texascavers Digest 6 Nov 2012 19:35:44 -0000 Issue 1660

Topics (messages 20987 through 20995):

Re: Mountain lion killed on highway by town of Medina
        20987 by: Louise Power
        20988 by: Chris Vreeland
        20991 by: Brian Vauter

Kiwi Sink Dig next weekend
        20989 by: Gill Edigar

Re: texascavers Digest 31 Oct 2012 16:47:37 -0000 Issue 1657
        20990 by: Mimi Jasek

UT Grotto Meeting - Wed Nov 7th
        20992 by: Gary Franklin
        20993 by: Gary Franklin

Be careful out there
        20994 by: BMorgan994.aol.com
        20995 by: BMorgan994.aol.com

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--- Begin Message ---
My sister Jodie sent me the following email (she lives in a small town SE of 
SA):
This was in our news on the day it was found.  When Bob and I owned the ranch 
outside of Bandera, we had a Mt. lion that lived in an open rock overhang den. 
To get to it we had to climb all the way to the top of the land and then back 
down the other side.   The Mt. Lion (he/she?)would watch us work and never 
seemed interested in us or Clyde [their dog]. We never even had a gun to 
protect ourselves.  Just looked for it,  saw it and went on about our business. 
 I also had one here when I first moved here.  We could hear it scream some 
evenings.  One day I found its tracks along the side of my house.  They were 
huge.  He/she was following a deer because the tracks of the deer were in front 
of it.  I assume at some point it caught the deer.  Never actually saw the Mt. 
L  but they are all over TX.
Their everywhere!
Louise
Date: Sun, 4 Nov 2012 12:12:53 -0600
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
CC: [email protected]; [email protected]
Subject: Re: [Texascavers] Mountain lion killed on highway by town of Medina

We would see them at night between Uvalde and Eagle Pass and Crystal City in 
the 1950s back when I was a kid.

Ted

On Sun, Nov 4, 2012 at 11:34 AM, Julia Germany <[email protected]> wrote:

HI Geary!



Thanks for posting this.  However, I don't think mountain lions get email, so 
reminding them to be careful out there might not reach them.



What a beautiful cat, and so cool that he was strong and healthy, and his 
carcass will be put to good use.  I was not aware that they are in the Medina 
area.  And kudos to the person who was hit him for being kind enough to move 
him off the road - if only they would have called authorities.  At least he was 
found in time to be a learning tool for those urbanites......




I went to the University of Houston and our mascot is the Cougar.  Back in the 
80's, he was kept in a concrete, air conditioned, glassed-in cage so the 
students could appreciate having a live mascot.  Just made me cry.  And then 
they had to dope him a little so they could take him to the games.  These 
creatures deserve so much better.




julia



 






 






 






-----Original Message-----


From: Geary Schindel <[email protected]>


To: texascavers <[email protected]>


Sent: Fri, Nov 2, 2012 4:52 pm


Subject: [Texascavers] Mountain lion killed on highway by town of Medina















Be careful out there.

G

Here is a link to the Bandera Bulletin article; this lion was killed by a car a 
few weeks ago.   This location would be about five to ten miles east of the 
town 
of Medina in northern Bandera County.


http://www.banderabulletin.com/news/article_145e60bc-1ec8-11e2-a92d-0019bb2963f4.html?photo=0




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--- End Message ---
--- Begin Message --- The only time I've seen a mountain lion in the wild was while driving north on 83, 20 or so miles north of Uvalde. It crossed the road in broad daylight, then turned to look back at me just inside the fence on the other side of the road. I slowed down so we got a pretty good look at each other.

I think it was in the mid 90's - not sure where I Was going or why I was out there -- pretty common for me at that time.


On Nov 4, 2012, at 12:16 PM, Allan B. Cobb wrote:

I used to own land north of La Grange and it was common to see mountain lion tracks along the creek and around the pond. I never saw one there but my neighbors did. I did hear one at night a couple of times out there.

Allan

From: Ted Samsel
Sent: Sunday, November 04, 2012 12:12 PM
To: Julia Germany
Cc: [email protected] ; [email protected]
Subject: Re: [Texascavers] Mountain lion killed on highway by town of Medina

We would see them at night between Uvalde and Eagle Pass and Crystal City in the 1950s back when I was a kid.

Ted

On Sun, Nov 4, 2012 at 11:34 AM, Julia Germany <[email protected]> wrote:
HI Geary!

Thanks for posting this. However, I don't think mountain lions get email, so reminding them to be careful out there might not reach them.

What a beautiful cat, and so cool that he was strong and healthy, and his carcass will be put to good use. I was not aware that they are in the Medina area. And kudos to the person who was hit him for being kind enough to move him off the road - if only they would have called authorities. At least he was found in time to be a learning tool for those urbanites......

I went to the University of Houston and our mascot is the Cougar. Back in the 80's, he was kept in a concrete, air conditioned, glassed-in cage so the students could appreciate having a live mascot. Just made me cry. And then they had to dope him a little so they could take him to the games. These creatures deserve so much better.

julia



-----Original Message-----
From: Geary Schindel <[email protected]>
To: texascavers <[email protected]>
Sent: Fri, Nov 2, 2012 4:52 pm
Subject: [Texascavers] Mountain lion killed on highway by town of Medina

Be careful out there.

G

Here is a link to the Bandera Bulletin article; this lion was killed by a car a few weeks ago. This location would be about five to ten miles east of the town
of Medina in northern Bandera County.


http://www.banderabulletin.com/news/article_145e60bc-1ec8-11e2-a92d-0019bb2963f4.html?photo=0




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--- End Message ---
--- Begin Message ---
Allegedly there is one in and around the Lewis Ranch/Rockwall Ranch area near 
NBC. Through secondhand sources, a dog was killed in one of those subdivisions 
and the vet attributed the death to a "big cat." And a friend of the NBC owners 
claims to have seen one chasing down a deer inside the entrance to Rockwall 
Ranch. 

Brian V

Sent from my iPad

On Nov 4, 2012, at 9:10 PM, Chris Vreeland <[email protected]> wrote:

> The only time I've seen a mountain lion in the wild was while driving north 
> on 83, 20 or so miles north of Uvalde. It crossed the road in broad daylight, 
> then turned to look back at me just inside the fence on the other side of the 
> road. I slowed down so we got a pretty good look at each other.
> 
> I think it was in the mid 90's - not sure where I Was going or why I was out 
> there -- pretty common for me at that time. 
> 
> 
> On Nov 4, 2012, at 12:16 PM, Allan B. Cobb wrote:
> 
>> I used to own land north of La Grange and it was common to see mountain lion 
>> tracks along the creek and around the pond. I never saw one there but my 
>> neighbors did. I did hear one at night a couple of times out there.
>>  
>> Allan
>>  
>> From: Ted Samsel
>> Sent: Sunday, November 04, 2012 12:12 PM
>> To: Julia Germany
>> Cc: [email protected] ; [email protected]
>> Subject: Re: [Texascavers] Mountain lion killed on highway by town of Medina
>>  
>> We would see them at night between Uvalde and Eagle Pass and Crystal City in 
>> the 1950s back when I was a kid.
>> 
>> Ted
>> 
>> On Sun, Nov 4, 2012 at 11:34 AM, Julia Germany <[email protected]> wrote:
>>> HI Geary!
>>> 
>>> Thanks for posting this.  However, I don't think mountain lions get email, 
>>> so reminding them to be careful out there might not reach them.
>>> 
>>> What a beautiful cat, and so cool that he was strong and healthy, and his 
>>> carcass will be put to good use.  I was not aware that they are in the 
>>> Medina area.  And kudos to the person who was hit him for being kind enough 
>>> to move   him off the road - if only they would have called authorities.  
>>> At least he was found in time to be a learning tool for those 
>>> urbanites......
>>> 
>>> I went to the University of Houston and our mascot is the Cougar.  Back in 
>>> the 80's, he was kept in a concrete, air conditioned, glassed-in cage so 
>>> the students could appreciate having a live mascot.  Just made me cry.  And 
>>> then they had to dope him a little so they could take him to the games.  
>>> These creatures deserve so much better.
>>> 
>>> julia
>>>  
>>>  
>>>  
>>> -----Original Message-----
>>> From: Geary Schindel <[email protected]>
>>> To: texascavers <[email protected]>
>>> Sent: Fri, Nov 2, 2012 4:52 pm
>>> Subject: [Texascavers] Mountain lion killed on highway by town of Medina
>>> 
>>> Be careful out there.
>>> 
>>> G
>>> 
>>> Here is a link to the Bandera Bulletin article; this lion was killed by a 
>>> car a 
>>> few weeks ago.   This location would be about five to ten miles east of the 
>>> town 
>>> of Medina in northern Bandera County.
>>> 
>>> 
>>> http://www.banderabulletin.com/news/article_145e60bc-1ec8-11e2-a92d-0019bb2963f4.html?photo=0
>>> 
>>> 
>>> 
>>> 
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>>> Visit our website: http://texascavers.com
>>> To unsubscribe, e-mail: [email protected]
>>> For additional commands, e-mail: [email protected]
>>> 
> 

--- End Message ---
--- Begin Message ---
The next Kiwi Sink Dig is scheduled for Sunday 11 November. There are
several faces which can be worked on. I would like to take some time
to stabilize some of the slopes which are looking more and more
perilous every month. Starting some time mid-morning and ending
mid-afternoon. For more info or directions call me (don't text) or
email or FB.
--Ediger

--- End Message ---
--- Begin Message ---
In all my years of caving in Texas, I've never driven less than 40+ miles to 
any cave, and 1.5-3 hour drives are no big deal!

So, I'm betting we Texas cavers will take caving in Nevada in stride with no 
problem:) Road trip, anyone? Have cave, we'll travel!

Mimi

Sent from my iPhone

On Nov 4, 2012, at 10:41 AM, Mike Flannigan <[email protected]> wrote:

> 
> Ah - the western states.  Where the concept of
> distance has a whole different perspective.  If
> somebody from NV tells you something is a pretty
> good trek, you better listen.
> 
> 
> 
> Straight-line distances from Ely:
> 
> Ely to Baker Creek System - 39+ miles
> 
> Ely to Whipple Cave - 51+ miles
> 
> Ely to Leviathan Cave - 105+ miles
> 
> 
> 
> Mike
> 
> 
> 
> On 11/2/2012 1:49 PM, [email protected] wrote:
>> 
>> I started caving in Nevada and I can attest to the arid climate and also low 
>> evening temperatures.
>> 
>> On a brighter note a number of of caves near Ely  directly correlate to to 
>> several Texas classics for example:
>> 
>> Baker Creek System - This is the longest cave system in the state of Nevada, 
>> it is a river cave with an awesome mud slide and scalloped walls to admire. 
>> Aka Honey Creek.
>> 
>> Wipple(sp?) -  this cave is a great introduction to verticle caving with a 
>> short (-150ish) entrance drop and a long borehole passage that extends 
>> roughly halfway through the cave until it nearly chokes and then the going 
>> gets a lil tougher. Aka Deep & Punkin Caves.
>> 
>> Leviathan -  This cave is a monstrous collapse and is also a significant 
>> hike to get to and thinking about it I do not know of any caves in Texas 
>> which can really compare... On another note while hiking up to this cave you 
>> pass a large bomb which did not detonate when dropped by the airforce.
>> 
>> I make no claim that these caves will be open and or advertised during the 
>> Ely Convention I just thought I would give you all am idea that there is 
>> definitely a reason to get underground at this convention.
>> 
>> Herman
>> 
> 
> 
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--- End Message ---
--- Begin Message ---
Howdy Caver,

You are cordially invited to the next UT Grotto meeting,
Wednesday October 17th from 7:45PM- 9:00PM
University of Texas Campus in 2.48 Painter Hall (156 West 24th Street,
Austin TX 78712) http://www.utexas.edu/maps/main/buildings/pai.html

Andrea Croskrey will present the Program as -
A project update on Three Fingers Cave, High Guadalupe Mountains, New
Mexico.
This is a very cool ongoing project in an excellent cave system that is
close enough for a weekend adventure.  Come out to share in the stories
from on high as well as the fun and fellowship with Austin Texas Cavers.

For information on Underground Texas Grotto activities, please see
www.utgrotto.org
Officer contact, trip reports, event calendar, and new caver training links
to beginner trips or vertical rope training are available.

Before the meeting, take advantage of Sao Paulo  www.saopaulos.net  for
happy hour specials.  This area is the best place to park and meet folks
walking over to the meeting.  Then after the official meeting, we continue
with the decades long tradition to reconvene for burgers, beer, and tall
tales of caving at Posse East.  www.posse-east.com

The UT Grotto Program calendar is wide open and needs you, the caver with
photos and a story to share about your adventures, scientific research, or
something else really cool.  Contact me.

Sincerely,

Gary Franklin
UT Grotto Vice Chair & Program Organizer
512-585-6057
[email protected]

Andrea Croskrey <[email protected]>

--- End Message ---
--- Begin Message ---
This will be WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 7 TH

On Mon, Nov 5, 2012 at 7:00 AM, Gary Franklin <[email protected]> wrote:

> Howdy Caver,
>
> You are cordially invited to the next UT Grotto meeting,
> Wednesday November 7th from 7:45PM- 9:00PM
> University of Texas Campus in 2.48 Painter Hall (156 West 24th Street,
> Austin TX 78712) http://www.utexas.edu/maps/main/buildings/pai.html
>
> Andrea Croskrey will present the Program as -
> A project update on Three Fingers Cave, High Guadalupe Mountains, New
> Mexico.
> This is a very cool ongoing project in an excellent cave system that is
> close enough for a weekend adventure.  Come out to share in the stories
> from on high as well as the fun and fellowship with Austin Texas Cavers.
>
> For information on Underground Texas Grotto activities, please see
> www.utgrotto.org
> Officer contact, trip reports, event calendar, and new caver training
> links to beginner trips or vertical rope training are available.
>
> Before the meeting, take advantage of Sao Paulo  www.saopaulos.net  for
> happy hour specials.  This area is the best place to park and meet folks
> walking over to the meeting.  Then after the official meeting, we continue
> with the decades long tradition to reconvene for burgers, beer, and tall
> tales of caving at Posse East.  www.posse-east.com
>
> The UT Grotto Program calendar is wide open and needs you, the caver with
> photos and a story to share about your adventures, scientific research, or
> something else really cool.  Contact me.
>
> Sincerely,
>
> Gary Franklin
> UT Grotto Vice Chair & Program Organizer
> 512-585-6057
> [email protected]
>
> Andrea Croskrey <[email protected]>
>

--- End Message ---
--- Begin Message ---
Y'all are poppin my bubble, I thought Texas was crawling with big cats,  
even saw one myself draped across the tailgate of a pickup out in Big bend.  
Ain't you got plenty of whitetails for catbait? Hell, I even saw one up close 
 here in Florida on my fiftieth birthday right outside of Hogtown. I was  
told by the authorities that it was an arboreal German shepherd. 
 
Being careful won't do you much good but fighting back might. I have had  
four, count em four friends who were "attacked" in or near Belize by "Red  
tigers" as they are called. 
 
The most spectacular attack was directed against my jungle buddy Arturo,  
one very bad hombre. We had just returned to the squalid settlement of Mango  
creek after three weeks up the Bladen branch of the Monkey river when a  
village kid ran up to announce, "Turo, Turo, Big man be waitin for you! Big  
man was an overgrown asswipe from a military background who owned an  
adventure trekking company and had decided to undertake a little stroll across  
the 
Maya mountains. His plan was to go up the Bladen branch to its end (where 
we  had just been), cross the Maya mountains to the headwaters of the 
Chiquibul then  across the Vaca plateau to a sacbe (Mayan superhighway) that 
led 
north to the  ruins of Caracol, then back to civilization. The whole trip was 
to take only ten  days. Arturo had a well deserved reputation as the 
toughest of the tough so the  Big man wanted Turo to accompany him. 
 
When I heard this absurd plan I just laughed. We had just taken three  
weeks to cover one quarter of the distance. Arturo explained to  the Big man 
that his plan was impossible, but for extra money he would  lead him across the 
Maya mountains by way of the Trio branch of the Monkey  river, a major 
shortcut. The Big man was an arrogant asshole and I wanted  nothing to do with 
him. I do such things for fun, not to prove a point. So I  bowed out and 
wished Turo, but not the big man, good luck.
 
As Turo tells it, on the morning of the third day he shouldered his  heavy 
pack and took the lead with his machete in hand. The Big man carried  
Arturo's gun and a day pack. As Arturo stepped from between two big boulders a  
huge male Red tiger came bounding down the mountainside and leapt through the  
air with every intent of eating him. Under such circumstances time stands 
still.  Arturo remembered the words of his old Chiclero teacher who said, 
"You can chop  de tiger (jaguar), but you can never chop de Red tiger, him too 
fast, you must  jook him!" So he turned to face the cat, screamed "Fuck 
you!" and stabbed with  his machete as the big pussy flew through the air. The 
point of the machete  caught the cat right in the nose causing it to do a 
double backflip and run  howling up the mountain with blood flying everywhere. 
 
After the cat was gone Turo turned around. The Big man was standing there  
with the gun cradled in his arms trembling like a leaf. Arturo asked, "What 
de  ting you hold in your hand?" That was when the Big man noticed he was 
holding a  gun. Arturo snatched the gun out of his hands, threw down the pack 
and said,  "Big man, pick up the pack. It is time for you to chop and carry 
the load. But  the Big man announced, as "big" men so often do under such 
circumstances, that  they were running behind schedule and perhaps it would be 
best if they  returned.
 
I think Arturo is dead now, but it is hard to be sure because legends die  
hard if at all. He was a bad man. He raped women, killed men, looted 
temples,  and killed more tigers, both red and non red, than he could remember. 
 
Nevertheless I respected him and he respected me. Our mutual respect was based 
 upon our respective abilities in the jungle. In his prime he was a 
chiclero  guide, the fellow who led the other chicleros to untapped trees in 
unexplored  jungle. Perhaps some of you may have heard of how rough and tough 
chicleros  were. Aturo was the alpha chiclero. Along the way he found countless 
ruins and  no doubt looted them all. He tried his hand at guiding 
archeologists but soon  learned to loathe them and their petty bickering ways. 
He was 
paid  pennies, far less that he could make from looting. In his eyes the  
archeologists were simply grave robbers on a grander scale. On our many trips  
into the bush I did what I could to prevent him from looting, but there was 
 nothing I could do to prevent him from coming back after I was gone. 
 
One day we had a big argument about this so he said, "I am going to show  
you what real grave robbery looks like". He took me to a place not far from 
the  Southern highway near Medina bank where archeologists had seen a "hollow 
 mountain" from the air. It was only a few miles from the road but despite  
repeated attempts using local guides it could not be located. So they hired 
 Arturo and he effortlessly found it. The site was pristine. It was indeed 
a  hollow mountain, a huge day lit arch with altars, graves, and numerous 
artifacts  laying in plain sight, an archeologist's dream. He watched while 
they  utterly destroyed the place.
 
When I got there some years later I could hardly believe the destruction.  
In their zeal to extract "knowledge" the archeologists had left nothing but  
piles of dirt, garbage, and miles of flagging tape. Total  disrespect. 
Arturo was especially upset about the destruction of the altar  so I rebuilt it 
to his specifications. If only I could find a virgin! 
 
Logan, are you out there somewhere? Do you remember Arturo? If so tell us  
some stories!
 
SW

--- End Message ---
--- Begin Message ---
But Nancy, your story isn't complete. Didn't the Arc narks try to have you  
arrested for going to the cave in the first place? That has happened to me 
three  times in Belize.
 
The first time a humorless jerk named Tom Miller tried to have me thrown  
out of the country for visiting the Chiquibul cave without his permission.  
(Logan can tell you all about it.) That didn't work because I was already  
there. He wrote letters to the forestry department and the University of 
Florida  accusing me of being a temple looter and drug user who consorts with 
known  outlaws (specifically Arturo and Brother Moses of gales Point). The 
first  accusation is untrue but the second two are true. Upon exiting the Vaca 
plateau  but before writing the letters he burned down my friend Santiago's 
house along  with all of his meager belongings, then left a ten dollar bill 
and a note saying  "sorry". 
 
Then there was the time the director of the Belize Audubon society tried to 
 get the Belize Defense Force (BDF) to search for me in the jungle for the 
crime  of entering the Bladen nature preserve without his personal 
permission. The BDF  just laughed because they never go into the jungle, there 
could 
be snakes out  there! On my way out I ran into a so called "Rapid 
Environmental Assessment"  team funded by the Nature Conservancy and supported 
by the 
British army (those  damned helicopters again!) They had catered meals with 
fresh salads and dessert  yet denied me a pinch of salt. Even though they 
could see I had nothing but a  small pack and the clothes on my back they 
accused me of being a looter. While  saying this they were standing next to 
large sack loads of looted  artifacts.
 
Then an archeologist named Dunham? took great exception to the fact that I  
had explored the valley of Sleazeweazel branch, an upstream tributary of 
the  Bladen branch even further up the Monkey river. There is a small ruin  
there and he wanted credit for being the first person to discover it (by  
helicopter of course!) He apparently brought in a large number of Mayans and  
utterly destroyed the place. His reported pilferage of a large amount of jade  
may or may not be true. I can't bear the thought of it so I haven't been 
back. I  tried to cooperate by sending him photographs of what I had 
discovered.  Unfortunately the aforementioned criminals had in fact dug open a 
grave, 
I  caught them and reinterred the remains. Perhaps it was unwise of me to 
take a  photo of the king's skull with a snake crawling through the eye 
socket. Dunham  was eventually thrown out of the country. Some years later a 
friend of mine who  is a real (i.e. non insane) archeologist attended a 
conference in Belmopan. He  heard my name mentioned and turned to say, "he's a 
friend of mine". For that  they tried to throw him out of the country too.
 
Not all archeologists are insane. What about Logan? (although I have my  
doubts) Why doesn't he pipe up? 
 
SW
 
 
In a message dated 11/6/2012 1:23:25 P.M. Eastern Standard Time,  
[email protected] writes:

ah always such a gust of fresh air.   thought you might enjoy my experience 
with 'legitimate' grave  robbers.





BLADE  CAVE

I was suffering a surfeit of testosterone.  We were midway  through a 3 
month expedition to explore the massive Sistema Huautla, the multi  entranced 
deepest cave in the western hemisphere, at one time 13th deepest in  the 
world.  We had rented 2 rock houses in the miniscule pueblo of San  Augustin, a 
collection of perhaps a dozen 2 story homes, a one room school, a  
basketball court and a jail cell in the basement of the municipal  building.  
Between 
the cobblestone dead end road and the buildings all  the flat land was 
taken.  Subsistence farming took place on the 45 degree  angle hillsides that 
formed enormous sinkholes or dolinas funneling the wet  season floods into the 
cave system, both carving it out and scouring it  slick.  Where the 
hillsides steepened into cliffs, small boys herded  goats looking for 
vegetation or 
gathered twigs for cooking fires.  The  village had no electricity, running 
water was a much repaired plastic pipe  that snaked from miles away and 
dripped steadily over by the basketball  court.  Our 4wd schoolbus and assorted 
Toyota trucks filled to the brim  with cavers and caving gear were the only 
vehicles to bump down this  road.  Once a week, a bus careened past the 
intersection of the cobbled  turnoff, heading even deeper into the mountains of 
Oaxaca, Mexico;   occasionally a pipe bed cargo truck could be flagged down 
for a scary ride on  the one laned s curved dirt road.  Burros carried 
everything else that  came in or out. 



The village had no sanitation facilities,  using the flat ground that 
doubled as main street.  We hacked steps into  the clay cliff behind the house 
and constructed a marginal out  house.


The inhabitants of San Agustin vied to surrender their homes  to us for the 
wealth of rent money, so we had a fieldhouse kitchen on the main  floor, 
with propane stoves, pallets of canned and freeze dried food, cartons  of 
local beer, whatever wilted produce and flats of eggs that were available  in 
the market town of Huautla, about an hour away on foot or by grinding  
jouncing low gear in the trucks.  The downstairs also housed duffel bags  of 
rope, 
the cave required thousands of feet, surveying and mapping gear,  barrels of 
carbide to power our acetylene gas caving lamps, kerosene lanterns,  well 
hidden explosives for enlarging recalcitrant rock passages, digging  tools, 
helmets, rock climbing equipment, a rescue stretcher, first aid  supplies and 
anything else we could imagine might be required.

Upstairs  11 men, my partner and myself staked out sleeping bag sized 
living areas in  what was the family's corn loft.  Upstairs and down was shared 
with rats,  fleas, village dogs and cats. At night the room was a cacophony 
of belches,  farts, and snores.  The villagers went to bed at dark and got up 
an hour  or so before dawn.  All night every night was punctuated by 
crowing,  braying, barking and wailing of the assorted populace.  I was in the  
constant company of men who were eating drinking and expending massive  
calories, who had last bathed 6 weeks ago, and for whom delicacy of feeling or  
conversation was not a priority.

So that morning when a firsttimer  asked if he could join me and Mark on a 
day hike to an entrance Mark had found  previously - I snapped No, go find 
your own cave.  And much to all of our  amazement Frank did.


Mexico has some of the richest karst regions  of the world.  The massive 
bedded limestone has solutioned over the  millennia into vast underground 
networks of huge passages and black  rivers.  These cave systems compete with 
the known depths and  complexities of Europe's best, the caves of the Pyrenees 
and those of the  Ural  mountains, with a bonus.  The tropical temperatures 
of Mexico  made exploration far easier and far less life threatening.  And 
the North  American cavers had them all to theirselves.  In the '60's a 
motley crew  of college students from around Texas began to take their vacation 
breaks in  Mexico, venturing as far as trains and 3rd class buses could take 
them, to  stand on the edges of breathtaking pits far out in the jungle, to 
come home  with stories that could hardly be credited.  The caving fever 
took hold  of these few and those who listened to their stories.  Communal 
housing  was established, old buses and power wagons purchased, group forays 
were made  deeper and further into the mountains, always coming back with more 
 extravagant finds.   Deeper pits, more entrances, big black  beckoning 
wilderness all in the matrix of an intoxicatingly foreign landscape  and 
culture where the dollar went a long ways for these underemployed  students. 
In the land rush to explore this vast underground  wilderness fiefdoms were 
gradually established, loose affiliations of  cavestruck dreamers who 
cooperated somewhat and competed more for longest,  deepest.  Against this 
backdrop, one group had instituted a policy of  hammering a small metal tag at 
the 
entrance of each cave they explored.   Nominally the numbers on this tag 
were meant to let others know that the cave  had been surveyed and mapped, the 
data to be shared, not to waste your time  here, to go on to the next 
undiscovered cave.  Effectively, the data was  back in Austin, often released 
reluctantly and worst case, cave entrances were  sometimes marked for future 
reference without ever being entered - a sort of  finders claim.  I had 
decried this policy for a number of reasons: the  attempted ownership of areas, 
and the dismissive attitude of explorers toward  a cave thus marked.  Despite 
the sure knowledge that there were often  overlooked passages and leads 
there was an obsession by cavers  who  wanted to be the first into a cave, some 
special status conferred on the one  who 'scooped booty' as running headlong 
down virgin passage was called.   Our group didn't use the tag system.

So it was on this spring day in  1987, that Frank went out from San 
Agustin, wandered around the mountains  until he found an entrance, and 
explored it 
on his own, never quessing that  the cave was well known, had been mapped 
and was considered to be  'done'.

When he reached the back of the two medium sized rooms, he  poked into a 
crawlspace following the air, that breath that the cave breathes,  exchanging 
its volume of space each day with the outside world: one long  inhale, then 
an exhale.  Here the ceiling dipped down near the floor,  compressing the 
air and making its flow more powerful.  After wriggling  for a body length or 
so, Frank came out into a room where he could stand up  and he must surely 
have gasped at what his light picked out.  Everywhere  he turned, there was a 
jumble of sophisticated pots.  A far alcove looked  like a dish drainer, 
dozens of pots stacked atop one another and glistening  with calcite deposits 
indicating that they had been here for a very long  time.  The floor was 
littered with finely worked beads.  The center  of the room had a single oblong 
rock oddly alone on the sandy floor.  And  on the rock was a 6 inch 
obsidian blade.  Alongside it was another longer  blade.  A human skull lay 
there 
as well and all about the skull were the  tiny squares of turquoise tile that 
had once decorated it.

He came back  to the fieldhouse, bubbling with excitement, which was 
contagious.  All  plans were set aside the next day and all of us in camp, 
followed him to the  cave.  We explored in amazement, poking into corners and 
exclaiming over  new treasures.  Very few of the caves in this region were so 
amenable to  human access.  Most had entrance drops over 60 feet in depth and 
took  such vast quantities of water in the rainy season that there was rarely 
any  gravel, much less a stash of antiquities.  Despite the suspicions of 
the  locals that we must be after gold or uranium or treasure, this was in 
fact the  first place we had found anything other than rock and water.

For  several days  there was no activity other than admiring Blade Cave as 
it  was promptly named.  Photography, speculation, and solemn agreements all 
 around not to divulge the secret outside of the group.  There was no  
consideration of taking anything.  One of the strongest taboos in caving  is 
taking anything from a cave.  And the taboo is enforced with the tacit  
understanding that anyone who broke it would be kicked out of the group.   It 
was a 
powerful threat. 

What happened next was  worse.

Some months after the expedition had returned to the States, we  received a 
formal note from the wife of one of the explorers.  She was an  archaeology 
student and had found the perfect thesis.  Without consulting  any of the 
rest of the group, she and her husband had returned to Mexico, had  gotten in 
touch with the authorities in Oaxaca City, had taken them to the  cave and 
all the material that could be, had been removed from the site.   According 
to the authorities, it was stored in the basement of the government  museum. 
 I'll bet the items hit the black market before the end of the  day and are 
now displayed in the home of a smug collector.  A gate was  constructed in 
the tiny crawlspace to prevent looting - unofficial looting -  of the pots 
that had been cemented in place.


A thesis sits in a library somewhere unread,  surrounded by hundreds of 
similar ones; a collector gratifies his ego; an  official pockets a payoff;  a 
sacred site undisturbed for centuries, is  ransacked; and a little more 
mystery and wonder vanishes from the  world.

















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