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previous--Dirty Old Men pg176
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BUDDY
PENLEY'S
CAVE
"Many long weeks ago, my good friend, Bobby Lewis, was organizing a mapping expedition to the deep inner sanctum of Buddy Penley's Cave, and he wanted to know whether I'd come along. Being a rather innocent young trainee, I had no hesitation whatsoever about volunteering. I'd been to Upper Penley's with Bobby at the beginning of fall quarter for my first cave trip, and since that section was really quite easy, I figured Lower Penley's could be no worse. Ho--ho-ho. Little did I know that there were nasty little orcs and man-eating bats around every corner.
"Included in our little adventure were Doug Perkinsand Bill Park, gentlemen of doubtless respect and unimpeachable credentials as cavers. So off we rambled into the dark and deadly pits full of danger, not to mention guano.
"At the bottom of the hundred foot drop which separates Upper from Lower, Bobby led the way through a hole in the wall, down into an amazingly warm, dry pit, and through a dusty belly crawl. We were approaching the fabled Penley's Crossover, inhabited by all sorts of roving demons and wicked spirits, not to mention the bodies of cavers who didn't make it. Only the night before the Club had heard Gary Mossdescribe very graphically the horrors of that narrow pass and the somewhat unorthodox, but very effective method that Bobby employed in traversing it. The exhibition that Bill, Doug and I witnessed was no less hair-raising: Bobby, after squeaking around a corner on a very tight belay by Bill, stood up very shakily on one side of the thirty-foot gorge. Suddenly he lunged at the blank wall four feet away, apparently finding handholds on the differences of color in the rock. In any event, after straddling the crevice for awhile, he edged along the landing at the other end and proceeded to belay the rest of us across in similar style.
"That crossover marked the approach to Lowest Penley's, a dungeon so deep and foreboding that one would have to ascend in order to go to Hades. On we forged, through leads ever tighter and crawls ever wetter. After a refreshing swim in a glistening pool of gobbledygook, we re-carbided and continued; we finally reached the last borders of civilization through a crack made by Russ Peterson. Gazing wistfully into one last pit and wondering how to get into it besides jumping, I stumbled accidentally into a side lead and decided to explore it. Bobby was right behind me shouting 'Virgin! Virgin!' When I turned around to see where he was, he zipped by me. Up and up it went, getting bigger and bigger; Bobby was going crazy hoping for a new entrance. He quieted down when he finally hit his head on the ceiling.
"When we finally started to map the first thing we surveyed was an insignificant lead about 100 feet long. In this passage was the palace of the lord of all mud. The crawl itself was only four inches high, but the mud gave way to make room. It was so wet that if you set your lamp down, it would sink. This made everyone so wet and miserable that at last we heard Bobby's famous last words: 'I quit! I'm never come' to this cave again! I'm never goin' caving again in my life! Ever! I quit!
"With that we packed up and escaped from the bowels of the earth without being attacked by giant spiders or anything. Being the first one back to the bottom of the 100-foot pit, I began searching for the rope. It was gone! I thought some thieving troll had stolen it when I saw the end hanging in a bundle twenty feet from the ground. Apparently it had slowly twisted while we were gone. Anyhow, with Doug holding me steady, I mounted a ten-foot rock and swung my prusik to lasso the rope and pulled it down.
"After that we fled, with 100 feet mapped, never to return. Tomorrow we're going back!"--Pete Schnarrs, THE TECH TROGLODYTE, Spring 1969.
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Bill Biggers explores Grate Cave. Looking on one: Lucas, Baroody, Titcomb, filling station man, Wood, Holsinger, 1966. Contributed by J. R. Holsinger. |
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Back in the good old days at the Shelburne Hotel, Roger Baroody, Bill Biggersand a few others were chatting with the tavern owner. He asked them if they'd checked out the cave "over there?" Following his pointing finger in the general direction of the caves they'd been exploring, they said sure! "No," says the tavern owner, "I mean over there." Gradually the light downed that he was not pointing in a general direction, but nearer at hand. They were directed to Grate Cave; just lift the grate over a hole on one side of the Shelburne, and there's a cave! |
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