The Paper that Determined My Academic Career

When I first went to college, I was not unlike many of my fellow freshman in that I had not yet chosen a major field of study. That changed my first semester after my English 101 professor assigned us to write a paper about a major event that changed our life. I thought I might write about the night my dad died, but it was a bit morose and the muse was not cooperating. So I decided to take on an Erma Bombeck-style form of writing and write about an adventure we had a few months prior spelunking in a cave.

Now anyone who knows me knows that "roughing it" for me is when room service is late. OK, I jest a little because I do like to camp on occasion, but I don't like hiking..at all...ever! So spelunking in a cave was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out of my comfort zone. WAY out!

Well, recently, my friends Sheila and John, who were with me on this particular trip along with some other friends, posted a picture of themselves in the same cave 18 years later and she encouraged me to post my essay on the excursion taken lo, those now 22 years ago. I found it in my file, carefully turned the yellowed pages and, ahem, did a little editing (It's my paper, I can do what I want. Writer's prerogative, you know), re-typed it into the computer, and am posting it below:


October 2, 1987

I Paid $17.50 for this Fun

It all started as a camping trip. We were six friends from church, “getting away from it all,” going to relax and have some fellowship. This was the way it started, that is, until someone wanted to see Boyden’s Cave.

Boyden’s Cave is a nice tourist attraction outside of King’s Canyon National Park, near Yosemite. The cave itself is nestled in between two mountains of harsh rock partially covered by lush, green wilderness. After our tour, the tour guide, named Dave, asked us if we would like to come back after hours for an expedition in a part of the cave not open to the public. He flattered us by saying we looked “adventurous” and “the sporting type,” but somehow I knew this guy was buttering us up. Anyone who knows me knows I’m anything but the sporting type.

“It’s not hard. It just tests your endurance, “ he said.

“Sounds like fun, “ Sheila said.

“I’ve never been caving before,” Nancy said cheerfully.

“I’m up for it,” bellowed Todd (only the day before, Todd jumped into a stream 30 degrees in temperature, with his glasses on, and claimed, “Feels great! Nice and warm.”)

“I love rappelling, “ said John.

“You’re awfully quiet, Teresa, “ said Bob (after a year of dating me, he now knows when I’m less than excited about something).

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said. I was just trying to sound reasonable and logical, but I think they noticed that I was just being a coward. “Besides,” I said, “aren’t you guys still sore from yesterday’s eight-mile hike?”

They were not convinced.

I didn’t want to be the wet, stinky dishrag on the excitement and decided to go along. This was the best and worst decision of my life.

The other guide told us to wear two layers of clothing as the cave would get cold and damp. When he told us this I began to think, “Didn’t Dave tell us in the earlier tour that rats and snakes like to live in the remote parts of the cave? Maybe it was just my imagination.

We started to hike the 400 foot incline toward that lush, green wilderness. This lush, green wilderness soon began to feel like the jungles of Peru. We sifted through poison oak and slapped endlessly at mosquitoes. We finally reached an opening to the cave. This is where I proved to be a tearful, but courageous “spelunker.” As our guide tied the harness around my waist and through my legs (making my behind look like over-ripe grapes), I suddenly realized that I was in this for the duration. He gave me instructions on rappelling into the cavern. I promptly forgot these instructions as I started to descend.

I fell five feet.

I scrambled to grab the top of the rope with both hands and tried to recall the previous instructions and tried to picture in my mind the position form the guys on the TV show S.W.A.T., had taken as the opening music to the show played in my head. After I regained my composure, I began to talk myself down the slick, wet surface of the wall in front of me. Muttering to myself, I wondered how I let myself get talked into this. I decided to start praying and reciting verses as I went down into the cave. I remembered the verse, “In our weakness, He is strong.” This verse certainly applied to this situation! Upon my arrival at the bottom of the rope, I adjusted my helmet’s flashlight and saw Nancy and Sheila perched on a large rock smiling as if they had just enjoyed a nice cup of tea!

As we continued to explore the cave, we learned several ways to climb rocks and walls that would make the heart stop. One particular spot involved wedging between two walls, which felt like sandpaper and dust. I had to place my feet over a hole, reach down below my feet and grab a rope on the underside of the hole.

“Now what do I do?” I asked tearfully.

“Just jump, “ our guide said cheerfully.

“What do you mean, ‘just jump”? I exclaimed.

“We can see you!” our guide yelled.

“But, I can’t see you!” I yelled back.

“You can do it!” yelled John.

“Come on hon, we’re here for you,” Bob encouraged.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, “ Nancy tried to assure me.

“You’re holding up the line!” I heard Todd yell from above.

I realized now that I had no choice. I closed my eyes and jumped. Much to my surprise, someone grabbed my legs and kept me from slamming into a boulder roughly the size of Alaska.

“See, wasn’t that easy?” our guide said.

“Piece of cake, “ I muttered, spitting dust from my mouth.

“I told you you could do it,” said John.

“Come on Sheila, it’s not as bad as it looks, “ I said.

After five hours of spelunking, we were near the exit of the cave. Unfortunately, the only way to get there was through a tunnel two feet high with a tight “S” curve. I followed our guides confidently into this passage, feeling relief and victory at the same time. This feeling lasted until I heard the guide’s next words:

“Is this the right exit?” our guide asked Dave.

“Uh, I’m not sure. This might be the one that was blocked off,” said Dave.

I looked behind and saw my fellow spelunkers. Bob was on his hands and knees. Sheila was bent at the waist and looked at me under a red mob of wet hair. Nancy was squatting against the wall. John was nowhere in sight. Todd, however, was the most pathetic. His 6’8” frame was caught in the “S” curve and he was lying on his side. He was facing the wall like a disruptive four year old in class.

The guides decided to proceed on ahead, despite the possibility of the exit being blocked off. They told me to go on through the hole. The hole, however, was above my head and pulling out of it was no easy task as I am not an Olympic gymnast. As I grabbed the ground above me, Bob boosted me up. I threw my elbows onto the ground and pulled myself up with absolutely no grace to my form. I breathed in the fresh, night air.

As we trudged down the hill in the darkness, I began to reflect on the night’s event. God’s strength was truly shown in my weakness. I also realized that I could endure a great deal that I am not aware of. With God’s strength, I can endure almost anything. I may not like the trial, but I can endure it.

However, I have not been spelunking again.

****UPDATE****

Sheila mentioned on Facebook the other day that when she and John went back there a few years ago, they asked about going spelunking in that part of the cave again. The guide said, "Oh no. That's been closed to the public for a long time. People die in there." Isn't THAT great to hear?