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Charlie at the Helm.
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Cold Trek Home.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Saturday, February 25, 2012
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.
.+
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.
.+
Monday, January 2, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, December 26, 2011
2nd Wednesday in December.
I had a wonderful meeting with Roy Bergstrom (USFS), and he has guided me on the process of obtaining a Special Use Permit for the Cave Next Door project. I believe there was encouragement in that direction from Vicki Schnitzler of the NPS ORCA. So, from a world of boulder uncertainly and haphazardly wedged in plugged cave-passage that I had to put together into one solid wall that will conceivably even withstand an average earthquake, I go into a world of organizations, agencies, interest groups--both special and community--and try to gather as much interest and support as I can for the CND project. My hope is to encourage the USFS to issue that Special Use Permit!
This is such an opportunity! --To discover and explore an unknown pristine cave in real time with a WWW connection. --To learn to apply 21st century technology to the process of cave discovery while maintaining the natural pristine environment of the cave for future generations. --To teach and learn more about caves and how to care for them.
My mind races with such possibilities. If I can make a phone call from inside the cave, what other information can be sent from there too? How fast? Virtual tours made from 3-D lidar technology. Temporary trails that are taken out when the video mapping is done. Exhaustive inventory from the beginning of biota and minerals. Careful observations from an undisturbed environment that might yield clues to the past. The story of the caves history.
And these are just general questions and goals! What I'm thinking about are the actual physical processes and infrastructure necessary to achieve these aims. Materials, power, safety, Procedures, timing, safety. Absolutes, limitations, safety. All the time with maximum respect for the cave, each foot downward into the unexplored carrying its own surprises and challenges... Sounds like fun sitting here beside the fire, sipping on a hot buttered rum.
This is such an opportunity! --To discover and explore an unknown pristine cave in real time with a WWW connection. --To learn to apply 21st century technology to the process of cave discovery while maintaining the natural pristine environment of the cave for future generations. --To teach and learn more about caves and how to care for them.
My mind races with such possibilities. If I can make a phone call from inside the cave, what other information can be sent from there too? How fast? Virtual tours made from 3-D lidar technology. Temporary trails that are taken out when the video mapping is done. Exhaustive inventory from the beginning of biota and minerals. Careful observations from an undisturbed environment that might yield clues to the past. The story of the caves history.
And these are just general questions and goals! What I'm thinking about are the actual physical processes and infrastructure necessary to achieve these aims. Materials, power, safety, Procedures, timing, safety. Absolutes, limitations, safety. All the time with maximum respect for the cave, each foot downward into the unexplored carrying its own surprises and challenges... Sounds like fun sitting here beside the fire, sipping on a hot buttered rum.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
another oldie
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/04evi-iLB7U" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
Opening the lid
Opening the lid
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
November 18, 2011 - The Rainy Season is Here.
Over two months later and the Mistress dig is stabilized. In fact, it never showed any signs of being unstable as the wall was being built down to dig level, but then the main plug boulder had always been securely cross-braced. As it turned out, the large boulder was sitting on another immoveable. This was apparent once it was possible to dig all loose dirt from around the boulders so I could cement them all together. It also turned out as I built the East wall down that there were three other half ton boulders buried beneath the talc from the north and wedged under the intrusive hanging wall on the south, making a total of six major boulders. These are all now concreted together with steel around them. When the wall-and-steps complex reached the dig level there were twelve steps descending a distance of 17 feet.
What do I remember about those weeks of digging? Every day after work, any day of the week. Working 'til dark, sitting around a little campfire to dry gloves and warm hands before driving down the mountain for a late dinner. Remove the collapsed clays back to rocks and boulders, often with airspace underneath where the collapsed material didn't make it. Wash rocks, many coming back down from the surface. Measure for stee and wire it together. Lower buckets of mixed concrete and build wall and steps. Lower the scaffolding platform and begin again. As I lowered the scaffolding I washed the walls, exposing all the intricacies of the marble's crystal structure and boxworks of chert and micro-intrusives (I believe).
I remember one night when Charlie and I were walking down our forest path on our way back to the truck, when we passed two giant Pacific Salamanders going the opposite direction! I almost stepped on one, then a few feet farther on the other one, not seeing them with my weak LEDs, but Charlie's light showed them well, walking up the trail through the night, keeping a promise.
Day by day, the sun slowly moved behind the south ridge for the winter; the first snows came, probably to stay 'til spring. We kept concreting down until all exposed boulderage was cemented together down to the dig level. Interesting notes here: I mentioned above the air spaces under the rock piles. When the mud and clays from the collapsed sink are removed from the boulder pile there was always airspace, no airflow, underneath. This is due of course to the fact that the sinkhole formed from the inside out and the boulders were lying there in the void when the talc above them collapsed, covering but not totally penetrating the rock pile.
When I prepped for the last and lowest step, there was at least three feet of air space down between the boulders it was built on. Mud still filled the area to the south that led down. Along the South ceiling-wall a foot of airspace (slight airflow) led on down where the dig will eventually go. Very promising. I have started laying the stone floor around the top of the shaft, but it will take more dirt from the dig to finish it and my rock pile is now covered with snow. We keep the gate locked at the 30-foot level.
I have decided that from now on I will try to build the wall down before I dig. Darve out a channel in the mud, fill it with concrete, then dig down. I don't know how this will wor with the dig wet. All my concrete work has been in a dry hole, whereas most of the actual digging was with the hole wet and the shoring was cedar beams. At this point I am very comfortable with the dig remaining stable throughout the wet season, although there is still concrete work that could be done even before more digging occurs, and I am anxious to finish up with the materials that have already been packed in.
Another item of note: At last my own and Steve Knutsen's persistence with the NPS and the Forest Service has resulted in these wonderful, helpful giants taking notice of the project (my "passion", to quote another individual familar with the dig), and I am earnestly and anxiously hoping that they are taking us seriously and even will help us and work with us in any capacity they can. Some kind of memorandum of understanding with our administrative friends might go far in helping us achieve our goal of discovering this cave in real time with an internet connection. I will soon have the opportunity to meet with Roy Bergstrom of the Wild Rivers Ranger District and find out after over 10 years of talking with them where I and the Cave Next Door dig stand.
What do I remember about those weeks of digging? Every day after work, any day of the week. Working 'til dark, sitting around a little campfire to dry gloves and warm hands before driving down the mountain for a late dinner. Remove the collapsed clays back to rocks and boulders, often with airspace underneath where the collapsed material didn't make it. Wash rocks, many coming back down from the surface. Measure for stee and wire it together. Lower buckets of mixed concrete and build wall and steps. Lower the scaffolding platform and begin again. As I lowered the scaffolding I washed the walls, exposing all the intricacies of the marble's crystal structure and boxworks of chert and micro-intrusives (I believe).
I remember one night when Charlie and I were walking down our forest path on our way back to the truck, when we passed two giant Pacific Salamanders going the opposite direction! I almost stepped on one, then a few feet farther on the other one, not seeing them with my weak LEDs, but Charlie's light showed them well, walking up the trail through the night, keeping a promise.
Day by day, the sun slowly moved behind the south ridge for the winter; the first snows came, probably to stay 'til spring. We kept concreting down until all exposed boulderage was cemented together down to the dig level. Interesting notes here: I mentioned above the air spaces under the rock piles. When the mud and clays from the collapsed sink are removed from the boulder pile there was always airspace, no airflow, underneath. This is due of course to the fact that the sinkhole formed from the inside out and the boulders were lying there in the void when the talc above them collapsed, covering but not totally penetrating the rock pile.
When I prepped for the last and lowest step, there was at least three feet of air space down between the boulders it was built on. Mud still filled the area to the south that led down. Along the South ceiling-wall a foot of airspace (slight airflow) led on down where the dig will eventually go. Very promising. I have started laying the stone floor around the top of the shaft, but it will take more dirt from the dig to finish it and my rock pile is now covered with snow. We keep the gate locked at the 30-foot level.
I have decided that from now on I will try to build the wall down before I dig. Darve out a channel in the mud, fill it with concrete, then dig down. I don't know how this will wor with the dig wet. All my concrete work has been in a dry hole, whereas most of the actual digging was with the hole wet and the shoring was cedar beams. At this point I am very comfortable with the dig remaining stable throughout the wet season, although there is still concrete work that could be done even before more digging occurs, and I am anxious to finish up with the materials that have already been packed in.
Another item of note: At last my own and Steve Knutsen's persistence with the NPS and the Forest Service has resulted in these wonderful, helpful giants taking notice of the project (my "passion", to quote another individual familar with the dig), and I am earnestly and anxiously hoping that they are taking us seriously and even will help us and work with us in any capacity they can. Some kind of memorandum of understanding with our administrative friends might go far in helping us achieve our goal of discovering this cave in real time with an internet connection. I will soon have the opportunity to meet with Roy Bergstrom of the Wild Rivers Ranger District and find out after over 10 years of talking with them where I and the Cave Next Door dig stand.
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