Cyber Kittens and Cowboys Ipam (reading a book txt) 📖

“Thanks, I like cavepack better.” Pamelacomments, weakly as cavepack loads, heavily against her neck &back muscles.

After hardy breakfast of canned beanieweenies & three water bottles and clean up, she & caversgear up & blaze, slowly north over stomped grass & leafs,broken tree limbs sticking legs & thorns scratching jean fabricwhile hungry eaters pick & munch blueberries from bushes asthey hike poison ivy and stinging nettles.

Pamela is purposefully dragging & drawinglast. Last in cave, first to leave. I snigger, lightly.

Down reddish sandy dirt road withhigher-than-heaven slick boulders attached to mountain, Pamelafeels, slightly faint especially looking upwardly. She forgot tobring oxygen mask for panic attack, mentally bruising her braincells.

30 minutes later.

Pamela eye burns wall of stone. Grayish-whitelimestone stands…way to high at 30 feet over my skull. She pivots,soldierly to Roger. He sets rigging gear around his waist thenclimbs like nimble spider up the wall. He tosses, downwardly ropedangling at my nose, snaking at toes. She attaches, swiftly aroundwaist assaulting with boots & gloves bouncing likeuncoordinated Tarzan & crashing like ocean waves into stone.Helmets are outstanding idea for cavers.

Pamela stands uprightly on top of plainlyflat and clear plateau pouring sweat and salt into gloves, clothes,rock & shield sunlight with gloved hand. Roger motions,horizontally index finger due North.

Looking at topo, you see thousands…maybe notthousands of vertically bluffs blocking our path toward Snail Cave.West is gentler slope gliding down 20 feet into more green plants.East is rocks, boulders, plants, trees and bushes.

Pamela huffs & puffs, strongly snakingaround sharp brambles and sticky plants along logging trail togully with horizontally stream of fresh water and aqua plants. Shetramps, nosily across water getting wet and descend, steeply hillside of tall trees & short foliage as she reads, silently map.All these trees, bushes and bluffs make impossible getting GPSreading. She prays, silently going in right direction.

She angles left with trail as tiny speck oflight reveals cave entrance 300 feet blocked by another bluff. Shestops, suddenly & drop, quickly heavy cave pack, breathingheavily.

“Death ledge!” Roger points, rudely at nastyangle of sloping rocks into large, medium and smaller bouldersbelow the mountain by 20 feet.

“Pardon me.” Pamela comments, meekly,stands….way far from slope.

“Called death ledge!” Roger talks, laughs,hardy.

“Don’t scare Bambi, Roger.” Female altovoices, warmingly as Roger shifts to front of cavers.

Roger points, rudely in distance. “Caveentrance’s about 15 feet wide and about 6 feet high. This is one ofmany ‘eye’ entrances. This is why we cave to find the unfound.Paul, here…” Roger slaps Paul’s shoulders. “…saids to cave low anddirty for 15 minutes in muddy and slippery spots then drop of 25foot pit. To play it safe, do no vertical caving. Look for paths towater, bends around bluffs on same contour for other ‘eyes’ andsome of the ledges have collapsed making it a risky traverse. Everyone ready!”

Cavers chant, loudly. “Ready!”

“Last word, the better climbers help the weakones. Any comments, complains?” Roger nods, once. “Drop and crawl,be careful.”

Pamela falls, slowly to fours, two hands andtwo knees, immediately wishing she had more padding on knees andmore muscle in biceps for hauling 20 pounds of dead weight draggingheavy cave pack.

She sweeps, heavily sand dust in faceentering cool cave twisting knees, painfully right then left ofobvious stone passage straight into hillside. Pit appears, deeply25 feet into darkness surrounded by floor of broken boulders.

She stands tall & follows walking ledgeto another pit, deeply 20 feet into darkness. She stares,studiously & ponders, thoughtfully why folks do thisdangerously fun.

Roger points, rudely “Bats.” Clump ofbrownish-black small things hangs, upside-downly from ceiling about3 feet wide in three layers thick of bats hanging from other bats.“Don’t frighten the little fellows.”

Floor of passage is 20 feet wide, about 10feet ahead, looming pits, directionally on east, west andnortheast. Cavers debate, softly rigging points of bridge, steamedheat from pits and who enters each pit for inspection.

Waterfall is opposite of bat wall. Hot andhumid steam bombards faces, sweaty hands in gloves and sweaty toesin boots.

She stands, soldierly & view, studiouslyentire pic. High curved ceiling, deep curved walls, passage broadwalk heads north passed by excellent 20/15 eye sight. She watches,impatiently.

Helena rigs webbing to her pack tied withwater knot and extra overhand knots. “Risky climb-down?”

“Naw, we do fine. I brought my grigri anddynamic rope for belays.” Roger holds, vertically rope andequipment in air.

“Good thinking, Roger.” Helena compliments,goody & she rigs rest of her rope to Roger’s rope pad. Theystand, scary on edge of ledge then descend to lower level Helenafirst. Pamela stands, solidly in her perch.

Helena echoes, loudly. “Small stream sixinches deep.”

Cavers separate into three groups scratchingand clawing rig webbing and ropes for new adventure of pitsites.

Pamela pulls, silently map & studies,hardy near her escape point.

“Pat.” Male tenor voices, softly.

Pause.

“Pat.” Male voice whispers, softly &shakes, roughly her arm. She eye burns him.

“Yeah, Pat. What?” Pamela whines, baby-tonishforgetting her cover ID.

Male tenor asks, smiles. “Ya going with us,or Roger’s group?”

Pamela points, rudely down passage. “I can gostraight, right? I mean North. There’s something…over there,right?” She reads tiny map.

Male talks, points, rudely North. “Awesomekeyhole, go experience it. Holler if you get lost or scared.”

“Yeah, holler. I will.” Pamela nods, once& drifts, swiftly North stowing map while lifting heavy pack toback muscles, painfully.

She follows, slowly narrow canyon passagedownstream of cave. On left, water stream drops to lower level askeyhole appears blocking eyeballs. She pitches, forcefully cavepack to stone then slides, playfully through keyhole into secondlong, narrow ledge. Passage opens to more broken boulders as shestumbles, clumsy upon gap in bridge.

Pamela back pedals, quickly & studiesterrain. Two different leads, one right to reddish walls reflectingspecks of gold, green and silver from steaming minerals or one leftslopes, dangerous downward then drops, deadly into darkness.

“Clearly, lefty’s the road not traveled.”Pamela comments, nasty thinking of the famous literature poem frommiddle school.

Pamela follows, safely right as clear walkingpassage bends into right turn. She stops, suddenly & glances,suspiciously behind me. I’m heading on northeast pace. She bodytwists, slowly