Cave Escapade

The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.

-Joseph Campbell

A strong breeze whipped my hair around my face in a mad tangle. I brushed the errant strands out of my eyes and squinted at a scene of sun-soaked orange trees as they flew passed me in a blur. A glance over to my friends revealed huge smiles on everyone’s faces, an expression that I mirrored back to them. Vince, Bonnie, David and I were presently bouncing along a dirt road in the open back of a military utility truck, clad in sturdy camo pants, and eager to start the day’s adventure.

I’d arranged a tour for the four of us with Ian Anderson’s Caves Branch Adventure Company, a jungle lodge and tour agency that specializes in high adrenaline excursions. Our morning cave tour had been advertised as physically demanding and adventurous, but the military truck was a fun surprise that had instantly put us all in an excited mood.

Our guides for the day, Thelma and Junior, took turns driving the hulking truck over a landscape of rivers and orange groves owned by a local Mennonite community until we arrived at an unassuming location some twenty minutes later. When the truck grounded to a halt, we each grabbed a canvas backpack that had been assigned to us. Inside each pack was a few liters of water, a climbing harness, and a helmet with a bright light. Thelma showed us the best way to fasten our provided life preservers around our bags, and then beckoned us to follow her along a narrow trail that cut into the jungle.

Thelma led us on a twenty minute hike through the forest, stopping frequently to point out interesting things like a huge colony of leaf cutter ants, and edible plants. She took a machete to a woody looking water vine, and held out a cut piece of it so we could smell its spicy scent. We chimed in, asking her a barrage of questions about jungle survival, and before we knew it the hike was over and we were staring into the dark mouth of a massive cave. This ostensibly marked the beginning of the real adventure, but the journey to get here had already been exciting in its own right.

Sloughing our packs off of our backs, we settled down for a few minutes to drink some water, clip on our helmets, and get a quick briefing about what to expect inside the cave. Thelma outlined some basic geological history of the different formations we would see, and urged us to avoid touching them unless we were about to fall over. Then it was go time. We all reached to our foreheads to click on our lights, and followed Thelma and Junior into the darkness.

Insect and fruit eating bats swooped and dived around us near the cave entrance, and a glance overhead revealed dozens of little fluffy bats clinging upside down to the ceiling.

As we got further from the daylight, the bats dissipated. Soon there were only a couple of stragglers here and there, and then there were none. Around the same time, I felt the atmosphere around us change from muggy, hot, and green smelling, to cool and clammy. Now we had well and truly left the surface.

But just because we’d left the bats behind didn’t mean there was any shortage of neat critters to find. The flying mammals were instead replaced by a delightful selection of creepy crawlies. Cave crickets, crabs, and tailless whip scorpions could be found lurking on rocks, and ducking into holes to hide from our lights.

Our journey deeper into the cave led us over some amazing formations. Tiered layers of flowstone formed natural infinity pools, complete with water trickling over their edges, and we passed by several impressive stalagmites. A river ran through the cave, and we often had to wade knee-deep into its waters, thoroughly soaking the tennis shoes we’d borrowed for the tour.

Thelma stopped often to relay fascinating information about the cave’s wildlife, geology, and history. At one point, Junior scurried up a steep hill and disappeared for a minute or so, returning with a tiny, dark brown pot. Thelma explained that it was an artifact from when the ancient Mayans used the cave for ceremonial purposes. Typically they would have smashed the pots they brought into the cave, but this one was somehow perfectly intact. She held it in the palm of her hand for us to inspect, joking that it was the right size to be a good shot glass.

Junior returned the pot to its hiding place, and we pressed on, eventually making another stop to examine a collection of wispy, hair-like, white strands hanging from a low section of the cave’s ceiling. They were the work of larva that spin them as a trap to catch flies, much like a spider’s web.

Ducking beneath the larva’s net, we crouched and crawled underneath a long passageway with a low ceiling. When we reached the other side, we stood up straight to find the most beautiful formation we’d seen towering over our heads. It’s base was made of glittering cave crystal that twinkled and danced as our lights hit its surface. Above the crystal stood a pillar whose face was covered in a drip-like like texture, a natural chandelier hanging high over our heads. I craned my neck upward, thinking about how amazing it is that this magical, secret world is hidden right beneath our feet.

While the four of us ogled the cave crystal, Thelma and Junior began fishing colorful rocks out of the river. Once they’d found three different colors, Thelma rubbed them against a large, flat stone. The colored rocks were soft and left a pasty residue on the larger stone, creating a sort of natural paint palette. Thelma dipped her pointer finger into a rusty orange color and asked if any of us wanted face paint. Of course, all four of us volunteered and soon we were all laughing as we admired each other’s faces.

Getting our rock face paint was a turning point in the tour.  Now it was time to don our harnesses and life vests, and abandon anything that we didn’t want getting wet. I polished off one of my water bottles as long as we were stopped, and awkwardly wiggled into my harness. Just when everyone had finished gearing up, Thelma surprised us by catching a nearby whip scorpion for us to hold. Apparently they are harmless in spite of their menacing looking crab-like pedipalps.

I was the last to hold the whip scorpion, and I set it free on the same boulder that Thelma had found it on. Then we waded into the river, the water rising to our waists this time. More crystalline flow stone formed a sparkling wall on our left side. Eventually a low hanging passage opened up at its base, and we swam underneath a gate of stalactites to reach a hidden chamber that roared with the echoing sound of a small waterfall.

We had officially entered the fun part of the cave. Our path now involved scrambling up boulders as water tumbled downward in our faces, climbing though tubes, and scaling waterfalls. I could barely hear anyone else over the sounds of crashing water, but I could tell by looks on their faces that everyone was loving it.

After climbing over a couple of small waterfalls, we came to a much taller one. Junior had run ahead while the rest of us were holding the whip scorpion, and now we knew why. He was standing at the top of the waterfall, anchored into a pair of bolts in the wall, ready to belay us. My stomach did a flip in anticipation, not because of the climb, but because I knew that once I was at the top, I’d be committed to jumping back down eventually.

I pushed the thought away as Bonnie tackled the climb. When she was clear of the rope, I followed. It wasn’t the most difficult climb I’ve ever done by a long shot, but it was made more complicated by buckets of water pouring into my eyes every time I looked up to search for a hand hold. Luckily the holds were huge and easy to hang onto, so I made it to the top fairly quickly, and unclipped from the rope so Vince, David, and finally Thelma could make the ascent.

There’d be no going back now without plunging over the side of a cliff. My pulse raced once again at the realization, but I still didn’t have to worry about it quite yet because we still hadn’t reached the turn around point. We climbed higher through the cave, and I knew that every new obstacle we summited would become another jump on the way down.

Eventually the passageway narrowed. We climbed one last waterfall, and then it was time to start our descent back the way we came. Gravity would be doing most of the work for us now, starting with a thrilling jump from the top of the last waterfall we’d climbed. This one wasn’t too tall, but we had to make sure to hit the right spot when we landed because parts of the pool beneath it weren’t very deep.

I took the plunge easily and felt invigorated. Maybe jumping wasn’t so bad after all. I assured myself that I could do this. It wouldn’t even be the tallest jump I’d ever done.

A handful of small jumps and couple of down climbs later, we were already back on top of the biggest waterfall. Everything up to this point had been easy, but bringing myself the step off that ledge would surely be the biggest challenge I would face that day. Jumping off of things tends to be the most sure-fire way to give myself a real scare ever since I had a bad climbing accident a few years ago. I’ve finally gotten to a point where it can be fun despite the fear, but that doesn’t stop the anticipation from destroying my nerves.

Vince went first, clipping into the rope to down climb a few feet until he reached a good jumping platform. Then he unclipped and disappeared over the edge, his splash rising into view a split second later.

I decided to go next just so I could get the anticipatory torture over with. My hands and legs shook as I clipped onto the rope and made the short down climb. As I stood on the platform I suddenly developed tunnel vision. I was going to jump off of this waterfall, and I was going to do it before I had the chance to think about it any longer. Thelma cheered me on as I took a determined leap off of the ledge. My feet dangled in thin air for a moment, and then I broke the surface of the cool water, sinking down to the bottom of the pool before my life vest took over and rocketed me back to the surface. When my face broke free of the water, I let out an excited “Whoo!” as a wave of adrenaline washed over me.

Bonnie, David, Thelma, and Junior all made the jump in turn, and we all cheered each other on. Once we’d regrouped at the bottom, I noticed Junior slip away to run ahead once again. The rest of us trailed behind more slowly, which was fine by me because I was still shaking from my adrenaline rush. We swam down the river until we reemerged through the flowstone passage into the main branch of the cave.

A few minutes later, we were back at the spot where we’d left our bags, and there was another surprise waiting for us. Junior had laid a white tablecloth out across a large, flat stone, and lit a candelabra. He was now cutting vegetables and laying them out on the makeshift table which held all of the ingredients to make wrap sandwiches.

Once all of the food was ready, we turned off our lights and ate only by the candle light. Food always tastes amazing after you’ve been on an outdoor adventure, and this was no exception. This was such a unique addition to the tour that really set it apart and made the whole experience even more amazing. After all, how often does one get to enjoy a candlelit meal deep underground in a beautiful cave?

After lunch we hiked back to the entrance of the cave, then rode in the truck all the way back to the lodge. We said our goodbyes to Thelma and Junior, thanking them for guiding us on such an amazing tour. Then we were on our own again, and in need of some way to spend the rest of the day.

Lucky for us, we’d noticed an advertisement for chocolate and ice cream on our drive to Caves Branch that morning, so we decided to go grab a snack. When we walked into Lamanai Chocolate Company, we were immediately greeted with chocolate samples. I don’t just mean a couple of chocolate samples. Lamanai’s owner gave us a sample of every single kind of homemade chocolate they make, all while explaining different health benefits of each flavor. 

After finishing all the chocolate samples, and a couple of drink samples, the owner led us onto the property to see a family of howler monkeys that were jumping around in the trees, and show us some of Lamanai’s beautiful and useful tropical plants. Eventually we got down to the business of actually ordering some of Lamanai’s hand made ice cream.  I started with peanut butter, but it was so good that I doubled down and ordered an affogato too.

There was even an adorable cat hanging around, which was great because by this point in the trip, I was really starting to miss me and Vince’s cat, Catness.

Our stop at Lamanai ended up taking much longer than we’d imagined, which was perfect since we didn’t have much else to do anyway. After paying for our ice cream, we had just enough daylight left to visit the nearby St. Herman’s Blue Hole National Park, which is famous for a freshwater swimming hole called the Inland Blue Hole.

Tickets to the park only cost a few dollars, and soon we were back in the forest, hiking downhill until we reached the blue hole.

I have to admit, the Inland Blue Hole was rather less exciting than the Great Blue Hole which we’d dived in the previous week. True to its name, its water was a milky blue shade, and it was indeed, a hole. It was pretty, but not awe-inspiring like the fathomless sinkhole out in the middle of the ocean. But it was blazing hot outside, so we were all happy to jump into the refreshing pool and enjoy a peaceful swim.

Little fish that were nearly the same color as the water swam around us, and I floated on my back, looking up at a craggy wall that was covered in leafy foliage.

When we got bored of floating, we followed a shallow creek that stemmed from the blue hole, until it dead-ended at the mouth of a small cave. We swam through the opening and floated in near total darkness, with bats occasionally swooping overhead.

We emerged from the cave right around the park’s closing time, to realize that sporadic drops of rain were beginning to fall from the sky. By the time we’d hiked back up to the parking lot, it was down-pouring in the first heavy rain we’d experienced during our time in Belize. Soaking wet, we piled into the Jeep, doing our best to lay down towels. Rain pattered on the windshield as we made the drive back to the Mariposa Jungle Lodge while discussing a tentative plan for the next day. It would be a self-guided day and there were seemingly endless options of things we could do. By the time we reached the hotel, we’d come to an agreement. We ended the day thoroughly pleased with our amazing cave tour, and excited for more jungle exploration the next morning.