Caving

When we were kids we were taken several times to Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky.  It was exciting to be camping and to go on the daylong tour of Mammoth Cave, seeing its stalactites, stalagmites, and the other limestone formations that had developed over thousands of years.  Perhaps the most memorable moment on the tour was when the tour guide turned off all of the lights and we sat there in TOTAL silence and darkness.

In our late teens, my cousin Dan and I returned to Mammoth Cave several times to camp and go on the cave tours.  I think it was probably around 1972 that my cousin Dan started doing a lot of spelunking with friends who were also interested in caving.  They organized caving expeditions to some rather unknown caves they found out about in Kentucky.

A few times I was able to join in on their explorations.  It was alway a strange feeling to be in a cave, lying on your belly, trying to crawl through the mud of a low narrow passageway and suddenly think about all of the tons and tons of rock lying between you and the outside world.

Most of those caving trips took place in rather wild areas of Kentucky.  I remember on one of our excursions we were traveling to a cave in someone’s mini-bus.  The vehicle was slowly bumping up a weed-grown, unused trail on the side of a hill.   As it climbed the steep trail narrowed.  I was sitting in the passenger side when the bus began to get closer and closer to the steep drop-off at the edge of the hill.  It was at this point we stopped and the driver suggested that I open the door and check how close we were to the edge.  

I opened the door and put my foot down through the high weeds.  My foot went down and further down.  The truck was literally resting just on the edge of a cliff.  I got back in and we all kept our fingers crossed as the bus slowly, with a lot of braking, inched its way back down the slope.

    The group set up camp across from a cemetery. The area was forested mountainous country with steep valleys.  There was a railway nearby to where we camped.  Looking down the track we could see that it traveled over a trestle that spanned a deep canyon and then beyond that went through a tunnel.  

In the group was a family with a couple of kids.  The father and the kids wanted to explore the railroad trestle and went down and started walking down the track.  The idea sounded crazy and dangerous to me, but I went along.  We had gotten out on the trestle a bit, when I heard a train.  I tried to tell everyone without showing my panic, to get off of the trestle and return to flat land quickly.  Luckily, everyone made it back before the train rounded the corner.

Looking back now on those caving trips, I realize that it wasn’t being in the caves that I remember, but the things that happened outside.  I do vividly remember the entrance of one of the caves we explored, because a creek about one and a half foot deep came right out of the cave’s mouth.  We had to wade through the water to get into the cave.  Once inside the cave the creek channel was off to the side and we could walk on firmament.

    The photo above shows my cousin Dan, checking out creek coming out of a cave.  Below, walking the trestle before the train came.

    I have another caving story for tomorrow.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

 

The River by James Alexander Thom

This 1981 novel is based on a true story that began in 1755 in a small pioneer settlement in the frontier of Virginia.  Mary Ingles and her two young sons were outside their log cabin, when their settlement was attacked by a band of Indians who brutally killed Mary’s mother, her infant niece, and other residents in the hamlet.  Mary’s husband and brother who were some distance away working in a field, didn’t even know about the attack.

Mary, her two boys and sister-in-law were abducted by the natives; forced to travel with them as they made their escape.  Mary, in hysterics, who was pregnant and near her delivery date, was put on a horse with one of her sons as the party traversed through the rough mountainous wilderness for days, then weeks as they headed for the tribes home.  She gave birth to a girl along the way.  The Indians treated her with understanding during the birthing and the ordeal of their travel, compared with the brutality they had demonstrated during the attack.

They seemed to gain respect for Mary, after the brave and unflinching way she gave birth and the dignity she tried to maintain despite her fear.  The head of the raiding party seem to show her special attention.

On the 800 mile wilderness journey to the Indian village, the group followed various rivers, finally traveling a long distance beside what is now the Ohio River.  Mary made herself try to remember the landmarks along the way, thinking they would be the only way she might ever find her way home to her husband.

Once they arrived at the Indian village, Mary strove to keep her dignity and seemed to maintain the special status she had been given my the warrior leader.  Her two boys adapted quickly and seemed to thrive in their new life with the Indians.  Her baby was often cared for by a young woman who had recently lost her baby.  There were several other captive whites in the village, including an older Dutch woman named Ghetel.  Also there were two French traders that lived with tribe.

Mary rejected a chance to live with the warrior leader and was then given to the French traders and made to make clothing which they sold.  At one point she and Ghetel were taken by the French traders to collect salt and Mary convinced Ghetel it was their chance to make an escape back to Mary’s pioneer home.  An escape meant Mary would leave her two boys, who seemed to like Indian life, and her infant daughter who was loved by the young Indian maiden and would never survive the trip back to the pioneer settlement.

Mary and Ghetel made their escape with only a hatchet, blankets, and the clothes on their backs, into the wilderness.  The whole latter half of the novel then concentrates on the epic struggle the two women had to endure in their attempt to get back to Mary’s husband.  Their trip was horrific, eating the roots of plants once nuts and berries disappeared when winter arrived.  Eventually they were without blankets and clothing due to mishaps and wear.  Even cannibalism reared its ugly head as they starving women struggled to stay alive.  

Mary often had to guess which rivers and creeks to follow.  They often had to hike miles up the tributaries in order to cross them then backtrack to get back to the river they were following. 

Follow the River is a fascinating account of the terrible ordeal that the two women undertook, and their unwavering determination and will to survive.  It is a true story that will amaze the reader.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

 

Turbulent Clouds

    We’ve had a couple of days of thunderstorm warnings and did experience several storms.  The atmospheric turbulence did create some dramatic cloud formations around sunset last night.  

    The thunderstorms overnight did stress out Kona again and led to another sleepless night for me as she again clung close in bed.  She ended up spending the night on my pillows and tight against me, so I spent the night trying to sleep without a pillow and clinging to the edge of the bed.

    Today the weather has cooled, our heat wave seems to have ended and hopefully the storms have all passed over.  I am overdue for a peaceful night of sleep.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

 

The Dog, The Cat, and a Mosquito

    I had a horrible night last night.  Kona started pawing my bed at 2:30.  I figured that she needed to go outside, so I got up, walked downstairs, put her on a leash, grabbed a flashlight and took her outside.  She didn’t seem that urgent to do anything, but she did do a short pee.  I thought it was a bit strange that she woke me up for that.

    We came back in the house and then she was all nervous and jumped on my bed.  She clung tightly beside me, then it began to thunder outside.  It must have been distant thunder or a sense of thunder, that woke her up in the first place.  Kona is terrified of thunder and trembles in her panic of it.  

    When the thunder intensified, she couldn’t be calmed.  She pawed at my neck, draped herself over my head, nervously twitching and bumping me relentlessly, despite all my efforts to calm her.  I tried to hug her tightly to give her security, but it didn’t ease her at all.  Eventually the thunder ceased and slowly Kona calmed down, but she stayed cuddled up tight against my head.

    Then Lucifer the cat jumped up on the bed and she positioned herself tightly against my right side (Kona was clinging on my left).  I was unable to go back to sleep, afraid to move and cause agitation to the animals.  I lay there motionless, with my eyes closed, trying to sleep, but then the pets were joined by a mosquito that kept trying to get its ounce of blood from me.  Every time I felt like I was getting close to dozing off, the mosquito came buzzing around my head.

    Another wave of thunder came throwing everything back into chaos.  This was then followed by another period of calm with the pets, but the mosquito continued to bother me.  Eventually I did finally fall asleep and managed to get an hour and a half of shuteye, but upon wakening, I sure didn’t feel very rested. 

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca 

 

The Jungle Beside Our House

    We have a narrow strip of a flower garden that runs along the side of our house.  It is right beside the sidewalk, so I go by it all of the time.  Its lushness is one of the things I look forward to seeing during the summer.  The Hostas and ferns give it the feel of an exotic jungle, despite the garden’s small size.

You can view several paintings of the Hostas at:  davidmarchant.ca

 

Sandhill Cranes

    While walking Kona on Horseshoe Lake Road, I glanced over toward the lake and noticed three long necks sticking out above one of the artificial islands.  From the distance, I wasn’t able to tell what they were until I heard the distinct “gobbly” sound that one of them made, then I knew they were Sandhill Cranes, probably the parents and their young,

    It’s probably been only 15 years since I was made aware of Sandhills around here.  Most pass through on their migration, but some over-summer in the valley, and I imagine this trio is one of those.  In the fall when the migrating Sandhills come through you can sometimes see about 100 of them out in the fields resting and carbo-loading for the rest of their flight south.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

 

A Stellar Evening

    Usually on our jam nights the weather isn’t very cooperative.  It is either cool, showery, windy, or a combination of them.  Last week it was windy until it settled down and then the mosquitoes came out in force, finally causing us to shut down our jam early, but last night things were perfect when we gathered on the train station porch.  It was warm with a gentle breeze, the sun was shining, and I wasn’t attacked by mosquitoes.

    Others noticed the stellar conditions and ventured out onto the streets of McBride.  The horse riders came by for a listen, and others, who were out for an evening stroll or a bike ride, joined in to sing or just to listen or watch. 

    I start looking at looking at the weather forecast for Tuesday on about Thursday, hoping for a nice evening, but I suspect that we won’t have another like last night for the rest of the summer.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca