Trip Report

La Brecha and La Huasteca
November 17, 2000 - November 26, 2000

by Chris Nicola

Crew: Jay Jordon, Chris Nicola, Dale Barnard, and Jerry Fant's gang


Pre-Trip Day- Friday - 11/17/00

I arrived at Dallas airport around noon and was promptly met by Sheila Jorden, accompanied by little 11 month old Liam. While I have known Sheila and her husband Jay for some time now, having caved with each in both the US and the Former Soviet Union, this was my first meeting with Liam. A short time later we split up at a local mall in order to do some shopping. My priorities, with the realization now sinking in that I had just landed in a place even colder than the Big Apple, was to find a Sears in order to buy all the winter clothing that I had decided to leave behind in New York City at the last minute. A couple of hours later I met up with Sheila and Liam, and we drove to their place a short distance outside of Dallas, where I would catch up on a little sleep while awaiting Jay's return from Washington, DC later that night.

Day 1 - Saturday - 11/18/00

Jay arrived back at his house around 2:30 AM Saturday morning, and within two hours, during which time he unpacked and repacked, he had gone from inter-city Journalist to Mexico-bound caver mode. By 4:30 AM we were on our way in Jay's car to Dale Barnard's place just outside of Austin.

Around two hours into the drive, and approximately half way between Dallas and Austin we stopped at the "Chezk Stop" (Exit 353 off of 35 East), an interesting little cafe that sold all sorts of Polish pastries. Taking advantage of the cafe's restrooms, and then making our purchases of coffee and pastries, we left the store. Upon returning to the car I took over behind the wheel. A short distance down the road it began to rain - it would rain for the next five days!

We arrived at Dale's sometime around 8:45 AM. While Jay had met Dale previously, this was our first meeting, although we had been in email communications with one another in preparation for this particular trip. Very little time was wasted in moving our equipment from Jay's car into Dale's Nissan pickup truck, making sure that adequate room was left for one of us to ride in the back while the other two rode up front. Sleeping bags and thermarest mattresses soon made for a comfortable spot in the back, equipped with a walkie-talkie for communications with the driver, and plenty of food and beverages in easy reach.

As we continued to pack the truck Dale explained that we were awaiting a call from Paul Fambro and Terri Whitfield in order to get the status of their plan to stop off in San Antonio in order to purchase car insurance for coverage in Mexico, and then to work out the details of rendezvousing with the both of them. The call came about a half-hour later, just after Dale had given us a tour of his place and surrounding property. So, the three of us took off in the Nissan to go meet Paul and Terri, and then begin our convoy southwards.

We meet up with Paul and Terri about 15 minutes later at a nearby gas station. After introducing ourselves to one another, and making a quick stop for some take-out coffee and munchies, we headed out for the US-Mexico border. Having already heard of the condition of some of the roads to come, I freely offered to take the first shift in the back of the truck, while we were still riding on leveled paved highway. It wasn't long afterwards, somewhat chilled, that I looked out at the rain soaked highway and asked myself if I wasn't really just going caving somewhere in the Northeastern US as opposed to being in Texas driving toward Mexico - It was still raining and the sun was invisible!

After stopping for a late lunch in Three Rivers we went grocery/supply shopping, and then proceeded to cross the Rio Grande via the Pharr Bridge at Reynosa in the early evening. We were now in Mexico and had to stop in order to secure our visas, and the necessary vehicle permits. In a relatively short period of time we all secured six-month visas for a $20 fee. Now I waited with Terri and Jay as Dale and Paul went off with some officers in order to take care of their vehicles. From what all these border crossing veterans told me later, we were very lucky in that we did not hit a lot of traffic, and the border entering process went relatively fast.

Finding our way to Route 97 we headed out towards Victoria. Our plan was to eventually camp out for the night at the Rio Corona, just outside of Victoria off of Route 101. However, first we were going to have to stop somewhere in order to have dinner. In San Fernando we found a very nice place to have dinner for only about 80 pesos (exchange rate of aprx. 9 to 10 pesos per 1 USD) for each of us. We also had some unexpected entertainment upon leaving the restaurant.

As we stood in the restaurant parking lot a strange overhead crackling noise caught all of our attention. Looking immediately above where we were standing we noticed sparks emanating from an exposed electrical cable that ran from the restaurant into a main power line, and which was dangling over our heads. It was at this point we all decided to leave the area.

As we pulled out of the parking lot we noticed several police cars, with flashing red lights, moving at a slow rate of speed in the same direction we were going. Then before we knew it, we had become part of a parade lead by three runners who were passing a lit touch back and forward while being escorted by several police cars, and local well wishers on foot. Continuing at walking speed we all commented that we hoped that we would not be in this parade all the way to the Rio Corona. Luckily enough the parade took a sharp left a few 100 yards down the road, and we were able to once again pick up our pace. We never did figure out the significance of the parade or the touch caring runners, but it may have had something to do with the fact that this particular weekend was a national holiday of some sort.

We arrived at the Rio Corona rather late in the night. As we pulled off of Route 101 onto the service road leading down to the river we discovered that a lot of road/bridge construction had recently taken place in the area. Because of the way the ground had been torn up from the construction it became quite a challenge to find any level sections of ground anywhere. At one point we thought we had the perfect spot, but then we noticed that several tents were already occupying the area. However, after exploring the area a little longer we eventually found a place where Jay and I were able to pitch a tent, as the others parked their trucks and settled down for the night.

Day 2 - Sunday - 11/19/00

Upon arising the next morning we discovered that the tents we sighted the night before belonged to cavers Ted Wilson, Chris Shotter, Jim Smith and Leo Romanoski. Interestingly enough, I had last run into Chris, as well as Leo's roommate, just two months before when I was leading a group of visiting British cavers into Georgia's Ellisons cave in order to do Fantastic Pit. After arranging with one another to meet down the road for breakfast we broke camp, left Ted and his friends, and drove into Victoria.

We were only in the Café Canton a short time when Ted and the others entered and sat down at a neighboring table. The breakfast here was pretty good, and only cost about 30 pesos for each of us. It was during the meal that someone at our table mentioned that many of the restaurants will serve you limes so that you can pour their juice over the lettuce, as well as other garnishings, in order to kill any bacteria which might lead to a case of Montezuma's Revenge.

After breakfast the five of us said good bye to Ted and his friends, who were also Aquismon- bound, and went to a local supermarket where we did some shopping in preparation for the camping we planned to do over the next five days. Jay and I ended up spending about 300 pesos between the both of us. Needless to say, the prices down here were much cheaper than back in the States.

Leaving Victoria we made our way to 85, the Inter-Continental Highway, and headed towards Valles where we were going to stop for lunch. In Valles we ate at the Fiestipan Pasteleria for about 50 pesos apiece. By comparison to the other places we had eaten at, this particular place was rather upscale and a little more expensive.

With Dale now in the back, and me now driving, Jay, recalling that this was my first visit to Mexico, now gave me some valuable advice about driving here. He told me that whenever you drive, you have to keep in mind that due to the nature of the construction of the roads, you seldom get a second chance if you leave the roadbed and move off of the shoulder. In fact, you usually end up flipping the vehicle over. Now, looking at the roads a little closer than before, I could see that the roads were probably repaired/maintained in most cases by simply pouring new layer of asphalt over the previous layer, without doing any manicuring of the shoulder in the process. As a result, there is a drastic elevation change where the roadbed meets the dirt shoulder. Consequently, it is difficult to bring the tires back onto the roadbed at a high rate of speed.

In addition, to the unique shoulders of the roads, there were two other oddities that soon caught my attention while driving. The first was the "invisible middle lane". Although the lanes of the roads we were using were of adequate width, the shoulders were less than half a car width wide. While in the US this normally would not pose a problem, in Mexico it works a little different with a one-lane highway. Here, you pass by pulling out into head-on traffic with the knowledge (or rather hope) that the person coming directly at you knows to pull half of his car to the right over the half-car width shoulder. This works in both daylight and in the dark, on straight-aways and blind turns, and at any speed.

The second road design oddity was discovered while approaching the Rio Tampaon when I was looking at an unusual road sign as I followed close behind a truck which served to block my view up ahead. Before I knew it I was on a bridge, which in itself wasn't that surprising given the fact that I was able to clearly pick out a the drawing of a bridge the road sign just passed. It was shortly afterwards, while still pondering the significance of a single truck on the same road sign, that the truck in front of me veered sharply to the right at the end of the bridge, thereby finally clearing my field of vision, that I put it all together. I was now moving at 60 miles an hour looking straight ahead at a truck coming directly at me. The sign meant "Warning One Lane Bridge-Traffic In Both Directions!"

In Aquismon we met up with Mike Walsh who is writing a book on about the Caves in the Aquismon area. It was here that we met some of the others of our La Brecha-bound group: Jessica Snider, Tasuku Koni, Robin Barber, and Eddie Yonemoto. We also ran into Ted and his friends once again. As for Ed Goff, Jerry Fant and Pam Tanino, they had already left for the Huastecan village of La Brecha, via way of the "new road", in order to set up camp, and then return to pickup Jessica, Eddie, "Koni" and Robin.

Mike explained that there was some concern that Jerry's truck would not be able to make it up to La Brecha via way of the new road because of its steep inclines, combined with its mud soaked dirt roadbed. So, the likelyhood existed that Jerry's truck might get stuck, in which case Ed's would be available for an assist. Of course, somewhere along the way Dale, Jay, Paul, Terri and I would have to decide as to whether we would chance the new road, which should get us to La Brecha in under one and an half hours, or the old road, running in a southeasterly route from Aquismon before turning back north and passing Golindinas, which should get us there in four to five hours. It was still raining, and the Sun was still hiding !!

After Mike gave us a tour of the town, he, Jay and I went to have dinner in one of the local restaurants surrounding the town square. It was while we were having our meal that Jerry and Ed Goff came in to advise us of their return and explain that they had left Pam at La Brecha, would be leaving Jerry's truck in Aquismon (it apparently had some difficulty navigating the new road), and would be leaving shortly for La Brecha with Eddie, Koni, Jessica and Robin. Jay and I then turned our attention to where we would be spending the night, for in light of what we had just heard from Ed and Jerry, it appeared that we were not going to be able to take the new road, and it was already 9 PM. So, Jay and I, accompanied by Mike who had offered his assistance in getting us a room at one of the town's two hotels, took off to find Dale, Paul and Terri in order to discuss our evening's itinerary.

In the center of the town square was a nice little bar/café where we found Paul and Terri, along with visiting Swedish hiker Erland Nisson. Erland, who proved to be a very likable and knowledgeable individual, was in the process of hiking throughout Mexico before returning to his home in Lund, Sweden. After a few drinks, and some interesting conversation with our new Swedish friend, Paul, Jay, Terri and I followed Mike to a nearby hotel in order make arrangements to stay the night. Meanwhile, Dale and Erland headed out to set up camp at a nearby soccer field.

At the Hotel Manssion, thanks in part to Mike's negotiating with the owner on our behalf, Jay and I got one room, and Paul and Terri got another at the charge of 15 dollars a piece. A short time later, after getting settled into our room, Jay and I, along with Mike, walked down the street to a nearby pub where we spent the next hour or so drinking and conversing with a waitress friend of Mike's, who came to be known simply as the "Redhead" during the remainder of our trip. It was shortly after honoring the "Redhead's" request for us to take a picture of her with Mike that Jay and I said good bye to them both and headed back to our hotel for the night.

Day 3 - Monday - 11/20/00

At around 2 AM I awoke to the sounds of some sort of animal which was squealing loudly, as if it had found the owner's pet Cute-Mondi" (sp?), a sort of ferret. Then at 5 AM I woke up to a discussion being carried on immediately outside our window at the reception desk. But, apart from these disturbances the room was decent with cold/hot water, an adequate shower, bathroom and color TV.

Getting up around 8 AM the four of us headed up to the town square where we meet Mike, Dale and Erland for breakfast at around 15 pesos a piece. We soon learned that Dale and Erland never made it to the soccer field the previous night, but instead stayed at some sort of locally maintained community center. This center was set up for the purpose of providing lodging for those coming to the town's market , who subsequently might need a place for the evening either due to either inclement weather, or the lateness of the hour. Dale went on to explain that upon making an inquiry to a friendly police officer the previous night about staying at the soccer field, they were advised, in the interest of their safety and security, to stay at the center instead.

After breakfast all of us stepped outside to watch a parade and take some photographs. From what little Spanish I know, I believe this parade had something to do with an event that took place in 1846 (possibly in connection with when US troops invaded Mexico). Whatever the purpose of the parade, it was confirmed that today was a national holiday.

Saying good bye to Erland and wishing him luck on the remainder of his hiking expedition, the five of us followed Mike up a nearby ridge in order to search for four caves which had been reported to him by the locals. We spent the next four or five hours looking for a way over the ridge to where the caves were reportedly located. Although we never did find these caves, we were successful in finding the "ugly stairs" which one of the local natives had advised Dale would lead to a trail going over the ridge top. However, rather than ugly stairs we found a series of very ugly wooden ladders, held together by vines, overlooking a 60 plus foot shear drop.

The walk up the mountain had proved to be a bit of a challenge for the guy from the Northeast (i.e. me) who dressed as if he was hiking in Maine rather than Central Mexico, but it did result in probably one of the funniest lines of the entire trip. [Mike to Terri] "When I was your age, I used to run up these hills!" [Chris to Mike] " When you were our age, these hills were flat! " All of us, including Mike, got a good laugh out of this one.

Watching Dale climb the ladders and then disappear over the ridge top, the rest of us got comfortable, had a small meal/beverage break, and awaited his return and report. Although it was overcast, the scenery still proved to be rather spectacular from this height, overlooking Aquismon. Eventually Terri also climbed the ladders and spent a little time up top before returning to wait with us for Dale.

Approximately 45 minutes later Dale returned to report that no caves were found. We then headed back down the mountain towards Aquismon to have a meal before heading out for La Brecha via Nacimiento Canja Cave. Mike mentioned that he would double check with some locals to ascertain if we were on the correct paths to the sought after caves.

After lunch, at a cost of about 25 pesos a piece, Mike jumped into Paul's truck with Terri, and the six of us drove to Nacimiento Canja Cave. The plan was for Paul, Jay, Dale and I to visit the cave while Mike gave Terri, who had visited the cave over the Christmas holidays, some directions on where we were going to camp for the evening after we dropped Mike off to catch a bus back to the States. Finding our path blocked by thigh deep water, and cognizant of the lateness of the day, the trip in the cave turned out to be a relatively short one, with the three of us opting to assist Dale in taking some photos as opposed to doing any further exploration.

Dropping Mike off for his bus, we exchanged good byes and then drove a short distance further to set up camp alongside of Cueva del Nacimiento del Rio Huichihuayan. While Jay and I were setting up our tents Ted Wilson and his three friends showed up, and also set up camp. After working on my carbide for a little while, eating some munchies, and drinking a little rum Jay and I ended up being the last ones to turn in for the night.

Day 4 - Tuesday - 11/21/00

Breaking camp the five of us headed out towards La Brecha, planing to stop by Golindrinas on the way. It was sometime in the afternoon that we arrived at Golindrinas where Jay ran into an old friend of his, Earl Handcock of Missouri. Earl was there with his son Jim, Ron Jones of Virginia, and several other cavers who were in the process of dropping the pit when we walked up on them.

Earl and the others in the group were nice enough to offer to let me join them on the drop, and then drive me to La Brecha later in order to catch up with our group. Unfortunately, nobody in our group had previously been to La Brecha, and consequently could not give Jim and his crew directions to where they would be camped. In addition, I believe that I would have been taking Jim and his crew significantly out of the way in proceeding to their planed destination, the "Birdhouse". So, I thanked Jim and the others for their thoughtful and gracious offer, exchanged email addresses, took some photos, and then returned with Paul, Jay, Terri and Dale to our vehicles, which were parked alongside a taco stand about 10 minutes away.

In order to save time, and avoid looking for a place to stop for lunch later, we all took advantage of the taco stand and enjoyed the local cuisine. We spent the next hour enjoying some delicious food, while having some rather interesting and informative discussions with Jim Handcock about the archeology of the surrounding area and other places in Mexico.

We arrived at La Brecha, San Luis Potosi (population 188, familes 43) in the early evening, and soon met up with Jerry, Ed and the rest of their crew in the parking lot of the village's church, alongside of their new church which was still under construction. We were then introduced to the town's mayor, Eusebio Perez and his son, Carlos. They both immediately made us feel welcomed as friends.

Later, as we were pitching our tents at a site about a 10 minute walk down the road, Paul warned me about the Mala- Mujer plants in vicinity of campsite. He pointed out several of them, noting that they can have three to five leaves, and can secret flesh-eating acid upon rubbing against either their leaves or stalks. Paul then showed me where the plant had attacked him while setting up camp. Several hours later we all settled down for the night. It was still raining and the Sun was now just a forgotten memory !!!

Day 5 - Wednesday - 11/22/00

Terri, Paul, Dale, Jay and I followed Mr. Perez up a nearby hill to a virgin cave; subsequently given the Huastecan name of Sotano Cerca de Talabja (Tag # 3, "Pit Near the Spring"), which as the name implies, has an entrance pit. As if surveying and exploring a virgin cave was not enough of a thrill, my colleagues were nice enough to let me the first to drop into the entrance. I was definitely on an adrenaline high as I dropped the pit entrance of unknown dimensions and depth. This is something that you simply do not get to do too often in the Northeastern US.

The pit soon opened up when I got about 12 feet into the cave. I could see a ledge (actually an intermediate level) almost directly below me which, judging by the rope weight, was less than 150 feet away. Beyond this ledge's edge the pit continued downward into a black void of unknown depth. As for the diameter of the pit, it appeared to well in excess of 70 feet. As eager as I was though to continue the rappel, I had to restrain myself long enough to first pick out a survey station visible both from where Paul was at the surface entrance and a spot below me on the ledge. I then pulled the survey tape to this same station so that Paul could record the first distance measurement of the survey. But once this was done, I was gone!

I intercepted the next level right at the edge of a declined floor. Consequently, I found myself having to do a little bit of a pendulum as I walked uphill lightly upon numerous lose rocks in order to get to a safe spot against a wall where I could get off rope. Once I had secure footing, I got off rope, and sought out a anchor point for a rebelay; all the time holding onto the rope so as not to end up in the unfortunate predicament of having the rope fall out of my reach. A nearby column proved to be an excellent anchor point. I now looked upwards, yelled "OFF ROPE", and judged to distance of my rappel to have been about 115 feet.

Ensuring that the rope would not fall out of anyone's reach was not the only reason I chose to set up a rebelay. The orientation of the surface entrance to the pit was such that any torrential downpour would result in water coming down over the rope if not diverted. In the event of any out of control rappel, the maximum attainable vertical speed, as well as fall distance, would be significantly mitigated by the introduction of a horizontal component through a deviation. By now having the rope placed uphill of the floor edge, there would be less likelihood of anyone knocking rocks down to the next level. As a group we would move faster between levels due to both the ability of two individuals to climb simultaneously (i.e. one on the upper, and one on the lower rope segment), and the elimination of the necessity to navigate up and down the inclined floor upon numerous lose rocks. The rope weight would be lessened for the next drop (remember, not knowing either the depth of the next drop(s) and/or layout, the splicing-in of additional ropes was still a possibility). Finally, self-starting on an ascent is quicker, as well as less problematic, when you are able to simply drape a leg over the rope as a means of loading it from below.

Because of the aforementioned lose rocks, none of us proceeded to the next level, now determined to be approximately 50 feet below, until everyone had descended to this intermediary level. Once everyone had descended, the survey progressed down to the next level. In the interim however, I and Terri took turns exploring a narrow lead off of a short passage leading out of the fall zone, and beyond the above mentioned column used as an anchor point. I then laid down and enjoyed the dry, warm surroundings. On the surface it was overcast, as if it could rain at any moment. From a Northeasterner's perspective, it was a pleasure to survey this sort of cave - or to just lay down and relax. Given all the recent rainy weather, this was the first time in five days that I did not feel like a mold in a pietri-dish!

Paul and Dale subsequently described this cave as follows: The entrance is near the base of a hill. It is in a small sink area with a horizontal entrance heading down at about a 30-degree angle. The mouth is under a small bluff measuring 4 meters wide and 1.5 meters tall. You can throw a rock into the open space of the pit while standing outside, but the pit is offset from the entrance by 3 meters. The pit opens up to 10 meters by 5 meters with a lot of formation growth. The possibility of hidden passage obscured by formations seems slim, but possible. After a 33 meter drop there is a sloped floor that leads down at 30 degrees to another drop of 15 meters. At the intermediate level, a side passage leads about 5 meters to muddy dead-end. At the bottom, the cave ends with rock and mud, but no obvious direction for water flow. The cave has a length of 58.37 meters and depth of 48.37 meters.

Apart from one particular event back at camp that evening, the remainder of the day proved to be rather mellow and uneventful - though quite relaxing, even though It Was Still Raining! While Dale, Jay, Terri and Paul prepared something to eat, I decided to work on my experimental Italian Generator Ukrainian Auto Light Carbide System not only so that we could have a powerful source of light for the remainder of the evening, but also in preparation of its use on the next day's cave trip.

One of the problems I had been encountering with this lamp-system during its development has been the excessive pressure it generates; pressure so great that it tends to blow out its own flame. Anyway, in the act of dealing with a lit gas leak at the connection between the helmet mounted lamp unit and the hose leading to the generator, the hose detached itself. As a result, I was left with something similar to a military style FLAME THROWER which was snaking itself in every which direction through the air. The rocket size flame shooting out of the end of the hose could neither be captured in flight, nor put out --- no matter how many dozen feet frantically tried to stump on it at the same time. It was only when Paul dumped several gallons of water over it that the flame extinguished itself- saving half the territory of San Luis Potosi, the entire Free World, and quite possibly all of MANKIND! Thank God IT WAS STILL RAINING, so that there was nothing dry in the area witch could have caught fire !!

Day 6 - Thursday - 11/23/00

Today, I began a morning ritual which would continue for the remainder of our stay at La Brecha; I listened to my short-wave radio in order not only keep abreast of what was going on in the outside world, but also of who would be our president in 2001 (there was currently a controversy over the casting of votes in Florida which was serving to delay confirmation of who won the presidential election). Nothing had changed since my departure from the Big Apple five days ago; the Nation still did not know who would be President- and IT WAS STILL RAINING and that bright thing which used to be in the sky apparently has ceased to exist !!!

While Jay began taking down his tent in preparation for him, Jessica and Koni to head back to the States ahead of the rest of us, the zipper on my tent broke. As luck would have it, Jay then offered to let me hold on to his tent (actually it was Sheila's - which explains why Jay made me promise not to hold any wild parties in the tent upon his departure). Then after a quick breakfast, Jay, Koni and Jessica took off with Ed and Jerry for Aquismon. Although I would have liked Jay, as well as Jessica and Koni of course, to have been able to stay longer, I was glad in knowing that Jay would at least get to share in a part of his son's first Thanksgiving holiday (of course, I was also glad for the opportunity to now be able to hold wild nightly parties in my new "digs") .

After Eddie, Pam and Jessica took off for the cave they were going to do this day, Paul, Terri, Dale and I went up the road from the village looking for Carlos who was going to act as our guide. However, we did not find Carlos at first, so we spend a little time chatting with a couple of local youngsters siting on the side of the road, who, judging by the presence of the machetes in their hands, were apparently working in the nearby field and had decided to take a break. In actuality, it was Dale, who speaks fluent Spanish, and these two youngsters who were doing all the chatting. I on the other hand, admiring Dale's mastery of Spanish, just rested in the shade and struggled to make sense of their conversation with the limited Spanish that I know. It was only a mater of about 15 or 20 minutes later, after confirming that the two local kids had not seen Carlos, his father, or our fellow cavers, that we decided to simply walk back down to the village and wait for Carlos' or his father's return.

"Mr. Perez", which is how the Mayor came to be known, appeared in a relatively short time once we arrived back at the church's parking lot. All of us, including three teenage boys who were accompanying Mr. Perez, then followed Mr. Perez out of town, back towards our camp, and then up through a cornfield, before heading up and over a nearby ridge. As usual I was the last one in line climbing up the path, covered in sweat - IT HAD STOPPED RAINING, and the Sun was now attempting to come out- Just my luck !!!

Mr. Perez was taking us to a horizontal cave (although we found out later that it did have a short 12 foot drop at the back just before a climb up into an infeeder) which the local the villagers used up until the 80's in order to get water. He was also going to assist us in exploring the potential of several sinks adjacent to this same cave.

Once at the cave, Paul and Dale got their survey equipment ready, and prepared to go down into the entrance alongside an old log ladder leading into a 7 or 8 foot wide open down climb. Terri and I then followed Mr. Perez to two nearby sinks to look for additional caves.

At the first sink Perez climbed down while Terri and I waited above, and then proceeded through the foliage towards a wall on the opposite side, using his machete to bushwhack as he went. A short time later, he called back to us saying that a rope was recommended if we intended to follow him down into the sink (at least that is the way we translated what he said). So, Terri and I then returned to the cave entrance, retrieved my 30-foot hand line, along with the three tanagers, who could act as translators if needed, and then returned back to the sink. Once at the sink we tied the hand line to a nearby tree, and dropped the other end down into the sink for Mr. Perez's use upon his return from the other side of the sink.

Leaving the teenagers at the sink to assist Mr. Perez if needed, Terri and I then walked over to the other sink in the area, and began searching for caves. The foliage in this area was not only extremely thick but also served to hide several surprises, to include 20-foot high Mala-Mujer plants. It was as Terri and I were using a machete to bushwhack our way towards a wall, with visible solution pockets at the upper levels, that I heard a rather unique sound in the air. I then asked Terri if I was hearing what I thought I was hearing; to which she responded "Yes, there are African Killer Bees in the area". A short time later, Terri and I decided that it would require too much time for the two of us alone, with only one machete, to adequately complete our search. Consequently, we soon turned around and headed back to where we had left Dale and Paul.

On the way back to the cave we meet up with the three kids and Mr. Perez, who had retrieved my hand line. Mr. Perez then advised us that he did not find anything of significance in the sink he had just finished exploring.

Back at the cave entrance Perez and Dale came up with a very appropriate name for this cave; Cueva del-Aqua (later tagged as no. 16). The four of us then said good bye to Mr. Perez and the kids, and entered the cave to begin our survey.

Because of the large wide-open passages, in combination with high ceilings, the survey went relatively easy. The first chamber, which was only a short distance from the entrance area, had an inclined floor of breakdown, measured in excess of 50 feet across, and lead down to a mud flat, which judging by the presence of pottery pieces, was one of the places the locals used collect drinking water. The passage, now slightly smaller in width and with a level floor of breakdown, continues at about a 90 degrees angle in a fairly straight manner in excess of about 60 feet before turning sharply (station # 6) down to the right into a very large passageway with a rather steep downward incline.

Noting some possible leads located in excess of 60 feet above and in front of us, along with possible climb up access to our right (near station # 7), we continued our survey downwards, stooping along the way in order to explore any possible side leads. At one point Paul made a valiant effort upward to explore a possible lead to the left of the main passage (near station # 8), however this particular lead was found too simply pinch off. Meanwhile Terri explored a short crawlway low and to the left of where Paul had climbed.

As we continued surveying downwards the passage narrowed as the ceiling lowered (with what appeared to be parallel passage running over the top of the main passage), but never to the point of hindering our progress. A short time later we came to a drop of about 12 to 15 feet, which lead to the base of a large dome. It was at this location we decided to discontinue the day's surveying, leaving an upclimb into an infeeder on the far wall of the dome for another day.

It was shortly before stopping the survey, that Mr. Perez showed up with the three kids and subsequently followed us out of the cave. While having his photo taken with the kids, Mr. Perez confirmed that to the best of his knowledge no other cavers had ever explored this particular cave, or the immediate area around La Brecha. He then reported that some of the footprints and pottery pieces that Paul found around a pond in the dome where probably those of the early settlers who came to the region in the 1920'3 and 30's. He then went on to say that local natives continued to get their drinking water from the cave up until the 80's when they began piping water into the village. Thus, some of the footprints could be of a more recent origin.

Upon exiting the cave we hurried to start our way back to the campsite before the Sun went down. A short time later we started our journey back down the mountain, through a field of Mala-Mujer, walking on over rocks and boulders, in the dark. We all expressed our gratitude to Mr. Perez for being there to lead us back to camp along a trail that we probably still would have had difficulty following in the dark, despite our flagging of the trail earlier.

Arriving back at camp around 7 PM we rushed to make dinner so that we could walk down to the village in time for Jerry's scheduled 8 PM slide show on the Chevy Project. Thank goodness for the overhead tarp we had set up earlier - it was once again beginning to rain, although very lightly.

Just as we were about to head down to the village, Dale told us that Mr. Perez had advised him that someone should probably stay behind in order to watch over the camp since a certain individual, who was known to take things when left unguarded, was seen in the village earlier in the day and may still be in the neighborhood. Although Robin had volunteered, I offered to take her place and watch the camp. So, as the others proceeded to the village I took up my position sitting in the middle of the camp, reading a book by gaslight.

Unfortunately, we had ten tents spread out over such a large area that it became difficult to see all the tents from any one spot. Consequently, I found it necessary every so often to get up and wonder around. This was especially the case on three or four occasions when I heard noises coming form the area of Ed's tent which was located on the extreme opposite side of our campsite. At one point, having failed to ascertain the source of the mysterious noises, I lit up another gas lamp and placed it closer towards Ed's tent on the opposite of the camp site. Then, upon sitting back down to read my book, I felt as if something was looking at me through the bushes. As I slowly turned around I saw two bright white eyes looking directly at me from behind bushes about 20 feet away! It was a "cringe" dog. This creature, along with several other dogs, had apparently been ruffling through our trash bags in the dark, moving from one side of the camp to the other whenever I changed my location in order to investigate.

When Terri and Eddie showed up to relieve me, I took off for the village in the hopes of catching part of the evening's festivities. However, a short distance down the road I met up with the entire crew walking back towards camp. I was then advised that the DC to AC converter was not powerful enough for the 300-watt projector bulb. But Jerry scrambled to find an alternative, and ended up shining a flashlight through the projector to view the slides dimly on the outer wall of the church. Although it did not go quite as planned, I'm sure that the dozens of locals who showed up were still very grateful anyway. We were all very glad that we were able to do something to show our thanks to the villagers of La Brecha.

Day 7 - Friday - 11/24/00

Being the first to awake, I proceeded with what had come to be a daily routine; I took my roll of TP, walked into the woods, found my special spot, made sure that I would not inadvertently moon a poisonous snake, "took care of business", and returned to the campsite to shave, brush my teeth, and turned on the short wave radio to find out who would be the next President of the United States. By this point in time, my morning rituals had seemed to have become rather routine, with nothing changing from day to day; I still didn't know who would be the US President in 2001, and I still could not see the Sun. But on this particular day there were two distinct changes; it had stopped raining and the US Republican vice-presidential candidate had been hospitalized with a heart attack.

Since we were planning on breaking camp before night fall, and then heading down to Aquismon for the night, we more than likely would not be around when the others returned to the campsite. So after breakfast, realizing that this would probably be the last time we would see the others in Mexico, the four of us got together with the other group to exchange good byes.

While Dale and I walked down to the village, Paul and Terri took off to go tag the pit we had surveyed earlier in the week. In the village I got some carbide, batteries and munchies out of Dale's truck, and the two of us, following a brief get together with Mr. Perez and some of the other locals Perez who were engaged in building the new church, returned to camp to meet up with Paul and Terri. When Paul and Terri returned, we all headed out for the cave we had visited yesterday in order to finish its survey.

Upon arriving at the entrance to Cueva del-Aqua the four of us decided to first explore the surface for possible other entrances to the cave. So, Terri and I lead Paul and Dale to the two sink holes which the both of us had briefly explored the day before; stopping first at the one which Mr. Perez had dropped into, and then at the one where Terry and I had found the 20 foot high Mala-Mujer plants and African Killer Bees.

At the first sink Dale climbed down into it while Paul, Terri and I sat down at the top, relaxing to the sound of the Killer Bees emanating from the other sink we were to visit. About thirty minutes later Dale returned saying that there was a small overhang, which might have some passage above a short upclimb, but it would require a little time (the implication being that we may just not have enough time today, given the other things we were planing). Opting to focus our attention on finishing the survey and continuing to look further for other surface entrances, we moved on to the next sink, leaving this spot (which has "Cave written all over it") for some other day.

At the next sink we split up into two groups, each with one machete, and began bushwhacking a path towards a large wall that bore visible solution pockets at its upper levels. It wasn't long before a Giant killer Mala-Mujer plant reached out and attacked Paul, who soon made short work of it with the aid of a machete. Nobody will ever have to worry about this particular plant again! A short time later someone put a machete in my hand, and told me to make sure that I covered my eyes as I bushwhacked through the foliage in order to make sure that no sap from a Mala-Mujer plant splashed back into my eyes. It was at this point that I said, "Let me get this right. Your giving a guy from New York City a machete, and telling him to cover his eyes as he proceeds?" The machete was immediately removed from my hand (probably a very wise move).

The foliage in this sink was very thick. Consequently, it was very slow going. Our progress was also somewhat compromised by our decision, in light of the bees nearby, to move cautiously, and only in that direction away from their sound. Unfortunately, the bees seemed to have been in control of the area with the most potential (i.e. the bulk of the exposed wall face). It was only a short time later that we decided to leave this sink, and head up for the area lying between both sinks, but in the opposite direction than the cave (i.e. we made a left instead of a right as we proceeded back towards the first sink).

It was just as Dale and Paul started climbing up an embankment that Terri, who was looking up into the sky back towards the sink, in the same direction as an ever increasing buzzing sound, yelled "They're up and swarming!" Now, there was probably some more dialog that took place between Dale, Paul and Terri, however I was no longer within earshot. I was already running down the trail leading back towards the cave entrance. This was the first, last and only time during the entire expedition that I was in the lead (lets not forget that I was the oldest member of the party).

Meeting up at the fork in the trail between the path leading to the cave and the path back down the mountain, I asked the question as to whether we would be better off, in the event the bees followed us over the ridge, going into the cave or running down the bolder/rock covered path, through a field of Mala-Mujer, back to the camp. Likely enough, it soon became obvious that the bees, having now made their point that they were ones in control of the nearby sink, had decided not to leave their sanctuary.

Deciding to continue mapping Cueva del-Aqua we entered the cave. However, prior to picking up the survey again, we looked to see if their was any way to get to some upper leads about one third into the cave (near station no. 7) right where the passage takes a sharp turn, and the floor begins a steep decline. Unfortunately, there was no way to safely climb, despite the enthusiastic and valiant attempts of both Dale and Paul. This climb will have to wait for another day.

We picked up yesterday's survey by dropping approximately 12 feet on rope, not even considering the use the rather archaic single log ladder which was apparently used by the early inhabitants of this region, to the dome's flat hard bottom. While Paul and Dale prepared for a flow stone upclimb into continuing passage on the far side of the dome bottom, I and Terri kept busy visually examining the foot prints and pottery pieces surrounding a pond on another side of the dome bottom. It was as we were about to leave the pond area that we noticed the isopods that Paul had reported seeing the day before.

The five isopods sighted were pure white, measuring one to two inches in length, around a quarter to a half inche in length, and with the visible vestiges of an optical system. Also sighted were some sort of larva on the surface, apparently serving as a food source for the isopods. Of particular interest was the witnessing of one isopod swimming up to another, only to see this second one dart off quickly as it got extremely close, as if this was purely a tacteral, rather than a visual, response. However, this was hardly a scientific setting so I would not rush to make any conclusions from this one lone incident as to the extent of any mitigation of the creature's optical system. It is hoped that some member of the project with a biological background will make a extensive study of these creatures at some future date. Prior to leaving the area I attempted to take several photos with a cheap point and shoot flash equipped camera, noticing no reaction of any sort from the isopods in the process.

Upon finishing the survey Paul, Dale, along with Teri who had followed them up the previously mentioned slope, returned down to the dome floor, making use of my 30 foot hand line as a safety line in the process. Reporting that they had surveyed to the end of the cave, which was only a short distance further than the dome in which we were located, the three of them, as well as myself, then started out of the cave. However, we did stop briefly to take some final photos inside of Cueva del-Aqua; now surveyed to approximately 150 meters in length.

Not wanting to have to drive down the "new road" to Aquismon in the dark, we hurried down the mountain, broke camp, threw everything into the trucks, stopped down at the village to say thanks and goodbye to Mr. Perez and Carlos, and headed out for Aquismon in record breaking time.

Arriving back in Aquismon after nightfall we headed over to the second of the two hotels in town, The Hotel San Cosme, where we got a room for all four of us for only $12 total. While the room, along with its bathroom and shower, were fairly decent, the door to room No. 4 was of some concern to Dale who was planning to sleep on the floor. The space between the door bottom and the doorway threshold was so large that every time one of us threw a healthy sized multi-legged creature outside, it would soon find its way back inside, onto the floor where Dale would be sleeping. Commenting on the three-inch cockroaches with lobster claws which we saw on the street earlier, Dale mentioned that he was really not a bug type of guy. It was at this point that I jokingly mentioned that he might wake up in the night with something attached to his nose with little lobster claws. He did not think this was funny. However, he probably would have had a good laugh had known that latter that night, with all the lights out and after everyone had turned in, that I, thinking about what I had said to Dale, would take the necessary precaution to protect myself. I quietly put on my bug proof full-face mosquito netted hood before falling to sleep (after all- anything three inches long with lobster claws could probably climb up the side of a bed).

After having dinner at a nearby restaurant on the other side of the town square, Dale and I began walking down to the local pub, and Paul and Terri started back towards the hotel. Returning to the same bar that I had visited earlier in the week with Jay and Mike, I introduced Dale to Mike's friend the "Redhead" who was our waitress. The three of us spent the next hour and a half enjoying each other's stories, along with a few beers, before Dale and I left to head back to the hotel. However, before we were allowed to leave, the "Redhead" insisted on having her photo taken with first Dale, and then me.

As we were walking by the town square, and just after I saved Dale's life by pointing out a huge lobster claw-carrying cockroach which he was about to trip over, I heard someone yell "Chris, Chris Nicola". I immediately thought how odd, I had to visit Kiev, Ukraine seven times before I started running into people which I knew on the street. I had only been in Aquismon once before, and just six days ago! When I turned around, I saw, to my surprise, Mr. Perez, Carlos, Ed, Jerry, Pam, Eddie, and Robin all sitting around a table at a nearby outdoor cafe. They had driven into town for dinner.

After they finished their meals, Pam, Jerry and Carlos said good-bye and left for the return trip to La Brecha. Meanwhile Dale and I walked over to our hotel with Robin, Ed, Eddie and Mr. Perez. Having learned that Mr. Perez was planning to be back in Aquismon the next morning for Market, Robin, Ed and Eddie invited him to stay in room No. 7 with them for the evening.

Entering room No. 4, and after evicting another bug which gained entry via way of the gap under the door, Dale and I retired for the night. But first I jokingly told Dale to make sure that the door was not cracked more than two inches, otherwise we would not hear it move if any bug came crawling into the room. Then I turned out the lights - I did not hear Dale laugh at my Joke.

My sleep was uninterrupted except from about 6 to 7 AM when we could hear the sounds of banging, hammering, and drilling as the locals set up their booths for Market. Although I now struggled to fall back to sleep, it wasn't the noise so much as something else which was keeping me awake. There was now a very strange smell throughout the room. At first I thought, "Oh Damn, somebody left carbide out near water". But then I realized it was not carbide, which I smelled, but rather Swamp Gas! I now remembered what someone had mentioned earlier in the week, "when staying at the hotel, make sure that you fill up a plastic bag with water, and then place it over the shower drain in order to stop swamp gas seeping into the room". Oh well, luckily enough my head was positioned only a few feet from an open window: a window, which I opened further before falling back to sleep.

Day 8 - Saturday - 11/25/00

The next morning we all meet for breakfast down the street, and then went shopping in the Market in the town's square. After I spent about an hour shopping for souvenirs for my friends back at the office in the Big Apple, the four of us said good bye to Ed, Eddie, Mr. Perez and Robin and started out for Rio Corona, where we planned to camp later that night.

A short distance out of Aquismon we stopped at Tanchanhuitz de Santos where we walked around touring the town, and looking for an audio tape of Huasteca music; a souvenir which I had yet to find. We eventually found ourselves walking up the mountain overlooking the town. Although we never did find a tape of Huastecan music, we did find the town's beautiful old church, which was being renovated, some sort of government supported Huastecan cultural center, and a radio station (1030 kHz AM " XEANT") which broadcasts Huastecan music, exclusively. We also found a little taco stand manned by a mother- daughter team, who in the interest of assisting us in our quest, recommended that we try to find a tape by the band named Micro-Sonica. After spending an enjoyable thirty minutes or so with the both of them, we continued our walk back to town, picked up our vehicles, and got back on the road.

Making a short stop on the way to look for Terri's glasses, which probably fell out of Paul's truck when they both stopped earlier in the week on the way up to La Brecha via way of the "old road" we continued Northward. Unfortunately, Terri's glasses were never found.

Shortly before nightfall, and after having stopped at a few roadside stands where I purchased some more souvenirs, as well as some bags of fresh coffee, we stopped at a truck stop for dinner. Then we continued Northward on the Inter-Continental Highway, but not before I turned over the wheel to Dale. While I had finally gotten use to the one-way bridges, and the "invisible middle lane", as well as the "shoulders of No Return", I still did not feel comfortable driving at night on one lane (i.e. one lane in each direction) mountain roads where huge tour buses constantly passed you on sharp turns.

At the Tropic of Cancer, which marks the parallel of Latitude at 23°27 north of the Equator, we stopped for what was explained to me was a ritual on these expeditions to Mexico; climbing atop of the huge concrete ball marking the 23°27 parallel. I must admit that it was a bit of a challenge getting atop of the monument (after all I was the oldest one of the group). It was also quite humorous. We all got a laugh watching each other complete the feat.

In Victoria we stopped to do some last minute shopping. One of the things, which caught my sight, was the armed security guard patrolling the parking lot of the large, fairly new, and ultra- modern supermarket that we stopped at. When I lasted visited the Former Soviet Union, my caver friends, when asked "What would you like me to bring you back from America next year" answered "Well, since we all grew up watching Clint Eastward movies, and have never tasted Tequila, a bottle of Tequila with THE WORM would be a nice thing to have". Well I found a bottle of Joyas Oaxaquenas with the WORM! There should be quite a celebration this coming August in Optimisticheskaya , the world's second longest cave, during the course of UAYCEF's Eight Annual Ukraine Expedition (note: UAYCEF is one of the NSS's newest projects, http://www.go.to/uaycef )

Arriving at about 2 AM, we attempted at first to find a campsite on the south bank of the Rio Corona on the east side of Highway 101. Unfortunately, the service road on the east side lead to an area devoid of any level ground as a result of extensive bridge/road construction. Consequently, we had to turn around, drive across Highway 101, and go down the west side service road. While this area had also been subjected to construction activity, it was not as extensive as the east side and did have some level spots suitable for parking and/or pitching a tent.

Keeping in mind that I was scheduled to catch a morning flight out of Dallas the next day, we had calculated that in order for me to make the flight, we would have to be on the road again by 7:30 AM the latest. This would allow me enough time to pickup Jay's car from Dale's house once we arrived in Austin, drive to Jay's outside of Dallas, and then be shuttled to the airport in time for my flight. So, realizing that my sleep time would be rather limited, I opted to save time on this particular evening by forgoing the pitching on my tent, and settling instead on sleeping inside the cab of Dale's truck. The time saved would be well appreciated by me the next morning- just some five hours away.

Day 9 - Sunday - 11/26/00

While we managed to get up at 7 AM "on the dot", and have breakfast in record breaking time, we did not get on the road until 8 AM. However, the dry roadway (it was Sunny at last), combined with the lack of traffic served to aid us in getting to the border at a fairly descent speed. The only hindrance we encountered were the check points; we got stopped at practically each one which we encountered. At the first one, they waived us off to the side, had us get out of the vehicles, asked us some preliminary questions, looked in the cabs, shuffled our baggage around in the back of the truck, and then let us proceed. Luckily enough Dale thought to take advantage of the stop to get rid of the bag of trash we had been transporting from our campsite in La Brecha for the last two days.

At the second check point we were waived to the side and instructed to back the car up over a ditch which was used by the officers to examine the underside of the car for the presence of contraband attachments and secret compartments. Needless to say, since I'm writing this article, we passed the test and were sent on our way. Meanwhile, Paul and Terri were instructed to just wait for us, and then follow us back onto the highway. Consequently, this stop was even shorter than the first one.

I think it was at the third stop that Dale diplomatically asked me to stop speaking Spanish to the Federalies each time we got stopped. It seems that instead of telling them "I'm sorry but I don't speak Spanish", I was instead saying "I'm sorry that you don't know how to speak Spanish". Oh well - did I mention that I was the oldest one in the group?

In terms of lack of traffic, we were extremely lucky once again at the US border. Considering this was the end of a holiday weekend, it was rather surprising that we did not encounter any heavy traffic. We did however get pulled over for a search. First we were asked to remove our bags from the back of the truck so that the officers could see the cab wall at the front of the truckbed. Next, we were asked to open up several duffels and plastic tubs. Finally, after answering a few basic questions, and we were off to declare our alcohol at a booth a short distance away. It was while dealing with the alcohol that we all learned some pleasant news - -- out-of-state residents (i.e. non-Texans) like myself can bring four litters of liquor back across the border rather than only one like residents.

A short distance over the border we stopped for lunch. Unfortunately, Dale's stomach was bothering him, so he decided to forgo lunch, and just try sleeping a little in the truck. Paul, Terri and I then had a quick meal before getting back on the road heading for Austin. It was clear sailing all the way to Austin and then - TRAFFIC !!! Now there was no longer doubt that this was a holiday weekend. It took us about an hour in bumper to bumper traffic before we could exit and meet up with Paul and Terri at a Dairy Queen just off of the highway. After exchanging email addresses, phone numbers and good byes our Nissan - Land Cruiser convoy came to an end, with each vehicle now taking a different route for the first time in nine days.

Arriving back at Dale's I immediately started transferring my bags/equipment, as well as those of Jay, from Dale's truck to Jay's car. Meanwhile, Dale called Jay in order to get some driving directions for me. A short time later, after speaking briefly to jay over the phone, I exchanged good byes with Dale, thanked him for letting me join him and the others, and headed out for Dallas via way of more TRAFFIC on the highway. Yes - this was definitely a holiday weekend ! But, at least it was no longer raining.

Although I would have liked to have continued driving straight through to Dallas, the bumper to bumper traffic, as well as having had only five hours sleep in forty hours, finally caught up to me by 11 PM. I found it necessary to pull off to the side of the road in order sleep for a couple of hours. Consequently, I did not get to Jay and Sheila's house until about 3 AM the next morning. Then I spent several hours packing and re-packing in preparation for my flight before finally going to sleep for an hour. Two hours later Sheila, accompanied by little Liam, dropped me off at the airport where I caught my flight back to the Big Apple via way of a stopover in Atlanta. By the time I arrived back at my house I had had only twelve hours sleep in sixty-one hours, but it was well worth it!

Conclusion:

So my first trip to Mexico, with a great bunch of cavers, came to an end. I was back in the United States where I no longer had to worry about mooning a poisonous sneak in the mornings, being chased by killer African Bees down a mountain, telling 17 year old kids with machine guns that I was sorry that they could not speak Spanish ("no habla espan~ol"), and 20 foot high acid secreting plants. But I still didn't know who would be the next president of the United States. However I could now see the Sun once again.

On a serious note, my thanks and gratitude to all those cavers who made my trip so memorable and enjoyable. I would also thank, as I'm sure all of the other project members on this trip would, Mr. Perez, Carlos and their families for the wonderful hospitality shown to us while visiting their country.

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