Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Into the Dark, Watery Unknown

Today was the day of cave tubing. I had slept fitfully, anxious about the expedition. All the local bacteria had finally caught up to me and I had visited the toilet at least six times over the previous 12 hours. I reluctantly took another anti-diarrheal (nothing like feeling like you need to poop and not being able to). I didn't want to leave an unpleasant trail behind me while floating through the Nohoch Che'en Caves Branch on the Caves Branch River. I wasn't able to take any pictures because my camera would have drowned, but the link above will give you and idea of the experience.

We ate breakfast quickly and got a daypack together, just to end up waiting half an hour for our late driver. Smokey did his best to entertain us while we waited, but I was almost ill with anxiety about the expedition. It had been raining lightly but steadily since we awoke, and we had heard stories of people drowning in the caves due to flash floods. The driver finally rolled up in a loud, diesel powered van that already contained a middle-aged English tourist named Caroline who would be going along with us. Our driver's name was Bruce. I immediately asked him about the safety of the impending trip but he did not seem concerned.

We were one of the first groups to arrive at the head of the river trail. Bruce explained to us that we would first have to walk about 45 minutes in the steady rain and then would get in the river. Caroline, who was beginning to seem more and more high-maintenance, complained that she had not been informed of this part of the trek and suffered from rheumatoid arthritis. Ultimately, she decided to tough it out.

Charlie asked me if I was excited, to which I responded, "No, I'm scared." But I figured I could always walk back if the river looked too crazy. We were provided with dingy life vests, headlamps on elastic straps, and standard black tire inner tubes with long metal valves, perfect for goosing occupants in sensitive areas. We could tell from the state of our gear that our guide was maybe a little less than official. Most other tour groups we saw had large, comfortable looking bright yellow chair-like tubes, nice helmets with lamps, and newer reflective life vests.

Gear in hand, we walked to a place on the river where we would have to cross to get to the trail. My anxiety immediately dissipated. The water was moving so slowly that it almost looked like a swimming pool. Bruce pointed to a red rope that was strung horizontally across the river, several feet above the surface of the water. He explained that cave tubing was only canceled if the water rose to the level of the rope. The biggest challenge in crossing here was the slippery rocks.

The trek was slightly hilly and there were a few stairs here and there, but it wasn't a particularly strenuous journey. After only 15 minutes or so in the constant rain, we were as soaked as if we had already been swimming. I was thankful for the rain because it kept me cool and kept the bugs away. I knew that in fine whether I would have been just as soaked with my own sweat and eaten alive by mosquitos. Besides, the sound and appearance of the gently falling rain made the trek through the lush, green rainforest an almost magical experience. It was like a live action version of the movie FernGully, minus the fairies of course.

Along the way, we stopped to explore a couple of cool, dry caves, their interesting geological formations, and the resident fauna (bats, frogs, and moths). Bruce also pointed out a few interesting plants along the way. One was called mimosa, known colloquially as "sensitive plant" or even "shame plant" because as a defense mechanism, its leaves recoil inward when the plant is touched or disturbed in any way. Bruce also pointed out wild bananas, pineapple, and quinine, which is used to prevent and cure malaria.

During the trek, we passed a couple of large tour groups that had been been bussed in from cruise ships. One of their guides made a comment about how at this time the previous year everyone was worried about the end of the world. One American woman hollered back, "If Obama stays president, it will be the end of the world!" A few people in the group quietly and politely protested, asking what had happened to their agreement not to discuss politics. One woman ran up to the loud idiot and gave her a hug in a show of solidarity. Charlie said audibly, "I think that just made me stupider," and a woman next to him smiled. Remember folks, the concept of free speech does not travel abroad with you. Kindly keep your mouth shut so that everyone can have a good time.

We got to the place in the river where we would put in at the very same moment another of the large, well-equipped (and well-coddled) tour groups was getting in. We waited for them to push off and I noticed that their tubes were all lashed together like a large raft. Their guide held on to one side of the mass and walked or swam to drive them along.

Then it was our turn. Bruce helped us get off the metal platform on the river bank and into our tubes. Caroline fell while attempting this transition and I felt bad for her. Luckily she only scraped her arm. Bruce hooked his feet onto Caroline's tube in order to guide her down the river, while Charlie and I free-floated on our own nearby, setting off into the first cave.

The water was so calm the whole way that we had to paddle a bit to get anywhere in a reasonable amount of time. By the end of the long, slow journey, our arms were burning from all the paddling. We leaned our heads back to point our headlamps at the rock formations on the cave ceilings so that we could examine them. The voices of the other groups melded into a weird, echoey mush over our heads. It was trippy and beautiful.

We emerged from the first cave, accelerated slightly over a few gentle "rapids", and then entered the next cave. This one had a high ceiling covered with stalactites, with varying flowstones and columns along the walls. A tiny waterfall flowed in from one side, its sound so amplified that it felt as if we were right next to Niagara Falls. Bats chirped as they darted overhead.

We exited the second cave and spent the remainder of the journey being sprinkled with cool rain. We worked our shoulders to death trying to stay together and avoid obstacles in the river. I managed to ram into a branch protruding from the water in a fast moving area. It whipped me around 180ยบ degrees but fortunately did not damage my tube. In a couple of areas we actually had to get out of our tubes and walk because the water was too shallow to float on.

Finally, we reached the place with the rope where we had originally crossed to get to the trail. Some American tourists were jumping off of a small cliff and into the river in an area that was certainly too shallow for this to be safe. They had to be told repeatedly to wait to jump so that they didn't land on Charlie and I as we floated by. As we climbed out of the river, Charlie wondered out loud why on earth they would even be engaging in such an activity. "Because they're American," Caroline offered. We laughed and agreed.

We found our van, grabbed our change of clothes, and headed into the restrooms to change. Our arrival time that morning had apparently been perfect for avoiding the crowds because the parking lot was now completely full of tour busses shuttling in hoards of people from the cruise ships. Bruce had brought some box lunches for us, but the picnic areas were all soaked, so we ate in the van. After seeing how the more official groups seemed to operate, we were glad we had experienced the river as the tiny foursome that we were. We had much more freedom to explore our surroundings and enjoy the ride compared to the well-outfitted groups.

Bruce returned us to Twin Palms by one o'clock. When we entered our spotless room, we discovered that the folks at the B&B had left us a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice in our mini-fridge, along with a few cokes. They were so dang nice that I felt like I never wanted to leave. We were physically exhausted and attempted a nap, but it was cut short by an alert sound on our borrowed mobile phone upon the arrival of a spam text message. We lazed around, packed our belongings for the next leg of our trip, and watched TV. For dinner, we ordered beans and rice for delivery from Caladium, although we really missed not having the Marie Sharps Exotic Sauce that was supplied at every table in the restaurant. Even so, we happily ate and watched South Park until it was time for bed.

1 comment:

  1. That sounds like an amazing day out! Even meeting the political dorks didn't ruin it ๐Ÿ˜„

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