trip gets better

In the end it doesn't really matter but it sorta funny that we sat down and took an inventory of food/water/spaceblankets but we never noticed the page of typed notes.

Oh well...as the days go by (and the soreness goes away) that trip gets better and better in my mind (c:

Bryan 

knife in my cave pack

The back of my knees and a couple of toes were rubbed raw but thats the worst part today. I mean...Im a little sore but not as bad as i was yesterday. Sleep and a hot hot bath last night seemed to help a lot.

Anyways...thanks for a great weekend. In the end everything worked out well! Sean/Kirk...btw I checked last night and I do carry a swiss army knife in my cave pack...I just wasnt thinking right and forgot about it when we were dealing with that stupid string on the gate. :) 

Regarding Honebrink's directions

Other than getting spiked in the knee by a rock and having a few sore muscles I feel great. Regarding Honebrink's directions I have what you have which was sent to me by Houston.LoL - Dealing with a string that needs to be cut is generally the best time to remember where you put your pocket knife. - you just justified Houston's comment to me that I was obsessing irrationally over the string issue, hehe.Lastly I think Shawn is ready to go to the end of Fitton's to do the 120 ft. pit into oblivion. Who wants to go there next? lol, Roy 

Kirk

After two plane changes (dammit) in houston AND salt lake i made it back w/ no problems and am actually at work (not working much, but i get credit for showing up!). i'm not too sore either though knees and elbows are still a little sore to the touch.

As to those last directions we didnt have (dammit, again), i think we were right there and cant figure out how we missed it with almost 2 hrs of looking on our own. oh well...

Thanks to everyone for a great trip! Full. Package. Tour.

kirk 

Devil's Den from bottom of pit

 

Utah Cave: TAG Definition of "Spelunker"

It sounds like the TAG definition of spelunker was based on those actual dudes:

"Spelunker - person who goes into caves without proper equipment or the desire to learn/practice proper safety/conservation techniques.
Example: When five people go spelunking, everyone has well-worn tennis shoes, two might have flashlights, one claims to know about the cave, and none in the group has a helmet. The word spelunker comes from the sound one makes when they slip, fall, and land in a pool of water - SPEEE-LUNK!
The difference between a Spelunker and a Caver is: Cavers rescue Spelunkers!"

Or sometimes only try.

Dale

Utah Cave: Darwin Award Material

Darwin award material.

freediving sumps....told you. 1' or 20', doesn't make a difference. Don't do it. Nose draggers and eardippers are fine just no total submersion, ever.

not to mention....no helmets, etc, etc,etc.
stupid is as stupid does.

-HH

Utah Cave

Sent: Friday, August 19, 2005 8:43 AM
Subject: Re: Utah Cave

What happened is a real shame. Sounds to me like a good night ended in tragedy after a few beers and a night out. Have any of you guys ever decided, after midnight, to drive over to a cave you heard about and "see if it goes"? This was a real recipe for disaster: Shorts, sandals, maybe one flashlight... I'll bet that cave will be gated in no time; before it's actually explored by experts.

Billy

Amphibious Redneck Abomination

From: Shawn
Sent: Monday, June 27, 2005 6:41 PM
Subject: floating 4 wheeler email
IT WORKED!!!!
Part nine of "Rednecks Gone Bad" or “The Other Pearl River Resort”
Picture: Hubert and his impossible amphibious machine.
Video: Patent Pending (this is secret footage of the prototype)














From: Andy
Sent: Friday, June 24, 2005 8:00 AM
Subject: RE: hardin- crook 4 wheeler project
Its beginning to look like a twisted episode of “The lost boys” only instead of vampires you guys are Mississippian’s. “They sleep all night. Party all day. Never grow old. Never die. It’s fun to be a Mississippian”. Roy

From: Houston
how about a full auto HK MP5 PDW 9mm...cyclic rate of 900 rounds/min????? We could use it to "motivate" Hubert across the Pearl. -hh

From: Shawn
Hubbie - I am also bringing some steel cable, rope (not enough to cross the pearl), life jacket, scuba gear, bagels.

From: Hubert
Amphitrax Project status:
--->Items in-hand: Four 25x13x9 tubes, Twenty 48" zip ties
--->Items needed:
1) a package (20 or more) of 34" (or longer) industrial zip ties. Home Repo is an absolute rip-off.
I found a place I think is named "Southern Pipe and Supply" on Hwy49 next to a Dairy Queen (right off the I20 exit). They claim to have lots of 34" zip at .07/each which beats the $1.00/ea I paid for my 48" ones.
3) A form of paddle for the tires. Ok, this ain't easy to describe, but we're gonna need some "go" attached to the rotating rear tires.
Of course it's no speedboat, but it would suck to have it float and no go.

From: Hubert
Yeah, I would like a little more float in reserve. It is going to be -very- close with machine+pilot.
Did I mention that since our last communique I have procured 20 48" zips (probably need 5-10 34" short ones as well) and 4 25x12x9 Shindawa "rotsa-ruck" tubes?
Oh, I also mentioned the master plan to the Polaris dealership where I found the tubes. In case they'd been there, done that and had words of wisdom.
Polaris' official response was: "You're joking, right?" and refused to discuss the matter further during the transaction.
Wimps.

From: Matt
Well, in the interest of advancing scientific knowledge I would like to mention a few things.
1. A tire is a circular torus. V=2p2Rr2 So the happy news is you were extra conservative. I get 5.3 cu. ft. However I have had a few beers tonight.
2. There is something called a stability triangle. (It’s not actually a triangle, it is a pyramid.) If you don’t keep the center of gravity within this at all times, your system will seek a more stable arrangement (usually upside down).
3. Remember that the vehicle will sink until the weight of the water displaced equals the weight of the vehicle, cargo, passengers, and crew. While I could probably derive you a formula for that, it would probably be wrong (see beer comment above). Anyhow, where exactly are the intake and exhaust on these four wheelers?
4. I figure 5.3 cubic feet of air for each tire. At 60 psi, that is about 87 cubic feet of air total. Houston, what’s the average adult’s lung capacity? .2 cubic feet or so? Why not bring along a 12v pump (these things have electric start, right)?
5. Forget the 400lb fat asses (you two have really let yourselves go, huh?) How much does the four-wheeler weigh?

From: Dale
Subject: RE: hardin- crook 4 wheeler project
I think the first test should come complete with a support vessel. My canoe should be here this week. Also, the test "pilot" should wear a life preserver (I have extras).
But you guys may be on to something big. Your basic redneck has a bass boat and a 4-wheeler, but he can't afford a racin' boat too. This will allow even the average redneck to take his motorsports out on the water, where all new terms will have to be invented ("bumping balloons" just doesn't have the same ring as "grinding fenders" or "tradin' paint").
Let's get this show on the, er, water.

From: Hubert
Houston, I was thinking pre-inflate the tubes and carry 'em down on the front and rear racks. Bet they fit, and will double as a storage bin for Krystal cheeseburgers.
Remind me to bring a Schrader-valve remover thingy.

From: Hubert
Subject: Re: hardin- crook 4 wheeler project
Oh, yeah - Houston,
Don't mention this to anyone yet, just in case it turns out to be a hare-brained idea.
BTW, didn't Archimedes drown?

From: Houston
Subject: hardin- crook 4 wheeler project
This is a summary of hubert and houston's discussions about how to get the 4 wheelers across the pearl river in order to ride the trails "over thar".
the leading proposal is to ziptie an extra 4-wheeler -like inner tube to the outside of each existing tire. We could easily pack the deflated tires, hand pump, and long heavy duty zipties down the trails to the river....then inflate, ziptie them on, and go a floatin' and hoping that the math is right. Archimedes principle I think.
Folks this is a huge mission concerning the 4 wheelin' riding scene back there. I've run out most of the trails with exception of Mule Jail and Spillway area. We need to broaden our horizons and this is the way to do it.
Oh yeah...Hubert has stated that he will ride ...er, float...er, swim...across first.

From: Hubert
Excellent.
------------------------------
Let's say for estimating purposes an average tube has a outer diameter of 22", a width of 12" and an inner diameter of 9: That leaves us with a tube diameter (cross section) of 22" - 9" = 13"
We still need the circumference (length of tube "unrolled") , so 2 PI r, or 2 * 3.14159 * 7" (-4" to get center of tube, and just cause I feel conservative) = 44" (tube "unrolled")
Now, knowing the formula for the volume of a cylinder:V = (pi)r^2 x h where h is the height.
V = 3.14159 (13 * .5) ^2 * 44"
so, 3.14159 * 42.25 * 44" = 5840 cu in
or, 3.38 cubic feet displacement per tube.
Just cause I'm feeling antsy and I tend to screw up mundane math details, I'm going to halve the displacement to 1.7 cu ft.
Ok, 62.4 pounds per cubic foot of Pearl River water so
1.7 * 62.4 pounds = 106 lbs bouyancy per tube.
4 tubes x 106 = 424 lbs .
Sanity check: Picture a 400 lb fatass floating on 4 large ATV tubes in the Pearl River. .... I guess I could/have seen that happening.
...Ok, it'll probably work. Let me know if i screwed up the math.
*****
Puzzled redneck looking at wire running across river: Dude, that's not a "trot line", we plumbed the Pearl with Gigabit Ethernet.
...Install ports in a few strategically-located oak trees and you'll never have to worry about being house bound and on-call again.

From: Hubert
To: Houston
Sent: Saturday, June 11, 2005 1:43 PM
Subject: The answer to the question no one asked
Q: How would I make my 4-wheeler float across a river while appearing smart and stylish at the same time?
A: Four inner tubes, twelve 48" zip ties, and one plastic gold crown air freshener.

Poster Boy, May 2005: Chinn Springs

So, who is this dude, and why should you be very afraid? See link below.

Roy and the Little Rock Grotto at Chinn Springs

Mud Fest

I can't wait to get underground again. I've got the itch now. we need to hit a different variety of cave...the wet muddy nasty ones! and I've got the perfect one in mind....Pettijohn's in Lafayette, GA.....7 mi. of cave or so....and it ain't like Fitton's but its a mud fest blast, yes it is. I've been there about a dozen times (including an ill fated in cave camping trip) but still have tons of it to do. I want to follow the stream passage to the lost hammer section and the waterfall which I've never been to.

Matt, Reed, and Hubert all have extensive experience in this jewel.

Great campsite at a spring located nearby (the Blue Hole) and that's also the trailhead for Ellisons' cave.

Pettijohn is calling my name.

-HH

Fitton Cave: We batted .600

Dale Shearer, Houston Hardin, Shawn McKee, Roy Andrews, & Billy Crews

Trip Report by Billy Crews

It was in the early Spring of 2005 that a collection of us SCers began talking about hitting a real cave: Some of us had done the full, Bataan death march when Mack had us underground for ten hours during the 2004 Camp’s Gulf assault. And others had done a stint of TAG pit bouncing in Valhalla. The weather was becoming more agreeable, and with a plan to hit the Buffalo National River (BNR) in April, it was time for something epic.

Roy had been telling us about Fitton Cave and, after hearing some details, we all agreed it would definitely satisfy our needs: Fitton (aka Beauty Cave, originally named for its fantastic formations) is the longest known cave in the state of Arkansas. While the current survey has logged over seventeen miles of underground passage, the end of the trail is still yet to be found.

While in pre-trip mode, we each spent some time on the PC looking for clues to gaining access or help in navigating the cave. Through his other caving adventure, Shawn had made contact with Houston Hardin,a caver of the highest magnitude with an abundant number of resources. As it turns out, Houston (H.) would become a central member among the SC group. Meanwhile, Roy, did some homework via his Grotto membership and we eventually found out that although the cave was located on private property, access was granted through the BNR National Park Service. Due to its vastness, the park service required that you submit an application of which a “resume” of your teams experience was required. Obviously, they didn’t let just anybody in...

I don’t remember exactly how what happened the way it did, but somewhere around the first of April, I found myself on the phone with the BNR Park Ranger and head geologists, Chuck Bitting. He was inquiring into our application for visiting Fitton Cave and he “had a few questions”. He noted that we listed Camp’s Gulf as our last cave trip and commenced to questioning me on the details. It was more like an interrogation where he was leading me as a material witness: “So, y’all got to the back of the entrance tunnel - then what?”. I’d give the obvious right answer, where he’d follow up with “So that was the end of the trip; after the first big room?” I’d comment some more, and basically he let me lead him (over the phone) throughout Camp’s and all the way to the lower bore hole and ending at the sump. Chuck, being a ranger and geologist, was likely a well traveled TAGger himself and was looking for me to perhaps “step into a hole” as I described Camp’s. I guess I did the our little group proud; someway, somehow, I had BS’d (to a certain degree - heck, Camp’s was the only cave I ever bagged) our way into the longest known cave in the state of Arkansas.

With our planned weekend upon us, we made the trip north and were soon meandering the Boston mountains navigating our way to the trail head. On this particular trip we would use the old Erbie gravel road for getting into the area of Fitton Cave. As it turns out, this was right across the road from the ghost town of Dogpatch, USA that at one time was a hillbilly theme park: You know, Li’l Abner, Daisy Dukes, and other such cartoon characters that came from a much older American culture. I had actually visited the theme park as a child while on a family vacation and it pains me somewhat when I see parts of my childhood that have died slow, painful deaths as did Dogpatch. Roy navigated us for quite a few miles as we travelled the gravel road and just after passing the historic town of Erbie we finally found the trail head. As stated, Fitton is a vast system, so before entering, the NPS requires all caving groups to complete a “trip plan” which is then deposited into a lock box. And, upon exiting the cave, another report is required so that the NPS can confirm you have exited the cave and are not still underground. I don’t know how often the park services empties the contents of the lock box, but I was hoping it was more than once a week. With the initial paperwork completed we hit the trail.

While the caving portion of this trip would be the real deal, the hike in and out of Fitton is a jewel of a trip in itself. The hike into Fitton is approximately two and a quarter miles, so not counting the distance we would travel underground, we would get a nice hike of nearly four and one-half miles above ground. Loaded up with our gear we headed down the trail, and I do mean down: Although I was excited about getting in to Fitton, the first ‘quarter mile of the hike-in sucked. Going downhill from the beginning would mean an up hill finish... In no time we had made the beaver dam that currently blocks the Van Dyke spring with its confluence of Cecil Creek. For the rest of the hike we would more or less follow Cecil Creek upstream for nearly two mile and until a sizable wash enters the creek from the east. Our little band of five strung out with varying topics breaking out in discussion as we made our way down the trail.

At about halfway through the hike-in, we came across a rock wall that is reported to be one of the longest and oldest standing rock walls in the Ozarks. Located near the wall was a scattering of antique grade “junk” - evidence of the pioneers that had once lived along Cecil Creek and who had also constructed the wall. It was nearly forty-five minutes since we had hit the trail head and had finally arrived at the eastern wash. Turning out of Cecil Creek, we followed the smaller watershed upstream until we came across the “door”.

Lying in the dry creek bed was a flat, iron door; it looked old, and heavy, and was hinged on one side - but I couldn’t tell what it was attached to. It was just lying there in the creek bottom. It was about three feet by four feet and looked as though it would weigh a ton. Inscribed on the door, via a welding rod, were the words “Keep Out”. Below the warning was a date of “04-01-65” and it was initialed “JHS”. Damn, this door was older than me. Shawn told me to open it so we could get into the cave. What? I thought the cave was gated? I didn’t see a lock. I couldn't’ figure how a cave could “start” in a creek bottom... it would obviously be filled withe water, right? Following directions, however, I got down on my knees and gave it a tug. That was when I heard a few chuckles behind me. OK, dick move. The laughs were at my expense of still being somewhat of a caving and BNR newb. No, we had not reached the cave’s entrance. What we had found was the original door that was installed back in 1965 by then property owner, and famous Arkansas caver, Jim Schermerhorn. At some point after becoming the property managers, the NPS had removed the door and installed a “bat friendly” metal cage-type gate. I took the jest in stride and we continued up the watershed for about 100 yards where upon the trail went vertical. From the smaller creek’s bottom we scrambled up the left wall to a height of about fifty feet where we found a bench of rock. There, in the small landing area, sat the opening to Fitton Cave.

As reported, the cave’s opening was simply a hole in the hill side, not much bigger than the door lying in the creeks bottom. It was completely blocked by a locked, caged gate. With all five of us arriving on the bench, we commenced to changing into our cave gear and reshuffling our packs. Geared up and ready for the darkness, Roy pulled out a wad of paper and went to work on the combination lock that secured the gate in place. Just before we entered, Houston made a note of the time and said we were good. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that until he explained to me that “no self-respecting caver would ever go underground before noon”. Man, H. is hardcore... After we had all entered, Dale reached back out, brought the gate home and replaced the lock in the closed position. I don’t think any of us had ever been locked into a cave before and the feeling was quite ominous.

Now on the inside, we were all in position on top of a slippery break down. Houston warned us not to go right of the breakdown - on the right side was a dark, seemingly bottomless pit - yeah, right is not good... One by one, we slithered down the breakdown on our backsides bottoming out about fifty feet later. At this point Fitton boast quite a hall: Apparently the hill we had entered was, for the most part, hollow. This hall looked to measure 100 feet across and was reported to be several hundred yards long. I immediately found out why the cave was originally called Beauty Cave: Pretties were everywhere - the walls were decorated with flow stone and ribbons. Central to the bottom of the breakdown was a large column, easily fifteen feet from floor to ceiling. Other ‘tites and ‘mites littered the ceiling and floor and were easily visible in one sweep of the head light. Houston reached into his pack and produced two sets of “maps”: They were each literally word -for-word directions of how to navigate the cave and had come from his numerous resources available only to him. Fitton was a vast underground system with miles of trail. Our goal for this trip was to reach the Tenouri or “T” room. Reading from the first set of directions, Houston said “After entering, from the bottom of the breakdown, work your way to the right until you reach the “manhole”. OK, that sounds easy enough. Houston then read from the second set of directions, which came from another source: Here he read nearly two complete pages of step by step directions until somewhere around the bottom of page two, he found mention of the manhole. What the...? I don’t guess anyone would be surprised that the first set of directions got wadded up and never came out of the pack again.

As per the directions, we worked our way to the right side of the main hall and found a passage between the wall and a long horizontal slab of rock. At this point we split up as the next feature would be the “monorail”, being a lengthy crawl, and reported to be still a little further right. Somehow, Houston and I ended up together, while Roy, Shawn, and Dale were behind us and further right. After several minutes of moving around and investigating the features, I found myself standing ankle deep in wet muck. Standing in a small, circular pit, I found where a small trickle of water was coming from one side. Houston joined my side, then, crouching down in the muck, shined his light into the crevice from where the water was issuing. He got me to join him on his knees and told me to look in there: Oh, no... this can’t be right, Houston -people can’t go in places like this. The light showed us a wet crawl that was hardly any wider than our shoulders. The bottom was literally six inches of wet, mushy clay. The ceiling was no more than twenty-four inches high. The end of the crawl - well, there was no end - it just kept going. My heart sank. I don’t think this is the kind of trip I signed up for. But Houston said it somewhat resembled the directions, so we were going in. He was going to push the lead and report back and then I would call the rest of the guys to our location for following him. Right away, I decided I’d try to be last. He stood up, removed his pack and then fashioned it with a length of rope tied off around his ankle. There was not enough clearance in the crawl for your pack, even on your belly, so we were going to have to drag our packs behind us. He got back on all fours and right about when he stuck his head in the hole, Roy hollered: “I got it, I found the way.” Man, that was a close call. Houston and I had found one nasty, false lead. Both extremely relieved, we bounded out of the sumpy pit and followed voices until we hooked up with the rest of the gang.

They had indeed found the monorail; more to the right of my and Houston’s location the ceiling pinched down and the crawl began. One by one, we got on elbows and knees dragging our packs behind us. Unlike Houston’s false lead, this crawl, although not much higher, was wide and dry. I assumed the monorail had gotten its name from the traffic of elbows and knees that had caused a long, double trough with a central median being pushed up. Having all navigated the twenty-five yard crawl, we entered an area just high enough to stand in and continued the hike through the highly decorated area. Just a few minutes further on, we reached a small room with a huge column commanding the scenery. According to our favored set of directions we had reached the “missile silo”. The column, originating from a hole in the ceiling, was easily thirty inches thick and descended into a pit. Looking up or down the column, one couldn't see either end of the top or bottom. It has obviously been growing for thousands of years. After Roy recorded the missile silo, we pushed on in search of the manhole which would lead to the rest of the cave.

It was an hour and a half since we had locked ourselves in the cave when we finally reached the manhole and here ensued the discussion as to how we would access the rest of the cave. The drop was about twelve feet, but it had a large boulder on the bottom left side. Shawn tried to stem his way down but he couldn't seem to find any good purchase. He finally gave up after several attempts and joined us on the top side. It was about fifteen minutes into the debate that I felt my Exit Fever coming on. I learned that I hated idleness in the cave; when I’m moving I’m fine, but sitting around and debating the issue really makes me worry. This, of course, was about the same time that Dale noticed the cantaloupe on his leg: Dale had obviously been nursing an old knee injury, and for some reason, Fitton brought out the worst of it. He acknowledged that he could not go on and I didn’t take long in volunteering to walk him out. The buddy system is an important caving standard - nobody goes anywhere solo; it just isn’t worth the risk. It was decided, then - Dale and I would route for the exit and wait at the vehicle, while the trio of Shawn, Houston, and Roy would continue to push the cave. So, five cavers going in and two exiting early - as a group we were going to bat .600 (at best).

While Roy and Shawn worked on rigging the manhole for their descent, and Houston studying his notes, Dale and I packed up for the hike-out. We noted the time, discussed exit times as per our call out and said our good-byes. I don’t think we had walked five minutes when we both stopped, looked at each other and realized that none of what we were looking at seemed familiar. Were we lost? No, we couldn’t be, but we both realized a well known caving lesson: Anytime you enter a new passage, always turn around and study the scenery so you will know what to look for on your way out. Although none of what we were seeing looked familiar, Dale and I knew we were headed in the right direction. We eventually came across some pretties that looked familiar, found the missile silo, and made the crawl out through the monorail.

We had finally reached an area where we could stand and intent on getting out, I went left and Dale split right. We both stopped and asked each other “Where the hell you going?” Of which we both replied “Out”. Each of us was confident the other was wrong. After a small debate, we agreed we would each go our own way (rule breakers...) for five minutes, then report back to the spot we were standing and confirm the way out. Dale went right, where upon I sat down and turned off my light. Dale came back about five minutes later noting that he did in fact go the wrong way. I went on point and in no time we had entered the entrance hall and had made our way back up the breakdown to the locked gate.

Dale and I took a BREAD break once on the outside then eventually made our way down the wash and back into Cecil Creek. Once again, we split heading in different directions with Dale being adamant that I was going in the wrong direction. Dale had noted that ever since we found the creek on the hike-in, we had been going up stream. I never even bothered to check. Still not convinced I ventured up the trail a few hundred yards and it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was in Parts Unknown. I doubled back at a light jog and in no time found Dale waiting for me on the trail. “Billy, are you ready to quit screwing around and go back to the truck now?" he inquired. “Yep, I’m right behind you”. The buddy system; it definitely paid off for the both of us. Dale and I took our time on the hike-out, taking a break every ten minutes or so, so that his knee wouldn't bother him to bad. We finally made the Van Dyke spring and, after completing the up hill section of the trail, had soon found Roy’s truck. After drinking a few cold brews each, we got some shut-eye as we waited for our three underground companions.

Although Dale and I had an epic adventure cut short, the story does continue. All I can say at this point is that somebody (Shawn, Houston, or Roy) needs to tell the rest of the story. It would be nearly six after hours after we arrived at the truck before we would see these three intrepid explores again...

Valhalla Trip Post-Mortem: Gear/Technique Issues

ED. COMMENT: This e-mail string followed a trip to Valhalla pit in northeastern Alabama in early 2005. This discussion exposed lore, folklore, ignorance and superstition about rope, gear and techniques for the IRT, and that was just from your Editor.

From: "Matt"
Subject: RE: Pics of the Valhalla Trip
Wow, 4lbs/100ft. that is about half the weight of caving rope. For spectra (UHMWPE) and polyester, try not to get the sheath too hot. If you have a really screaming rappel, get the descender off the rope quickly.
I do wonder how the spectra will hold up to repeated flexing. As I recall it was better than aramids (like Kevlar) but worse than nylon or polyester. Flex fatigue is usually inversely proportional to modulus (stiffness). The high molecular orientation is great for tensile strength, good for modulus, and bad for flex fatigue. Although as Houston mentioned, half of 5000lbs is still a heck of a lot.

From: Shawn
Roy, my rope is: BlueWater Canyon Rope 9.2mm
"A more economical version of the Canyon Pro. 100% polyester sheath. 100% nylon core. The sheath strand design utilizes the same Z/S, S/Z cabled construction as the Canyon Pro. Excellent diameter to strength ratio. Flourescent Orange. Available in 200 and 600 ft. lengths. Tensile Strength: 5000 lbs, safe working load: 333 lbs, weight per 100 ft: 4.03 lbs"
Joe told us that your rope made of the recently declassified military grade Kevlar impregnated with silicon. You bought your rope from the guy, remember. I ordered my rope before the trip.
You think he was making that stuff up? What about the 10.5 megabit SLR just released waterproof canyon camera he was getting? Not that too.
I think your rope is the pro version of mine. 8mm.

From: Andy
The rope that I have is not Kelvar - Shawn's is though I believe. Mine is 100% Spectra 1000 core:
SPECTRA, DYNEEMA & HIGH MODULUS DYNEEMA Spectra is the trade name for a high performance polyethylene (HPPE) fiber manufactured by Allied Signal. Dyneema is manufactured by DSM (Netherlands) and is the same material. Originally introduced in 1985, there are two versions: Spectra 900 and Spectra 1000. The original Spectra 900 has a higher elongation and can not be sewn. The Spectra 1000 was introduced to overcome these drawbacks and is used today for paragliders. The two types of Spectra are the source for the myth "that all Spectra stretches".

From: Matt
I've rappelled 200ft on an eight, on caving rope. Sure it's less safe than a rack, but if you want to be really safe you can watch it on TV.
I think the spiral pattern the poor motion-sick caver behind you leaves on the sides of the pit is fascinating. I tried to do that to Reed once, but he got me back by knocking ice down on me for much of the drop.
Anyway, Dave and Houston are not the final authorities on what is cool. I've seen both of them do stuff that would make your hair curl.
As to the Kevlar rope, I have some experience with some of the high strength filaments - aramids and super-oriented UHMWPE (spectra, dyneema, and others). What I recall as of two or three years ago is that flex fatigue was far worse than nylon, heat resistance was worse as well. Also, the knot strength of a figure eight knot in nylon rope is 70-80%, while for the high strength filaments it was more like 50%. So, especially rappelling with an eight, I would be interested to know how quickly the Kevlar rope lost strength. They could have solved the problems, I haven't kept up with it since I have been out of the industry and almost out of caving and climbing.

From: Shawn
Kirk, you set a new record for bugging out and leaving gear in four states!
Correct that, not gear, disgusting muddy denim artifacts and other stuff. I do have the dirty laundry, on you along with about 15 pounds of gear. B. has already washed your stuff though, so you will be getting it back.
Question: did you have three croll ascenders? a new one and two black ones? are those Matt's? do you want me to deliver all this stuff to Dale along with his Bastard Agitation Cooler? my glove collection grew. any claims can be filed. two homeless biners are being held ransom for a straight swap - anonymous replies accepted.

From: Andy
What are you talking about? I would do it again. Dale got so freaked out about it so I questioned Houston and Dave and both of them told me that it was cool. Besides, this was no standard figure 8. It was a Piranha which has multiple friction points built into it. What did you guys think about the picks I took ON repel?

From: Dale
Joke, what joke?!? He was actually using a figure 8. Probably because I told him not to. Since that's the only guaranteed way to get Roy to do something.

From: William K
I thought the figure 8 joke was pretty funny...

From: Dale
Sent: Thursday, April 07, 2005 7:22 AM
Subject: RE: Pics of the Valhalla Trip
Says HH: I have the joneses to go again...already.
Says I: Neversink!
Great photos, Roy. By the way, I think I'd remove the reference to using a figure 8 on Valhalla Pit.