After repacking the car, Sean and I led Mike to the entrance of King Leo. As we hiked along the logging roads to Hells Hole I wondered why we had bushwhacked all the way from Hell’s hole to King Leo the last time we traversed these woods. Sean spotted a deep sink on the way there. I soon saw the tall, carved tree above the entrance to Hell. I realized that I’d left my grimy kneepads in my brown speckled bat pack. Sean had an extra pair of pads that later made me appreciate Hell’s squishy mud. I graciously accepted them and dawned my vertical gear. I slid my tripod down my crotch and descended the hole to Hell. I missed my cushy kneepads as my knee banged slightly against rock as I rappelled 102 feet down the wall. I hopped down the breakdown and called Off Rope. I set the tripod up in a drippy area with a good view of the entrance pit. I took a couple test shots as Mike rappelled down and then directed Sean to pause twice during his decent. Sean spotted two leads along the way down and got off rope to check them both out. Sean then peeled off his vertical gear and repacked his Swago pack.
We bid Mike good bye and climbed down a small hole at the bottom of the pit. Sean exclaimed "Nasty" when he reached the bottom. Nasty turned out to be a pool of water. Sean didn’t want to get wet. I really hadn’t thought about getting wet. I quickly located an alternate route around the pool and crawled ahead. I don’t know why I have so many left handed gloves. Today I sported two. Cold, wet, sandy dirt penetrated the cloth on my backwards left glove against my right hand. Not far ahead, the passage enlarged and then closed back down. We were forced through a wet triangular tube. I immediately spotted the largest blind crayfish I’d ever seen. Further examination revealed blind crayfish everywhere. None matched the size of their king. I sacrificed my right foot to the cold water as I slid my body along the mud bank. The water wasn’t that bad. Not far ahead we encountered a small dome. I joked how impressive the Whooping Dome was as we disappeared under the left wall. I immediately heard dripping water and we hiked up the slick mud bank into the real Whooping Dome. I was impressed. This was certainly worth a bit of crawling. It’s so close to the entrance. My camera case was now thoroughly slimed across the top. The seal had passed its test and everything remained dry. Sean stood atop a slimed breakdown rock and I snapped a few pictures looking up into the dome. I couldn’t tell exactly how far the dome ascended I agreed with Sean’s comment that it would certainly be one of Indiana’s nicer pits if it could be rappelled. The almost cylindrical pit ascended high above and tapered left towards the top. Sean shone my bright T3 highlighting the top of the pit. Sean’s newest Hell’s Hole scheme is to find passage that connects to the top of this pit.
We continued ahead. The passage was nice for awhile. The walls were always muddy but there were a few spots with pleasing profiles. I like walking down 10’ diameter passage. It just seems right. The passage couldn’t continue thus because Hell’s Hole has a reputation to uphold. We did a lot of crawling. Hell's Hole is a sporty cave. From here on the passage occasionally opened up at a joint or breakdown room. We crawled, stooped, and walked maintaining a brisk pace. We started down a water filled passage and began sliding along diagonally in the mud to stay out of the water. This wasn’t the right way. We retreated. I had time to grab my camera out and snap pictures of Sean as he emerged, splashing from the passage. We continued ahead. The crawling wasn’t too bad but the floor got harder and rockier as we progressed. I wondered how Sean wore such thin knee pads for so long.
We split to the right at a junction and worked ahead still stooping, crawling, and occasionally standing. Sean mentioned dinner and I thought that he probably wanted to head out. We continued further and further ahead. I started down a small slimy passage. It emerged into a larger passage and closed down again which is what we’d become accustomed to. Sean hadn’t brought the map and didn’t think this was the way. The other passage appeared to pinch. We had probably missed something. We suspected we were in the Eastern Borehole but I don’t recall seeing much that I’d call borehole. I was beginning to tire. It’d become more difficult to treat my knees tenderly. I began creating crawling techniques to stay off of my knees. I slid along on my butt, crab walked forward, and side crawled, to save my knees from the hard rock floors.
We headed back out. It didn’t really seem to take that long to get out. I got a second wind once we returned to stooping and walking passage. Sean requested we go slowly through the walking stretch so he could savor it. Further ahead I was flying along. I could hear Sean further behind. He’d moved quite fast through the crawls. I was surprised he had slowed in the stooping and walking passage. His boot sole was loose so maybe that was the problem. Anyway, I soon re-entered the whooping dome. Thinking back, I’m sad that I didn’t whoop. I enjoy Bo-ing.
I paused in the next room to wait for Sean and wondered what type of bats were on the wall. They looked a little different than brown pipistrelle. I decided I’d take a couple pictures. Sean spotted a bat that must have fallen from the ceiling above. Neither of us could have bumped him off. I told Sean he probably had that dream that he was falling. Anyway, his wings were wet and he had a little mud on his back. Sean picked him up and helped him grip the wall. I photographed a couple bats and then took pictures as Sean cradled his hands below the saved bat to make sure he wasn’t going to fall. I hadn’t really taken many pictures in this cave. Sean commented that the cave was not very photogenic. We were soon crawling through the cold, breezy passage towards the entrance. The wind was whipping by as I climbed into the entrance room. I put my tripod away and Sean climbed out apologizing for being slow to climb. I didn't mind. I was glad that light still shone through the entrance. It seemed warmer outside the cave then within. I put on a fleece shirt and packed my slimy clothes into my backpack. We then de-rigged and I led back to the cars. We deduced correctly and followed the logging road directly to the vehicles. I maintained a very brisk pace back to the cars. We were both breathing a little harder when we reached the car. We drove back to Paoli where I stopped for gas. I’d managed to maintain 23.7 mpg since my last fill up which was better than the fill up before, 20.5. The rate of acceleration makes a big difference.
Hells Hole
Sean poses on his way down 102' Hells Hole.
Sean looks up a dome several hundred feet into Hells Hole.
Hells Hole
Sean looks around the bottom of the dome.
Hells Hole
Sean traverses a wet, muddy stoop walk.
Seans getting closer.
Hells Hole
Sean starts to replace the fallen bat.
Hells Hole
Sean starts to replace the fallen bat.
Good thing the bat wasn't in a biting mood.
Hells Hole
The bat clings to the wall as Sean lets go.
Hells Hole
The bat clings to the wall as Sean lets go.
Safe and sound, upside down.