CAVING IN TENNESSEE!

Betty Smith is our GOP District Committeewoman for Stephens County. She and her sister write home school science, history and english textbooks. She was raised in Mexico on the mission field. She sent this account of her taking a cave tour in Tennessee. I think you will enjoy reading about Betty's experience. Her email is abcsmith@mac.com if you want to comment directly to her.
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Ron and I were privileged to get to go to a trade show for our business in northeastern Tennessee. We were looking forward to seeing the beautiful fall foliage, making business contacts, and visiting friends in the area. It sounded fun, but pretty tame. So, when we were given the option for our Saturday activities, we rejected the leisurely bike hike, the friendly game of golf, the window-shopping in Gatlinburg, and opted for the 'Wild' cave tour at Appalachian Caverns. It did say that it was a high level of exertion, but I figured we had at least one spelunking experience left in these middle-aged bodies.

We dressed in old jeans and warm t-shirts and nine of us (Ron and I were the oldest in the group) drove to the cave in a slightly apprehensive, but holiday mood. We walked into the entrance building and started to put on our equipment. "Put your knee pads inside your jeans, they'll stay in place better that way," said the owner's wife. "And you better leave everything valuable here—like your cell phone, your camera, your wedding rings, and your wallets. We have a used jewelry section in this store," her husband joked. Then he took us into the orientation room, where he had us pick out a hard hat and gloves. Little did I realize how important those items would be.

Going down the concrete ramp into the cave was familiar to me. I've walked through lots of caves around the country and really enjoy seeing the world underneath the surface. But that was where the familiar ended. The owner/guide, Roger, took us off the beaten path down into a smaller cavern with several chambers. "This is the practice area," he said. We obligingly dropped to our knees and crawled through the first of many tunnels. "Not too bad," I thought to myself, "I can handle this." I continued to think this way as we explored several other tunnels, including one called the 'birth canal.' I wasn't even very dirty, and although I could feel that I was being challenged physically, it was relatively easy and kind of fun. I did hold back at one point and just watched the others climb up a 25 ft. cliff to a little cave room at the top.

Then we went even deeper in the cave, and Roger pointed to a small opening with about 4 inches of water standing in it. I felt like Cadet Kelly at Boot Camp, dropping flat on the ground into the water and shimmying through the opening. It was tall enough to crawl through in parts, but quite muddy. This caving thing was getting harder and I was getting wet and muddy, but I was still making it pretty well.

We came around a curve and watched Roger and the ones ahead of us disappear up and over a narrow opening. Then it was my turn to make myself into a pretzel to get through that space. I took off my hard hat, because my head wouldn't fit through the top part of the opening without doing that. Then I climbed up to the first 'step' and quickly found out that it wasn't going to work with my left foot going first. So, I turned sideways with my body hugging the left side of the wall and tried pushing myself up with my right foot first. In a moment, I was stuck. I couldn't go forward and I couldn't go backward. I realized that I needed to go forward (because there were others behind me and I didn't want to have to slide back the way we’d come), but I was wedged in the crevice and couldn't move. I started to get panicky and even started thinking about Winnie the Pooh and how long I would have to stay there until I lost enough weight to be able to get out of there. My adrenaline started pumping and I began to feel claustrophobic.

The young man in front of me saw my situation. Steve grabbed my hand and said, "Here, let me help you. I know you can do it." Ron was behind me encouraging me as well. I still felt stuck and scared, so I asked them to pray for me. Then, I wiggled loose, was able to back up a few inches, regain a different footing and with Ron pushing and Steve pulling, I made it to the top of the rock. They helped me down the 10 foot drop on the other side and we were off again, crawling through another muddy tunnel.

When we all got to a place where we could sort of stand up, Roger had everyone turn off his or her headlamps. He talked with us about how dark the world is without light. Then he had one person turn on their headlamp. We could see everyone quite well. But when we all turned our lights on, we could see even better. He reminded us that Jesus is the Light of the world, and that when we all let our light shine, the darkness is exposed. It was a good and uplifting talk. Then Roger said, "I have good news and bad news. The good news is that you all made it through that passage. The bad news is that we have to go back the same way."

I felt the strength go out of my body and I slumped to the ground. "I can't go through there again," I exclaimed. "There isn't any better way out of here," was Roger's reply. "Then you'll have to pray for me again," I said, trying to slow my breathing down and calm my spirit. With their prayers upholding me, I crept back to that narrow opening again. My ‘labor coaches,’ Steve and Ron were right there with me. (By the way, Steve was an experienced labor coach as he had helped his wife with an unexpected home delivery of their 2-yr-old twins!) And thankfully, going down was much easier than climbing up, as gravity helped the process.

After that, hugging 45-degree slabs of rocks and wading through 3-foot-deep 55-degree water seemed like a breeze. We all felt like triumphant survivors as we entered the sunlight again and climbed up the hill to the shower house.

Although my body was covered with bruises and every muscle screamed for several days, there were several important lessons that I learned from this experience. First of all, I was thrilled that I actually was able to do the 4-hour caving trip. Secondly, I learned, that when we think we've got it made and can handle it, God sometimes gives us a challenge to humble us and force us to cry out to Him for help. Thirdly, there are some things that we have to do for ourselves—no one else can do it for us. BUT, others can encourage us, pray for us and give us a helping hand.

There was a special camaraderie amongst us cavers after that event. We got back to the hotel with only an hour to rest before dinner. So we rested a little, and I put on my fancy black dress. I was proud to show off my bruises, because they were badges of courage and reminders that God had brought me up out of a miry pit and set my feet upon a rock.

When you get in a tight place, take a deep breath and let it out. Call out to God for help. And don't be afraid to ask a friend, a spouse, or even a stranger to give you a hand when you need it.