Dig Update 1/30/12

A further note on the progress made to rediscover and construct a safe and permanent trail into one of Oregon's largest and known marble caves....
I hesitate to call it a dig since no digging has been done.  Too bad too, (note: if you drew a line down the middle of the last 3 words and the two halfs would almost be mirror images--as in--oot bad too.) anyway--because the Mistress dig has been really dry and there hasn't even been a mile of snow to shoe through.  Could have had another 5' dug down, and built.  I have been working on getting a permit with the help of many people.  I have drawn up a management plan, written some letters, and have been better able to define what the CND is all about.  It is like building the same structure out of words and meanings that in the past 12 years has been built out of physical steel, stone, and sweat.  An image of hopes and dreams formed while spending 1000's of hours in a 4'x4' hole wondering how far to go and what would be there, other than, of course, a big void underground. 

Now in a physical sense that is all a cave is, with mineral and bio attributes of course. As a tree is just a bunch of hydro-carbons stuck together with all their attributes.  Anything else that defines a cave or tree is some kind of cultural transparency laid over the physical  for human reasons.   Reasons we choose because we are homo-sapiens on earth and we seem to be the ultimate choosers on the planet.  To which god shall we sacrifice to, so to speak, the smooth-tongued Mammon?  Coy Minerva?  Staid Science?  The strong exotic one?  The elusive unknown one?  The one of "things as they really are"?  And the eternal question: Do I sacrifice this for myself or do I sacrifice myself for this?  And what is this other than a hole in the ground, or what I have made it to be?  That is a question we probably shoule ask about everything on Earth we touch: What is this other than what I have made it to be? Is "to get an answer" reason enough to answer a question?  A good question seems to be more common than a good answer. So some how, you have to sort out which question needs answering, and for that, you need good reasons for answering it.  There cetainly have been plenty of questions to ask for a reason to dig.  If I couldn't find a good one, I used a bad one. 

These are the sort of questions that have suggested themselves, (how do questions do that?), over the years of digging into the unknown for unknown reasons.  These are the sort of ruminations that have found their substance in the proposed management plan, a plan that emphasizes the gentlest possible touch on the cave to allow the cave an opportunity to speak for itself in whatever way a cave may speak.  Just in case a cave is more than rocks in a void.

There is a growing body of evidence that plants feel and react to human emotions and actions. That might imply they would like more choice in the conditions of their lives, or at least someone to listen and help them out a little bit.  Where did that garden keeper go?  You know, the guy with the shovel and pruning hook?  And if the Spirit has penetrated into the vegetable world, might it also have penetrated into the heart of matter?  Yea, even be what holds it together? 

Did I mention that Charlie and I visited the cave dig for a safety check?  The foot or so of rain that came with the end of January finally brought the water table up, and the dig is dripping again.  Not only water, but a 6" hole at collar level in southest corner dribbled a half dozen buckets of mud and gravel down the steps.  The hole was plugged with spilings driven in.  That is just part of digging an active sink hole.  There were also a couple of freeze-cracked valves in the water line.  We remvoed them for replacement.  Since the snow had melted back and the rock pile was exposed, we got the rocks out of the weather and put them under roof in case, we got back to work before the snow is gone in the spring.  If we get any snow that is.

Charlie took some more video with a new camera.  He's trying to capture the experience of descending the shaft.  Our photography is weak.  We have very few pictures that do the project justice.  This is do a lot I guess, because, when we get to the site, we just start digging and the tech end of things gets neglected.  It's hard to be the photgraphic recorder of one's self.  We need a dedicated techie and someone to escort buckets up and down the shaft added to the team.  I wonder if those come with a Forest Service permit? If anyone reading this would like to tell the FS that you are in favor of what we are trying to do you can email Leslie Jehnings at ljehnings@fs.fed.us , and say so.  Otherwise, these updates might get more obtuse. 
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Poem: "Coming of Age"

As more caves are discovered and explored
  And as the days of "busting virgin passages" are coming to an end;
As spelunkers become cavers, and cavers become women and men,
  And we learn to treat these caves with the respect that they demand;
It becomes time to slow down, stop--even look around a little bit.
  There might be more to these old friends than just the thrill of it,
These capsules of time, with secrets written in stone and whispering magic sands.
  Getting to know one can be a lifelong undertaking
What with the mysterious forces that go into the natural making,
  And the slow tedious comprehensions of cannots and cans.
Maybe it's the urge to settle down that tends to afflict old age;
  You know--a new perspective from the rocking-chair, or by turning a new page,
Or, perhaps, the heart is just catching up with the hand.