I have these two nurses . . .
LAWRENCE: There are three physicians, interns at Philadelphia Genera

who want to come. They re good cavers in excellent physica

shape.

WANGER: Three of them?
LAWRENCE: Yes, three. Can you use them?
WANGER: Not three! Now wait a minute. I might have a little somethinj

for them to do ... Be good experience for them. They'd b<

good to have in case of an accident. But I can't keep them al

busy.
LAWRENCE: O.K., Doc, 111 put them on the roster anyway. My wife says 11

need some K.P/s.

Gradually order developed out of chaos, With work delegated to staf
members we had stamped the seal of approval on the blueprint for action
All that remained was to follow the plans.

STOCKPILE

SELECTION OP EQUIPMENT confronted the planners with a myriad of
-I details. We must prescribe personal equipment for those in the cave.
We must select equipment for exploring parties, for underground camps,
and for a surface camp. We would need emergency rescue equipment, com-
munication equipment, medical supplies, and scientific instruments. All
equipment that went into the cave had to go through the Crawlway. This
placed rigid requirements of lightness, compactness, and sturdiness on our
selections, and we would take in only what was absolutely necessary.

To solve the logistical problem posed by the Crawlway, John Spence
undertook the development of a metal canister for transporting supplies.
He and Russ Gurnee designed and built four canisters for use in the Crawl-
way. Working in Gurnee's sheet-metal shop, they placed a metal cone on the
forward end of the tapered, galvanized steel cylinder. It could be dragged
by a rope tied to a ring at the point of the cone and would not snag. A
canvas cover closed the rear end after it was loaded.

Although we wanted to sleep comfortably at our underground camp, we
wanted to transport only a minimum of sleeping equipment through the
Crawlway. On our three-day trip in 1951, we had taken in half as many
sleeping bags as people, taking turns using them. We decided to follow this
plan on our week-long trip* Since it was very important that we get ade-
quate rest if we were to stay underground for a full week, we added air
mattresses to our equipment lists so that we would be as comfortable as
possible, For sanitary reason^ we planned to issue each individual his own
lightweight, cottea &teepiag-bag Iia$r*

37

38 The Caves Beyond

One member attempted to solve the problem of sleeping in a damp cave
by constructing a lightweight hammock. With the ends secured to forma-
tions, he argued, it would suspend him safely and comfortably over the
damp floor. Every night for a full week he knotted nylon ropes, and his
labors were approved, if somewhat skeptically, by all who saw the results.
The cave's dampness posed another problem in supply. The explorers
would invariably get wet while exploring among the waterfalls, streams and
pools that are so common underground. Humidity in caves often approaches
100 percent, so wet clothing is difficult to dry. Cold, wet clothing can be
one of the greatest detriments to high morale underground. The use of
desiccants seemed the solution to this problem. By placing desiccant beads
in our plastic clothing bags, we could dry soggy cave clothes.

We obtained samples of several types of desiccants and made some cal-
culations. Wet clothing that has been wrung out will weigh from one and
a half to over two times its dry weight. The desiccant we considered would
absorb no more than its own weight in water. Therefore, the weight of
desiccant required to dry our wet clothing would be quite close to the
weight of replacement items. On the basis of this analysis, there seemed to
be no real justification for the use of desiccants. Instead, we would bring
in dry clothes as needed.

We included a one-man rubber life raft so that we would be able to ex-
plore any large underground rivers we might find. For difficult rigging jobs
or for rescue work we assembled a kit of heavy tools including pulleys,
rope, a star drill, jacks, and a crowbar.

Each staff officer was responsible for assembling the specialized equip-
ment he would need. For communications there were telephones, wires,
and switchboards. The doctor had medicines, bandages, and plasma. The
biologist needed hundreds of specimen bottles while the information officer
procured a tape recorder and three typewriters.

The photographers needed equipment not available on the commercial
market. John Spence, the expedition's chief photographer, built a strong,
compact box to hold a flash unit and two cameras one for black-and-white
and one for color pictures. The cameras could be operated without remov-
ing them from the box by shooting through a Plexiglas window, Speace
also constructed a box to protect the supply of fragile flashbulbs.

Because Bob Halmi, photographer for True magazine, planned to take
thousands of pictures underground, flashbulbs were out of the question* He
sought the aid of a manufacturer of stroboscopic equipment for help on his
lighting problem. Up to this time there was no electronic flash unit strong
enough and lightweight enough for Halmi' s needs. The firm's engineers

Stockpile 39

went to work on the problem and soon developed a strob unit that met
Halmi's requirements for ruggedness, compactness, moisture resistance, and
prolonged life. Three were built for the expedition.

Compasses, tapes, and altimeters were needed for surveying. Earl Thierry,
our chief surveyor, had several compasses and tapes, but we needed more.
Phil Smith and Roger McClure went to the Ohio Division of Geological
Survey in Columbus for help. Could we borrow a compass, a Brunton com-
pass? The answer was yes. Smith and McClure left with two compasses and
three altimeters. Roger Brucker procured a fourth altimeter for the use of
the expedition.

Facilities in our Base Camp on the surface must be identified. Brucker
painted signs for the mess hall, infirmary, supply, and communications tents.
Remembering that a rock-climbing team from France had been invited, he
included a picture of a spoon on the mess hall sign, a telephone on the
communications sign, and so on. Unfortunately, the Frenchmen were unable
to join us even though they had planned up to the last minute to participate.
The pictures, however, made the signs more attractive.

We drew up a list of recommended equipment that we sent to all ex-
pedition members. Combining our recommendations with their own expe-
rience, they selected their gear. Most chose coveralls for their outer garment.
The one-piece garment was judged superior to two-piece clothing because
there was less possibility for it to snag or bunch up on the way through
the Crawlway,

Hard hats, such as miners wear, were mandatory. They offered protection
from rocks that might be dislodged above an explorer. They also prevent
injury if an explorer bumps his head on a low, irregular ceiling. There are
cases on record where helmetless cavers have received scalp cuts requiring
several stitches.

Some persons, remembering the pits in Crystal, thought it absolutely
necessary that the hard hats be clearly visible if viewed from above, so no
one would toss a rock into a pit to determine its depth if a hat at the bot-
tom shone with reflective tape* Scotchlite reflective tape strips that could
be seen from a distance in a dark cave were put on many of the hats. Some
put strips on all of their equipment so that it would be easier to find.

A caver's most important piece of equipment is his carbide lamp worn
on the hat, leaving both hands free for climbing and crawling. Since the
lamp is clamped on the front of the hat, it turns with his head, always
casting its beam where the caver is looking.

Each explorer carries a supply of carbide and water for recharging his
lamp. The containers fear these items have to be small and compact, for each

40 The Caves Beyond

item of protruding equipment makes crawling more difficult. Individuals
have strong opinions about containers. Some choose metal boxes specifically
manufactured for carbide containers, Others select tobacco cans, tobacco
pouches, or small plastic boxes the Navy has used for first-aid kits. Army
canteens are selected by some for carrying water. Others, who wish to avoid
the clumsy bulk of these canteens, choose plastic bottles. Roger Brucker
uses a plastic hip flask of the variety used by celebrating alumni at football
games. It is curved to fit the hip and is flexible,

A cave explorer is helpless without light. If his light fails he cannot move
without risking injury. Each explorer was instructed to bring a flashlight as
an emergency source of light. The flashlight would have to be sturdy to
stand up under such strenuous exploring. It was also desirable that it be
waterproof. Not only would the flashlight serve as an emergency light
source; it would also supplement the carbide light. The carbide lamp does
not cast a spot pattern but provides a flood of light illuminating a wide
angle. For this reason, it lacks the penetrating power and brightness of a
spotlight. When the explorer wanted to inspect a pit, or a long passage,

An explorer's equipment includes hard hat and carbide lamp,
gloves, knee-pads, containers for carbide and water, flashlight; per-
haps candle and matches, and rations. Photo ty John Spence.

Stockpile 41

his small-angle flashlight beam could reach well beyond the limits of his
head-lamp.

Knee protection was a necessity. The long crawlways of Crystal Cave
would abrade unprotected knees into painful uselessness. A durable rubber
knee-pad of the type used by miners and gardeners was selected. This par-
ticular item was foreign to the inventory of most cave explorers' equipment,
since few other caves in the country require crawling for such great
distances.

Shoes would have to be heavy, high-top work shoes, army shoes, or
climbing boots. Plain leather soles could not be used, for they slip on mud
and wet rock. Good traction is demanded for straddling canyons and climb-
ing pits. There was a wide variety in the selection of shoe soles. Some chose
plain rubber, others, cleated rubber, and still others preferred soles with
spikes and nails. There were tricuni nails, golf spikes, and hobnails. Each
explorer would expound long and loudly the advantages of his own foot-
gear. Some types were better than others for a specific job, but where one
excelled in one way, another was proven better in a different situation. In

Climbing equipment includes rope, pitons, karabiners, piton
hammer, boots with nails or cleats, and a flexible metal ladder.
Photo by John Spence.

42 The Caves Beyond

the final analysis we found that all forms selected were adequate for the
trip.

Rock climber Lou Lutz already owned tricuni boots and a wide selection
of additional climbing gear. He had pitons in a variety of sizes and shapes,
and a piton hammer. A piton is a spike that climbers drive into cracks in
the rock to obtain an anchor point for a belay. He had karabiners-snap
rings that are used to fasten a rope to a piton. Lou insisted on new climbing
rope so that he could be sure of its strength. First he and the other rock
climbers pulled it tight, working the kinks out of it. Then they climbed
with it, working out any remaining kinks and "breaking it in/' Finally, Lou
tied his rope in neat coils, loaded his climbing gear into John Spence's car
alongside cameras and flashbulbs, and the two started the journey to Crystal
Cave. The migration had begun.

UNDER CANVAS

ALL OVER THE COUNTRY cavers converged on Floyd Collins Crystal
JT Cave. Roger Brucker and Jim Dyer were the first to arrive. Tuesday
morning, five days before the expedition was scheduled to go underground,
a gray dawn broke as their station wagon stopped in front of Austin's house.
They knew Bill Austin would still be in bed, so they crept into the winter
office, unrolled their sleeping bags, and went to sleep,

A short time later Bill burst through the door. "Time for breakfast,
Brucker/' he yelled. Through one eye and then another, Roger saw that Jim
was already up.

Over a breakfast of sausage and eggs prepared by Bill's wife, they lis-
tened to the latest plans for the expedition. The communications team was
supposed to arrive Friday afternoon and begin stringing wire immediately.

"Say, Roger, did you hear that plan for running field telephone wires all
the way down to the Lost Passage?" said Bill.

"A real panic," he answered. "It looks to me as though the communica-
tions officer has never been in Crystal."

"Well be lucky to get one line down. It's hard enough to get there, let
alone drag wire after you," said Bill. "I hear he's bringing eight miles of
wire with himr

A car crunched on the gravel outside. They went out to find a man wear-
ing a reporter-type hat. He introduced himself as Ed Easterly, District
Chief of the Associated Press,

Tv^oome down here," he said, "to get some background material on the
.'* With that he took out his notebook and began to write. With-

43

44 The Caves Beyond

out talking very long they realized that Mr. Easterly needed a glossary of

cave terms. Brucker wrote out some definitions for him.

Then Easterly got down to business. "Just how far can y u g in ^ e
cave?" he asked.

"We don't know/' said Bill. "We've never reached the end/'

"Well, let me put it this way: how far have you gone in previous ex-
peditions?"

"Again we don't know," said Bill. "We've never measured it." Outside of
the commercial portion of the cave, no one in the world had any idea how
big it was; nobody who had ever been in Crystal knew how far he had
traveled. This much was known; it took about twelve hours to get from the
entrance to Bogardus Waterfall. From that point there were literally
dozens of passages that previous explorers had never entered. It might take
twelve hours or a hundred and twelve to run some of the passages out to
their ends.

"But what about the statement on the folder?" said Easterly* "It says
there's an estimated forty miles of cave altogether."

"Estimated is the key to that," said Jim. "Actually no one really knows
what's down there. That's why the expedition. Sure, we know a great deal
about how to get in and out, and we've done some exploring* but for
every place we've gone, there must be ten we never looked into."

"Perhaps I can help," said Brucker. Tve only made one trip in, but I
can see what you're driving at. You seem to think this cave is like one long
tunnel, and all you have to do is walk to the end of it Actually, it's like a
series of four or five spider webs superimposed on each other. The webs
interconnect at many places, and that makes the whole thing more con-
fusing."

"And," added Bill, "we don't know yet how far the extremities of these
spider webs reach."

Ed was beginning to see the magnitude of the job confronting the ex-
pedition. He asked a few more questions, thexi asked to see the commercial
part of the cave. Bill Austin nodded approval, so Brucker acted as guide,

Ed was greatly impressed at the size of Grand Canyon as the lights
came on. They continued, past the Valley of Decision through Devil's
Kitchen and along the Gypsum Route.

"How far have we come?" he asked.

"About a mile," said Brucker. "We're almost to Scotchman^ Trap where
the expedition's route to the Lost Passage starts."

"I see some of the supply problems already," Ed said. "It's a long walk
back here,"

Under Canvas 45

They were at the end of the string of electric lights now. They switched
on flashlights and walked for several minutes to a point where a huge
boulder appeared to block the path. They ducked under it and up a mound
of yellow clay on the other side. "End of the line," Brucker said. "All out
for Scotchman's Trap/'

Easterly shone his flashlight beneath the boulder leaning against the wall.
He probed the light downward into the vertex of a cone. The light picked
out a hole about eighteen inches in diameter. Everything the explorers
would use, every sleeping bag, every morsel of food, every mile of wire
would have to go through that small opening.

He looked at Brucker in amazement, then he looked back. "Why do they
call it Scotchman's Trap?" he asked.

"Because it's so tight," came the pat answer, one of Jim Dyer's favorite
"tourist" jokes.

At lunch Ed Easterly asked why people went cave exploring. Austin,
Dyer, and Brucker earnestly tried to explain, but the discussion eventually
ended in the telling of one funny cave-exploring story after another, such
as the time Bill Austin jumped into the rubber boat in Hidden River Cave
with his spiked boots on.

After lunch Easterly wanted to know what was available in the way of
phone lines. None ran to the cave, and the closest phone was located in a
national park fire tower about half a mile away. It was a private phone,
part of the park's communication system. Easterly wondered if arrange-
ments had been made to hook into it, and Bill said they hadn't. Easterly
went to see Park Superintendent T. C. Miller who granted permission to
tie into the line providing it would be kept open in the case of a fire report.

Robert J* Richter arrived in the late afternoon. As he unloaded his gear
from the trunk of his car, Dyer and Austin noticed two large shiny alumi-
num boxes.

"What's in the boxes?" asked Jim.

"Soil sample bottles," he replied, "part of the scientific program. We in-
tend to collect soil samples from all parts of the cave, then send them to
Chas. Pfizer & Company-a large pharmaceutical firm in New York. They'll
analyze the soil samples for antibiotics. Who knows, maybe well discover
another mold, like penicillin/'

"You mean you're going to try to take those boxes through the Crawl-
way?" asked Bill Austin in amazement

"I won't. The supply team will. That's their job/'

They looked at each other, then at Richter. "Those boxes won't fit through
the Crawlway,* said Bracket "They measure about fourteen inches square

46 The Caves Beyond

and about twenty-four inches long. The Keyhole would stop them if nothing

else would."

"I thought this was supposed to be a big cave!" Richter said. "What do
you mean, you can't get the boxes through?"

"The Keyhole is the limiting factor in the whole supply set-up," explained
Bill. "It's the tightest part of the Crawlway-a place where you have to
transfer from one passage into a parallel passage. The hole measures less
than ten inches high and about two feet wide."

"Then I guess well have to take the bottles in loose," he said.

Austin and Brucker left Richter counting bottles. They went into the
town of Horse Cave to pick up a sink and stove for the mess hall The
carpenters had been working all week nailing a floor and walls into Floyd
Collins' old summer office that was to be our mess hall. When they returned,
the last carpenter had finished. Brucker borrowed two of the cave's tourist
guides and set to work making a counter for the sink. By five in the after-
noon they completed this and started to work on a table from which ex-
pedition members would eat standing up. As they worked, loads of food
and supplies were carried in and deposited on the floor, generally in their
way. The kitchen was ready for business by 9:00 P.M., so Brucker went to
find Jim Dyer.

He walked out of the door of the summer office and saw lights glaring in
the medical tent. Doctor Wanger was busy setting up medical supplies, a
hundred containers full of assorted pills and liquids.

Like Dyer and Brucker, I too traveled all night to reach the cave area.
Early Thursday morning Hugh Stout, Albertine Talis, Tom Barr, and I
parked in front of a hotel in Cave City, registered, then disappeared for a
few hours of sleep.

When I came down into the lobby after a brief nap a New York caver
greeted me. "Hey, Joe, glad to see you. There are some important people
here I want you to meet."

He ushered me through the lobby, introducing me to some local business
men he had met the evening before. Next he said, "Let' s go across the street
to the Bank. I want to introduce you to the vice president You should also
meet the Judge. I had a long talk with both of them last night*

When we returned to the hotel from our visits, the desk clerk said, ^Doc-
tor, there was a gentleman in here looking for you. He wanted to show you
some blind fish." This startled me* It was the first time I had heard this New
Yorker referred to as "Doctor/' Actually, he was still woridng on his bache-
lor's degree.

After learning what a politician my friend was, I decided to put his talent

Under Canvas 47

to work. "'Doctor,' you are authorized the cost of one long-distance tele-
phone call to contact the home office of Pillsbuiy-Ballard and ask them
if they would like to contribute a supply of canned biscuits to the expedi-
tion." r

A couple of days later I walked into the expedition's Base Camp mess
hall and saw some cardboard cartons stacked against the wall. ''What's
that?" I asked.

"One-hundred and forty-four cans of Ballard's Biscuits," answered the
"Doctor." "They just arrived by express, prepaid."

As more and more expedition members arrive, Austin's parking lot
fills up. Buildings are, left to right, Austin's home and office, the
Collins' old homestead, and the summer office converted into a mess
hall for the expedition. The cave entrance is out of sight 100 yards
behind the summer office. Photo by John Spence.

Actually, a number of American manufacturers answered our requests
for help, usually made further in advance. They contributed generously of
their products: apples, flashlight batteries, carbide, rope, and many other
items were made available to us,

Ida Sawtelle arrived from Brooklyn on Friday, two days before the ex-
pedition was to go underground. I spotted her in the hotel lobby in Cave
City.

48 The Caves Beyond

"Ida, you re on K,P."

"But I haven't got to the cave yet," she protested.

"YouTI be there in another fifteen miles," I said. "Your job is to put the
mess hall in operation and cook through Sunday. The plumbing is being in-
stalled now."

"There were some things I wanted to do first/' said Ida, "but if you need
me now, I'm ready to go to work."

"You have plenty of time. You don't have to serve until supper tonight,
but plan to feed thirty people then. I'll give you three helpers. Alden Snefl,
the supply officer, will be your boss."

Three helpers were soon selected for Ida. When Audrey Blakesley, a rock
climber from Trenton, New Jersey, breathed too hearty a sigh of relief be-
cause she had missed K.P., I said, "Get yourself a shorthand pad, Audrey,
you will be my stenographer for the next two days."

Friday, tents went up as Base Camp was established at the cave entrance.
Aside from the single frame building that we were using for a mess hall,
everything else had to be housed under canvas. Dr. Wanger's infirmary was
in a large tent. Another tent went up for my office, The largest tent was
erected to house communications and Base Camp headquarters. Still an-
other tent was used for supply. Others went up for sleeping quarters. The
tents were wired for light and electric heaters. By Thursday night, Base
Camp was a reality under the stars of a February sky.

The expedition's tent dty
goes up in a windy field
close to the cave's entrance.
Photo by Robert Habni.

PartH

PENETRATING THE BARRIER

by Roger W. Brucker

6

THE DOCTOR TAKES A TOUR

BEING A MEMBER OF AN EXPEDITION was a totally new experience for me.
Back in Ohio a group of us had journeyed to nearby caves in Indiana,
and we had explored the crawlways of our own state. When the Air Force
had stationed my unit in New York City, I had the good fortune of explor-
ing caves in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Connecticut, and upstate New York
with some of the people who were now milling around Base Camp. Phil
Smith and Roger McClure walked by carrying boxes, I remembered the
first trip we had taken together to the lower levels of Crystal four months
ago, and how that visit had formed our determination to return.

As I strolled among the tents filled with workers, each doing his assigned
task, I met Dr. Wanger with a hammer in his hand. He told me that he
wanted to drive some more stakes in the ground so his infirmary wouldn't
blow away. When I asked him where Joe Lawrence was he pointed toward
one of the white buildings.

I walked into the winter office to find Dyer, Austin, and Lawrence discuss-
ing tomorrow's plans. "Brucker," said Joe, "how would you like to take the
Doctor to the lower levels tomorrow?"

"I don't know the way, I've only been in once before/' I said.

"Jim Dyer will lead. We want you along in case anything unfortunate
should happen."

In case anything happens, I thought to myself, what good would I be?
I didn't know the way in, let alone out. Besides, what could happen? The
more I thought about it the more I thought that perhaps something could
happen. I didn't know Dr. Wanger then, and I had no idea how much

a

52 The Caves Beyond

punishment he could stand. Suppose he fell into a pit Suppose he became
fatigued and couldn't go any farther. Suppose. . . .

"I'll go," I said. Joe explained that there were three purposes for the trip.
He wanted us to locate a campsite near a good supply of drinking water;
he wanted to give the Doctor a taste of what expedition members would
be going through; and he wanted the Doctor to determine for himself the
feasibility of removing an injured man from the depths of the cave. We
added a fourth objective when we decided to carry in two sleeping bags.
This would give all of us a personal insight into how supply teams would
stand up under the rigors of travel in Crystal Cave.

Would Crystal be as confusing to me now as it had been the last time?
I didn't have to wait long to find the answer.

Friday, February 12th, dawned sunny and bright. Outside my tent people
were hurrying back and forth, carrying supplies. At the mess hall there was
a breakfast of bacon and eggs served among swarms of people who stood
at two long tables. Nancy Rogers and Ida Sawtelle were chief cooks, dishing
out fruit juice and toast. Excitement seemed electric. Some of the members
who had spent the night sleeping in Grand Canyon in the cave, instead of in
tents, described their experience; sleeping was good, they reported, but it
was disconcerting to wake up and find yourself in total darkness. One mem-
ber mislaid his flashlight and had to wake up a friend to help find it.

I went outside to find Joe talking to Burton Faust and learned that we
would go in as soon as everyone was ready. Not wanting to hold things up,
I went to the car and climbed into my coveralls, loaded my plastic box
with extra carbide, and filled the hip flask with water. The Eveready flash-
light worked, but a couple of candles went in my pocket for good measure.
With my knee crawlers fitted neatly on my rope waist band, I was ready
to go.

Jim Dyer was talking to Bill Austin when I approached. He said he'd be
ready in a jiffy. Dr. Wanger stood by his car. "What do I wear in this
cave?" he asked. I pointed out the various items of my equipment, which
he mentally listed, then he turned to dig a couple of other things out of
his car trunk.

I wandered over to the mess hall to see about getting a lunch to eat down
below. Ida said she'd make one.

Roger McClure and several others were rolling sleeping bags to go to
Camp One down in the Lost Passage. "Tighter," yelled McClure, "These
have to be as small as we can make them," McClure spoke from experience.
He demonstrated how he wanted them rolled; he unzipped a bag and
placed a rubber air mattress in it, an inflatable pillow, and a sleeping bag

The Doctor Takes a Tour

53

liner. The bags themselves were stuffed with kapok and lined with red cot-
ton flannel. He zipped the bag closed and folded in the sides slightly. I
pitched in at that point and kneeled on the top end of one bag while he
rolled from the bottom, tightening the roll with all his strength. The bag's
protective cover furled around the roll and the draw strings were tied se-
curely. "There," said McClure, "That ought to go through in one piece." It
would have been impossible to roll the sleeping bags into tighter bundles
by hand, and the result was a roll about nine inches in diameter, and 24
inches long. I picked up two of the rolled bags and headed for the Doctor.

In less than twelve hours a row of larger tents flanks the nerve-
center at Lawrence's tent headquarters. Photo by Henry Douglas.

Doc Wanger, was getting his sleeves tied with string because he didn't
intend to take half of the sand in the Crawlway along with him. His son,
Bill Wanger, finished the last knot.

"Do I need this?" Doc asked. He held up a bundle of nylon rope.

"No, don't take it," I said, remembering how a rope I had taken on my
first trip had snagged on the rough walls of the Crawlway. "Jim wi ^ be
leading us by a route where we won't need rope," I said. Doc tossed the
rope back into the truuk of his car.

Jim joined us, saying Ida had the lunch ready. I went to pick it up. Cheese

54 The Caves Beyond

sandwiches, dried fruit, peanuts; not very hearty fare for Crystal crawlers.

I stuffed it into my rucksack. We were ready.

The three of us said goodbye to Bill Stephenson and Joe Lawrence. Doc
slung a sleeping bag over his shoulder and fell in behind Jim, who led the
way down the hill to the entrance. I looked up at the sky as we descended,
knowing I wouldn't see it for at least twelve hours. It was bright blue
against the wires which furnished current for the lights in the commercial
portion of the cave. We closed the door behind us and we were in blackness.
Jim flicked a switch and the lights went on. About fifty feet down the pas-
sage we stopped to fill our pockets with apples. Four bushels of Shenandoah
Valley apples were piled there for incoming and outgoing expedition mem-
bers; we bit into them as we inarched down the canyon trail into the cave.

At Scotchman's Trap we sat down and rested while everyone filled and
lighted carbide lamps. Doc Wanger pulled up his pants legs.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He waved some strange looking elastic
bands in my face.

"Basketball knee-pads . . ." he said, slipping them on snugly around his
knees.

"They look a little thin," I said,

"They'll work all right," he said. ''Besides, they won't be as clumsy as those
big rubber ones. I don't usually wear knee-pads in caves anyway."

I had heard those words before. He pulled down his pants legs, then
raised his sleeves and proceeded to put on elbow-pads* We had an audi-
ence by this time. Expedition members had come to watch the send-off,
augmented by press photographers, who kept asking for "just one more**

"Let's go," said Jim quietly. He scrambled down the slide under the
boulder and disappeared through the small hole that was Scotchman's Trap,
Doc tossed his sleeping bag down the hole and piled in after it He jammed
it through the hole and took a last look at the people ringing the upper rim.
Then he was gone.

It was noon by my watch as I threw my sleeping bag down the hole and
followed. The apple tasted delicious; no point in throwing it away until
we arrived at the tough part of the crawl. Jim and Doc were ahead, so I
decided to wait until they were almost to the cross-canyon before I fol-
lowed. That way I wouldn't have to stop frequently in cramped quarters.
Doc threw the sleeping bag ahead of him, then crawled up to it and re-
peated the process; I could always tell if he was moving ahead by the
''thump, scrape, scrape, thump, scrape, scrape" of the bag hitting tbe floor
and the Doc crawling* Jim was out of sight now, so I began to crawl, hurl-
ing the bag as far as I could in the cramped quarters. It traveled about ten

The Doctor Takes a Tour 55

feet. In a few moments I had squeezed down into the narrow canyon and
was following on the heels of Jim and the Doctor. Gypsum lining the walls
of the canyon glistened under the carbide lamps like a million tiny dia-
monds. We held the bags over our heads now and moved along sideways.
It looked familiar. Doc was sweating profusely as he strained and pushed
his way through. I remembered how I had perspired on my first trip in and
was amazed to discover how cool I felt now. The only way I could account
for it was that, having been through before, I knew how to travel expending
the least energy.

The passage was lower now as we came into the small room called Last
Chance and stood up. Doc panted and rubbed his face with a handkerchief.
Jim looked cool and ready to go, the way I felt. "Tell me," said Doc, "is all
of the Crawlway this rough going?"

Jim looked at me. Mentally we went down the list of obstacles yet to be
encountered, the S Curve, the Keyhole, Straddle Canyon. "A good bit of it
is rougher than this," said Jim in the understatement of the trip. We moved
on, this time on our hands and knees. I knew Doc was wondering what he
might run into up ahead; so was I. Would the cave prove to be as confusing
as the last time I went through it? So far, it was familiar.

A muffled voice came from the passage ahead. It was Jim, yelling some-
thing about the S Curve. We were literally wiggling along on our stomachs,
inching the sleeping bags ahead. Now and then Doc tried to adjust his
basketball knee-pads, which kept slipping down his leg and offering no
protection.

"Roger, how do I get through this?" he asked. I couldn't see around him
since his whole body plugged the passage.

"Push the sleeping bag hard, then hold on!" I yelled. I knew for certain he
was at the S Curve now, so I rolled over on my back and rested with my
nose a scant three inches from the ceiling, listening to the struggle ahead
a man trying to push himself where men weren't made to go. He grunted,
swore, then rested a moment and tried again. The ceiling was terribly close,
I thought, what would happen if it caved in? Either here or back farther
toward the Trap? They would come looking for us after fifteen hours or so,
and what would they do when they crawled upon that awful pile of stone?
It couldn't be moved, except out of the Trap piece by piece. They really
couldn't drill down to rescue us if we were trapped, for beyond the Trap
no one knew how the passages lay. There was a map on the old commercial
tourist folder which showed the Crawlway, but that was inaccurate. It
couldn't be of any practical use to a rescue party. I thought about ft in si-
lence. Silence!

COLLINS' CRYSTAL CAVE

37 12' 50" North. 86 3' 15" West

A PERSPECTIVE DRAWING OF KNOWN MAJOR PASSAGES

COMPILED FROM SURVEY NOTES OF
THE NATIONAL SPELEOLOGICAL SOCIETY

October 10, 1954
Survey Officer - E. Thierry Cartographer - John Fnher

Horizontal icale 1 inch equali approximately 400 feet
Vertical title 1 inch eqiuU pproximately 200 feet

58 The Caves Beyond

That meant Doc had squeezed through the S Curve and was on his way
to the Keyhole. I thrust my arms out to turn over, forgetting the walls and
banging my elbows. The sleeping bag slid around the first turn, then I
inched after it. Halfway around I pushed the bag around the next turn,
then again followed it. It was rough going, no doubt about it, but not nearly
the torture it had been the first time, or was proving to be on Doc's first
trip. Up ahead I could see him trying to squeeze through the Keyhole after
Jim, whose light shone through from the other side. Jim was in the parallel
passage, the only one that led to the lower levels and unexplored cave.

Doc was trying to jam his head and left shoulder through the Keyhole,
but he became wedged, "What do I do now!" he yelled at Jim.

'Try the other shoulder," came the muffled answer. It worked, and Doc
pulled his feet through the hole behind him. I stuffed the sleeping bag in
and followed.

On the other side, Jim and the Doc were lying down in the passage rest-
ing. Sweat streamed from every pore on Doc's face, while the back of his
coveralls was drenched; he breathed deeply. "Damn," said Doc. U I don't
see how you'd get an injured man through there! You'd almost have to
anesthetize him and drag him through." The Doc shook his head slowly
from side to side at the tiny hole we had come through. We lighted ciga-
rettes and watched the smoke spiral upward then drift lazily down the
passage toward the lower levels ahead.

"You know, Doc," said Jim, "when Floyd Collins came through here, it
wasn't nearly so easy. You wouldn't know it, but this Crawlway has been
dug out since then. And Floyd used to explore with a kerosene lantern; how
he got it through I'll never know."

Doc looked at the wall in disbelief, but sure enough, dirt was piled on
every ledge, and a small wooden paddle-like shovel lay on top of one heap,
"That's one of the shovels they used, if you can call it that," explained Jim.

We stomped out our cigarettes and buried them in the cool sand floor.
In about five minutes we were in a little room I remembered, where three
passages led out, not counting the one we had just come through. "Which
way, Doc?" asked Jim. Doc screwed up his face and looked at the possibili-
ties. One passage, low and to the left, looked like the best bet. He crawled
over to it, noting that there had been some traffic through it, but without
saying anything he returned and poked his head up through a high pas-
sage leading straight ahead. Then he examined a small crawlway leading
to the right.

Td say we go to the left," he said. Then he looked at Jim, who was grin-
ning like a Cheshire Cat. True to his prototype, Jim disappeared up through

The Doctor Takes a Tour 59

the hole in the ceiling. The Doc had chosen the wrong passage, as so many
would do later on in this three-shell game underground. Doc forced his
sleeping bag up through the hole, then followed. When I reached the top
Jim was about a hundred feet down the passage-a strange place, with a
cross-section like a giant flat-topped toadstool. At the top, the passage was
about twenty feet wide and no more than two feet high. Snaking down the
center of it was a canyon, perhaps twelve feet deep and twenty inches wide,
corresponding to the stem of the toadstool. Red sand covered the floor of
the low room, and gypsum facets glinted from the ceiling.

Doc looked at all this, then asked with wonder in his voice.

"How did Jim get down there so fast? Doesn't look like there's room
enough to crawl along the edge."

"This is where you do the canyon straddle/' I said.

"Sounds like a new dance."

"It'll be very popular this week," I said.

"Hey, Doc!" yelled Jim from down the passage. "Watch this!" Jim placed
one hand on either side of the canyon wall and draped his feet down into
the canyon. Then he bounded toward us like an express train, doing a kind
of leap-frog jump by swinging his feet, bracing them on the canyon sides,
moving his arms farther along, and rapidly repeating the move. In virtually
nothing flat he was with us.

"Looks like fun," said Doc,

"It is if you watch your footing. One slip and you land on the bottom/'
said Jim.

Moving along with the sleeping bags proved to be no fun at all, however.
We couldn't do a regular canyon straddle and hang onto the roll at the same
time, so instead we worked out an alternative by placing our seats on one
side of the canyon and our feet on the other. In this manner we could move
along sideways, rolling the bags with us on the sand. For about three hun-
dred feet we did this, then left the canyon momentarily and crawled across
a low-ceilinged flat place.

We slipped down into the canyon, again carrying our loads over our
heads. The top was gone from the toadstool now, and we were moving side-
ways in the stem. It was a tight squeeze, much like the canyon squeeze in
the first part of the Crawlway.

In about ten minutes we reached a muddy breakdown room; the end of
the Crawlway, we learned, Large boulders covered the floor, slick with
mud. Somewhere above, the sandstone cap had broken, allowing water to
trickle in, and with it> mud from the surface. Far below us we could hear
water falling among rocks and gurgling along a passage. Even as we sat,

60 The Caves Beyond

drops of water hung momentarily on the ceiling, then plummeted down to
spatter on a rock or upon us.

It was now about two-thirty; our trip through the Crawlway had taken us
two and a half hours altogether. I still felt fresh; how different from the
exhaustion I had felt on the first trip in! Also, I had been able to recognize
every passage we had come through. I knew I could find my way out from
this point.

"How about some of that fruit?" said Doc.

"You'll be sorry if you eat it all now," said Jim. "It's a long way to the
Lost Passage."

Disregarding the warning, I handed the bag to Doc and he ripped off the
cellophane. Soon we had eaten half the bag's contents of apricots and
prunes.

There appeared to be no way out of this breakdown room in which we
found ourselves, except back through the passage by which we had come.
Yet we could hear water below. Doc peered around the walls of the room,
his feeble carbide light barely reaching its extremities. His face showed
the tense curiosity many a cave explorer feels when he encounters a per-
plexing situation like this one. Would his experience in West Virginia and
Pennsylvania caves give him some clue to the way down? He didn't have
time to ponder this, for his light went out.

"Better carbide-up," said Jim. We spent the next few minutes recharging
our lamps. It was chilly sitting there, for dampness seeps through woolen
underwear unless you keep moving. We decided to keep moving.

Jim rose and walked toward one wall; it was just like every other wall
in the room, with a pile of jagged rocks near it. When we caught up with
him he was looking down a hole barely big enough for a man to squeeze
through. Our low angle of vision and the rock pile had hidden it

"Watch your step going down here," said Jim. "It's about five feet down
to the bottom and there are loose rocks here. When you get down, youll be
on a muddy little ledge at the top of a canyon. Don't fall into the canyon.
It's thirty feet to the bottom. Same as falling off the roof of a three story
house."

Doc gingerly eased himself down the hole. The sound of water was
louder now, directly below us. We worked along the top of the canyon,
crawling in a half inch of mud toward a place ahead where Jim was start-
ing down, chimneying between the rough, water-cut walls of the canyon.
Part way down he stopped,

"Pass those bags down," he said. He took them and tossed them into the
darkness ahead, where they landed a fraction of a second later with a hollow

The Doctor Takes a Tour 61

thump. Doc climbed down easily, for, after all, he was no novice at cave
exploring. But for a while, exploring a big cave like Crystal is like starting
all over again. The same bewilderment is there, and the same kind of fa-
miliarization process is necessary, only both are more intense than in a
smaller strange cave.

We reached Jim and the sleeping bags in the Dining Room, a dome-
shaped place about ten feet high and ten feet in diameter with a ceiling
open to another passage that followed along on top. One or two rusty tin
cans indicated why it was so named. On the walls were arrows, a confusing
array. Some were black, having been put there with carbide lamp smoke.
Some were scratched in with a sharp stone. They pointed every direction;
back the way we had come, straight up, and ahead. Normally, arrows on
the wall of a cave passage indicate the way back to the entrance, a standard
symbol used by cave explorers for marking their route into a strange cave
to prevent becoming lost.

"Jim," I said, "what's the story of all these arrows? I saw them the last
time I came in. They don't make sense."

"Well, they do and they don't," he said. "On my first trip in here one
night with an old guide, I marked 1 all the arrows pointing in so I could find
my way to the Lost Passage again if we found it. That was before I knew
about making all the arrows pointing out. Then a few other people have
put arrows here from time to time, so they'd know this place when they
came across it again. Here and there you'll see a dot with a ring around it
on the wall. That means that a passage hasn't been explored. Then there
are some arrows with a dot above or below them. Those mean to go up or
down. Some other arrows have all sorts of lines on them. That's usually the
result of someone putting an arrow on pointing the wrong direction, and
somebody changing it later."

We walked out of the Dining Room into a narrow crevice lined on each
side with grape-like formations, nodules of calcite which had been de-
posited on the wall when the passage was under water. Some of the pro-
jections were sharp enough to tear our sleeping bag covers in several places.
The passage was so narrow we couldn't have seen our feet if we had tried.
Jim stopped.

"Listen," he said. We could hear him kicking a rock with his foot, then it
rolled as though it were going into a hole. Silence. Two seconds later , . ,
kerplash! It had fallen into water at least fifty feet below. When I stepped
over the hole, it felt about six inches in diameter, hardly big enough to put
a foot through. We climbed down an abrupt drop off.

"Look out*" said Jim, "Keep to the left, whatever you do." To the right a

62 The Caves Beyond

gaping hole led downward into blackness with only the sound of gurgling
water floating upward. This was Ebb and Flow Falls.

Doc remarked about the change in the character of the cave at this point.
In the commercial portion and through the Crawlway, brown and red sand
covered the floor. The walls had been a mellow golden color, covered with
gypsum. Now, here at Ebb and Flow Falls, the walls were limestone gray,
rafter shaly looking and covered with a tan or gray dust. Clearly we were
in another rock formation, much lower down than we had yet been. Ebb
and Flow Falls consisted of a mere trickle of water coming from the top
of a dome at the side of our trail and falling into a pool. When the pool
overflowed, the excess ran down into the canyon to join the water we had
heard a few moments ago.

Ebb and Flow Falls provides the only drinking water between
Scotchman's Trap and Floyd's Lost Passage. Photo by James Dyer,

"Anyone want a drink?" asked Jim. I climbed down into the basin and
dropped to my hands and knees. The water was cool against my face, and
delicious. I drank for a moment, but with trickles of cold water from the
top of the dome continuously falling on my neck and back, decided that
I really wasn't too thirsty. Doc looked at the water dubiously.

The Doctor Takes a Tour 63

"I don't think we can do that during the expedition," he said, "We'll
have too many people running around in the cave and they may contami-
nate the water. Well have to give everybody a supply of halazone tablets
to purify all drinking water/'

"Did you bring any tablets with you this trip?" asked Jim. It turned out
he hadn't. And if he had, he probably wouldn't have used them. For one
thing, you had to wait a half hour after adding the tablet to the water be-
fore the halazone would have any effect. Second, we were all too hot and
too thirsty to care. The risks in drinking cave water in Crystal Cave at this
time were small, after all, for there were no known sources of surface pollu-
tion such as farms or houses. Also, we were at least two hundred feet under-
ground, we thought. Doc removed his hard hat, then buried his face in the
pool and swallow