This is a story I wrote during 10 or so trips to the office and mostly written while standing in a crowded MUNI train car. While in no way complete nor close to what it should have been been, I probaby will not be editing it again. So if it is bad, then it is bad and oooooh please dont point out every little flaw. One big “BAD!” or even a “NOT AS BAD AS I THOUGHT” would be happily accepted however.
Thanks for your interest and here is the beast.
24
The dark cave looked freaking awesome after the half day spent under the sun and we decided ta hang there a bit and down a drink ‘n some energy bars. Not doin all that well in the hot desert, we were soon gorged and crashed out on the cave floor, BS’n bout the ride up to that point and so comfy that it was forever before we noticed the strange rising and falling rumbling from deeper in the cave. Joe heard it first, “What the @#$% was that” he suddenly erupted. “This is the last place I wanna be in an earthquake.” But, by the time the rest of us shut up, it had stopped, or at least we couldn’t hear it. Joe went on and on however, tellin us ta leave and I couldn’t really blame the dude nor imagine being trapped underground out there. Then it start up again and we bolt for the exit, grabbing bikes and bits of clothing as we fled. However, Long Haul John suddenly turned back into the cave. “John are you @#$%-ing crazy, just leave it” blurted Joe as Long Haul disappeared around a corner and deeper into the cave.
John was older and we looked to him in most situations but he was also a stubborn SOB and thinking he was after his favorite cap (he would never wear a helmet) or such, I turned and went ta get him. “You to? Whats up with you guys, to much !@#$-ing sun” I heard as I rounded the corner John had just passed. Then, around the next bend, I ran smack into John. It took a bit for my eyes ta adjust, but I soon saw he was just stand’n there staring at a pool in the cave floor. “There’s your earthquake” he says, and just then, the rumbling noise start up again, but this time it ended with a ton of water gushing from some opening in the wall above the pool. “Ahh, something like a geyser down inside this rock”, “Yeah” answered John. “We better get Joe before he runs all the way back to the city.” Then, I noticed this plastic bag partially buried in the mud near the pool which initially pissed me off and start me ranting bout how “people think the world is their !@#$-ing garbage can.” But picking up the thing to take out with us, I found it contained a little book and was suddenly interested instead of pissed, and the interest grew with each page. The following is the crazy story we blew the remainder of the day readin and discussin in the shade of the cave.
All great biking tales start with “I was just riding along …” and so this one does. I was on my third night lap of the 24 Hours of Old Sonora. It was a cool, quiet night and I was cruising at a brisk yet pleasant pace over the lonely desert course, enjoying the nature bordering the trail and the creatures captured by my lights. As it was a 24-hour race and I had been going over the same trail for the last 10 hours, I had become quite comfortable and not as interested in the nuances of the topography as I should have been. Oftentimes even switching off my lights to gaze at the stars and to entice more denizens of the night onto the trail. It was thus I found myself at an important moment, riding in darkness and not exactly paying attention to where I was going.
I missed a sharp right bend and by the time I realized what was happening was utterly helpless to intervene. In fact, so compliant was I by then, it felt as if the event were happening to someone else, and I merely watching somewhat removed from the scene. The bike plowed through thick shrubs lining the trail on the outside of the turn and then launched through the air, as these shrubs concealed a drop. The height was not considerable however and the bike landed upright and after rolling a bit seemed to almost stop with both bike and rider no more than a bit shaken for the experience. However, as I was about to congratulate the rider, or myself, on the save, there was a kind of crunching sound and the bike began to nose down. Shortly thereafter, bike, rider, surrounding dirt and rock all disappeared from the scene in a swirling cloud of dust, leaving the desert once again bathed in cool stillness only broken by the cries of lonely creatures or the shouting of racers elsewhere on the course. As for me, the change was far from anything so pleasant. Once the dirt closed in above my head I was in complete darkness, and I was falling.
At first, I really was in a panic, grasping the grips so tight my hands ached, and I believe I was breathing harder and sweating more profusely then than while racing. However as the fall continued, these exertions seemed useless and I eventually relaxed enough to take in something of my surroundings. It was cool there beneath the desert and the air seemed quite fresh, not old and musty as I assumed a hole in the ground might be. In addition, where one would assume the only sound would be the air rushing past, there was something else. At first, I thought it was just disturbed air but it seemed too loud and later to sound even familiar, too familiar. “How could it”, I thought. “How could I have heard anything like it, never having been in a similar location or situation before.” It actually sounded something like a cassette freewheeling and to test this, I did a dumb thing; I grabbed the rear brake.
The bike snapped to the left, back to the right and then to the left again and repeated this several times before I realized what was happening and let go. It seemed I was not falling as I had assumed, but careening down a slope and the surface was either loose or super smooth and more likely the latter, as I would surely have detected the familiar sound of loose earth crunching beneath knobby tires. Later, I tried braking again and gently, but the result was nearly the same. As soon as the brakes start to grab, both wheels seemed to loose traction, and only by a miracle did I not fall. After this attempt, I decided to leave well enough alone and wait until the grade lessened or the situation improved before attempting to stop again. After all, chance delivered me thus far without mishap other than the event occurring at all, and the worst of it came only after my attempt to influence the outcome. Actually, besides throwing myself on the ground, there was little else I could do and rolling down on the bike seemed infinitely more comfortable than sliding down on my own.
Though I could not see, I could feel the tunnel I was in was neither straight nor the grade very constant. We were always turning, plunging downward or performing combinations of the two, which could be quite upsetting, at least at first. Sudden drops would have me flying through the air for incredible distances, and as the walls and transition to the floor were quite smooth, cornering often drove the bike high up the wall, so that I was almost horizontal. Once accustomed however, I thought if only there were lights and the location and facilities were a bit better, this might be a great indoor mountain bike park.
Anyway, the minutes or possibly hours passed thus, though it was near impossible to judge precisely for the ride was not so comfortable as to permit one to consult a timepiece, which in my case necessitated finding the switches of my lights first. However, eventually the tunnel more or less straightened itself out, if not some lessening of the grade as well, and I did try the lights, only soon wished I had not. I found the roof was never more than a few inches above my head, though thankfully the tunnel was almost a perfect circle and the diameter relatively constant. Also, the floor, walls and ceiling were constantly changing in appearance giving a real, or possibly unreal, sense of speed which when combined with the closeness of the space, was quite terrifying. I could however now see the steepness of the transition from the floor to the wall and considering the extreme grade and the tires I chose for the sandy conditions of the desert race, now understood the reaction when braking. I also did eventually remember to check the time but found the bike computer, and only watch I possessed, missing and so I cannot give an idea of the time the aforementioned event occupied, except I feel it has probably taken longer to write down than it took to occur.
I thus rode along with the tunnel stretching out before me, realizing I was using up electricity which as with food and water, I carried vary little of. However, no matter how constant the terrain, I was still terrified at the thought of continuing in darkness again and I kept the light burning. Speaking of food, during my last stop at the lighted start/finish tent, a quick inventory revealed 4 standard energy bars, three of the one for women, some fruit chews, half of a PB&J and a smashed banana, none of which I had touched since. I had also topped off my hydration pack while there and a considerable amount of that should remain, as the night was not particularly warm nor I very active on that last lap. This was not much however and I knew that if a means to climb out from the tunnel did not present itself, it would become pretty uncomfortably relatively soon.
It was here that possibly the strangest thing happened since the beginning of my journey. I guess concentrating on the supplies or the last hours of the race allowed me to momentarily forget my extraordinary and precarious situation and combined with the fatigue of the day spent riding, weariness began to creep over me. How could it could come at this moment I still cannot guess, but come it did and gradually I fell into a deep sleep right there on the bike while hurtling to my doom.
I cannot imagine how I could sleep then or how we remained upright, but I woke feeling quite refreshed and still gliding down atop my bike. I have no idea how long I was out besides feeling that I had a good sleep. The only other indication of time was that the light I had left on was now out, though I could not recall how much I had used the light after entering the tunnel nor before, so it was a poor indicator at best. I found myself slumped over the bars and the bike flying along as it had been the entire time in the tunnel with only the slightest bit of added instability due my weight being moved so far forward. However, I imagine the bike was running up one wall then the other, rising and falling and righting itself the whole time. Though somehow it did this free from any motion abrupt enough to wake the rider, and thankfully not enough to cause a fall.
Then I noticed something seemed different about the motion of the bike. Even though I had, carefully, returned to a normal upright position, the bike seemed to be more sensitive to my movements and less stable in general. Then I realized the bike was actually slowing and quickly, as if the tunnel made a sudden up hill turn.
I stopped, which I found I could now do with ease, and I got off the bike But just stood there in the dark. I was so grateful to have regained some kind of control, I completely forgot the second and unused light on my helmet. Then the aches and stiffness from the long period spent on the bike forced me to grope around for a place to sit. Here I must have dozed again and waking I found the fatigue and soreness had completely left me but I was now a bit hungry and dehydrated.
I remained seated there for quite a while after waking and eventually noticed a repetitive set of sounds coming from quite close by. One, a deep rumbling sound, was repeated only twice since I had realized it was happening but it was loud enough that I was glad it was not more constant. In between these rumblings there was a steady plop plop plop like splashes in water, seemingly counting the minutes I sat listening to it. If this would turn out to be water I thought, it would not be half-bad. However, before I could explore the possibility, another new sensation made itself known and quite a shocking one. Something large was crawling on me, actually more than one.
They moved so slowly as to almost not be detectable, but they were heavy and their weight is what attract my attention. This, on top of all I had been through, was quite disturbing, so much so that I remained immobile for some time before I could gather the courage to attempt to rid myself of the things, and finding that courage actually took more than I can ever convey in writing. I first sat there for quite a while literally wishing them, the tunnel, and all of it away and made all kinds of resolutions should they cooperate. I was going to throw out the mountain of Dirt Rag back issues taking half my living space, start a Trips For Kids chapter, and … well all sorts of things possible and impossible. But in the end it would be me, and not some mysterious force brushing these things away and holding my breath, I rose quickly and bat the things off of me with my gloved hands. Then, while already near to passing out, the deep and resonate rumbling sound returned, shaking the entire tunnel closely followed by a loud hissing or whistling sound. Retreating from this new nightmare, I ended up stumbling down to the saddle of the tunnel, where I fell and unhappily toward the sound not away from it. Where I should have hit the wall of the tunnel I did not, and falling a bit farther than I thought I could, splashed into an icy cold puddle. This shocked some reason back into me and with it the remembrance of a backup LED light on my helmet, which I was still wearing.
Lit up, the scene was both terrible and beautiful. I was lying in an immense space adjacent to the tunnel, made of a brilliant red-orange earth with a crystal clear pool of water in the middle lined with stalactites and stalagmites. However sharing this cathedral like room with me were large dark slugs resembling Sea Cucumbers but with a large sucker on one end framed by a pair of tentacles. Words do not exist to describe neither these monsters nor my feelings at that moment.
During the time of my retreat and the subsequent discovery of the adjacent space, I had not noticed the noise I heard previously, was now no longer there but while observing the space it came back again and this time without the mystery of the previous experience. First came the rumbling and then something different; the pool suddenly came to life and leapt into the air and through an opening in the ceiling. Near the spot from where the water erupted, another tunnel joined the cave and held the explanation to two previous mysteries. This other tunnel was coming in from about the opposite direction to that which I had been traveling and did not seem nearly as steep. A steady stream of water was running down its center and emptying into the pool. However, water was not the only thing it brought, and a new slug came splashing down the stream and into the pool about every minute or so.
This pretty much sums up the event up to the point where this document and I must part. I am not sure why I start to put this in writing, as the chance of it ever falling into hands that could effect a rescue seem slim. However, the act of writing it has been therapeutic. I will now place these pages in a sealed container and commit it to geyser’s jet of water hoping for it to be carried up and out. If found, I am not expecting the finder to do much, but hope the tale is found interesting and I will face whatever comes next imagining I am not forgotten. My plan is to climb the other tunnel, which after exploration I found is much less of a grade than the previous. It also has what appears to be a plentiful supply of water and though I have not seen lowlier fare, an equally endless supply of nourishment. Still, it is hard to express the hopelessness of the situation.
What started out as a 24-hour test has turned into a seemingly endless adventure, though reflecting a bit, I wonder if is actually different from my life up to this point. I have a long climb in the dark ahead without conveniences I desire, but with just the things I need. However, I also have some things here I can rarely swing; I have my bike and an endless amount of free time, what more could one ask for.
