So, In a daring attempt to remain "cool" post-college, I have decided to pursue a wide array of outdoor activities that includes caving. My good friend, Ben, being an outdoor enthusiast himself, has helped to spur on this desire and bring me to action. We complement each other well. He brings a lot of knowledge and enthusiasm to the table while I bring a little more enthusiasm. Being the true outdoorsmen that we are, our pursuit started with the purchase of some safety gear (helmets, lights, etc). After we got the look, we decided to make a trip.
The New River Cave parallels the mighty river that gives the cave its name. Since neither Ben or myself had set foot in this hole, we used only friend's accounts to locate its opening. This proved to be a much harder task than one might think. Our adventure began with a trip into the mountains, looking for a small opening. We headed up the hillside, only to be fooled by false memories. Regretfully, we headed back down to the car, in search of a needle in a haystack. After a few minutes of recollection, and "figuring" we headed back into the woods; this time with much greater success. The cave had been found.
The entrance wasn't what I had expected. No bats, no rodents, but a lot of slick mud. We tightened our helmets, checked our lights and headed in. Lots of climbing, sliding, and crawling. Not knowing the layout of the cave, we set a 3 hour time limit and headed in.
If you have never been in a cave, or a mine, you can't imagine how dark a place like this is. It envelopes you, chasing the edges of your lamp with every movement. As we pressed on, you must look back to see what your leaving. The trip out can look a lot different than the trip in. We made mental notes of rooms and hallways, each reminding us of a point in this small we have passed.
The trip was great. The environment is unlike any other and the experience will be forever memorable. This could be the start of a new love.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
From mineral mining to drug pedaling...
I recently made the "career" switch from coal miner to pharmacy technician, and change is everywhere. Before the move, my days consisted of taking a 5 minute elevator ride straight down 2000ft, where the earth was pillaged for her minerals and a strong back was held in high regard to lesser men. Work consisted of crawling, climbing, cussing, spitting, and grunting. It was dirty work, but I am a far better person for submitting myself to the art of natural resource extraction.
Now, I am far more concerned about what the generic name for Xanax is as opposed to how deep a mining section has driven into a new panel. Nonetheless, I find many similarities between the work fields beyond the obvious, myself.
People still want more out of you. They may smile and laugh, but you know your just one "sorry, but I can't help you" away from being put on the list (you know the list I speak of). Bosses are still looking for more profit and less cost and it never fails that I want to prop my feet up at the end of the day and tell Melody amusing stories about my experiences. Regardless, I see that I can never escape the world of people. Jobs come and go but people are everywhere.
The other day, I picked up a hitch-hiker (sorry mom, and all other people who believe that Texas Chainsaw Massacre will repeat) named Mickey and drove him down a little ways on the interstate. He told me about how he had squandered his father's inheritance on gambling, booze and women and how he couldn't live with the fact that his father's legacy was gone. I proceeded to tell him about the prodigal son and how God still loved him, but he was really caught up about how his father would be mad if he were still around. I found a soft spot in my heart for Mickey and I hope that he can find a soft spot for himself. I told him that God was already over his mistakes and was ready for him to come home. It was a good chat. I don't normally do things like that. I am overly concerned with making people comfortable, so I let my opinions slide a little. I, along with Mickey, am still in the process of learning about God's great fore site and forgetful hindsight. But, I digress. I ramble on with this first post to say that people need people and God likes us all. From coal miners to drug addicts old men and young women, better treat 'em nice, because you never know who feet you might wash one day.
I titled my blog "Adventures of a Small Timer" because I am no one special. Just a guy trying to love his wife, make a living, and keep my head above water. To me, the problems all seem like mountains, the tragedies run deep like canyons, and I am trying to fly with clipped wings, but still, it is all so adventurous.
Now, I am far more concerned about what the generic name for Xanax is as opposed to how deep a mining section has driven into a new panel. Nonetheless, I find many similarities between the work fields beyond the obvious, myself.
People still want more out of you. They may smile and laugh, but you know your just one "sorry, but I can't help you" away from being put on the list (you know the list I speak of). Bosses are still looking for more profit and less cost and it never fails that I want to prop my feet up at the end of the day and tell Melody amusing stories about my experiences. Regardless, I see that I can never escape the world of people. Jobs come and go but people are everywhere.
The other day, I picked up a hitch-hiker (sorry mom, and all other people who believe that Texas Chainsaw Massacre will repeat) named Mickey and drove him down a little ways on the interstate. He told me about how he had squandered his father's inheritance on gambling, booze and women and how he couldn't live with the fact that his father's legacy was gone. I proceeded to tell him about the prodigal son and how God still loved him, but he was really caught up about how his father would be mad if he were still around. I found a soft spot in my heart for Mickey and I hope that he can find a soft spot for himself. I told him that God was already over his mistakes and was ready for him to come home. It was a good chat. I don't normally do things like that. I am overly concerned with making people comfortable, so I let my opinions slide a little. I, along with Mickey, am still in the process of learning about God's great fore site and forgetful hindsight. But, I digress. I ramble on with this first post to say that people need people and God likes us all. From coal miners to drug addicts old men and young women, better treat 'em nice, because you never know who feet you might wash one day.
I titled my blog "Adventures of a Small Timer" because I am no one special. Just a guy trying to love his wife, make a living, and keep my head above water. To me, the problems all seem like mountains, the tragedies run deep like canyons, and I am trying to fly with clipped wings, but still, it is all so adventurous.
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