Write a short paragraph about Carroll Cave.
Missouri Caves and Karst Conservancy
Preserving and Protecting Missouri’s Karst Resources since 1992
Preserving and Protecting Missouri’s Karst Resources since 1992
Write a short paragraph about Carroll Cave.
further communication from gd: (Thanks for reading!)
it was st.louis university grotto during the trips done for helwig to do his
thesis. the names escape me mostly, but do remember: jim helwig, jay
ossenfort, dave harlan, dick fox, bill mc bride, john cantwell. ossenfort
and harlan were the photogs and if you can find the they have some truly
spectacular photos of the snowroom?.. at the first major fork from the
moountain room you went left. the right went to thunder river.
winter of 1962
mapping for 4 days from the mountian room to thunder river
Just an area resident that loves checking in once in awhile to see what is going on. It is too bad “community relations” aren’t good….I admire your work. Hopefully you can carry on!
In 1961 I was a member of a survey team from St. Louis Univ. Went into the natural entrance, past the milk cans, and walked the front part, “neck break” and all. No boat for us since the clearance was less than a foot. Anyway, I recently wrote a poem about the experience, assuming that the cave had been gated and closed soon after our adventure. Only found the web site today. Seem like a few things have changed. Here’s the poem. It kinda long, but so was that hike.
FOR LOVE OF CAVING
Years ago I went caving with some other men
About ten of us I think
Most had considerable experience
Three had never gone before
I was among those virgins at that time
Initiation time
But I was young and strong and curious
They’d watch out for me
This little cave had been know for many years
Farmers kept milk cold in there
In frames in the small stream flowing out
No need for going deeper
Local kids would scare their girlfriends in there
But it’s not romantic
Fifty two degrees and wet and muddy
Not a place for pleasure
I knew we’d be getting pretty wet in there
But thought the stream was shallow
Three feet at most, but one ceiling was at four
They called that the neck break
So now I’m in water up to my neck
Doing a silly duckwalk
Head bent to one side, helmet scraping roof
Carbide lamp at water line
Past that the ceiling will be at least five feet
Two feet above the water
Improvement yes, but I am six feet tall
Wet all through, really cold, neck crimped
What fun we’re having now but it gets better
Walk where others walk
Don’t leave more footprints than are needed
Trail’s one foot wide, two deep
And that’s not water, it’s mud that pulls boots off
Will this never end
Not till the breakdown, just two miles ahead
What does that name mean
At least the cave’s quite generous now
Like a subway tube
Maybe thirty feet in height and width
River ten feet wide at most
The cave once ended at the breakdown
Thin columns floor to ceiling
Like fifty feet of fence posts close together
Till they got broken down
A trail now two feet wide through this stone forest
Walking in the water now
Just a half mile more to rivers junction
Now this is really fun.
It seems that this cave has two rivers in it
One flows out the entrance
Turns at the junction to find its origin
A hidden lake they say
A bit further we hear the other stream
It’s far below us now
Maybe heading for that hidden source as well
But we’ll not be going there
Next comes the leap of faith across that river
Just jump as far as you can
Off one slick and muddy bank to the other
But the other can’t be seen
That far bank is some five feet below us
And slopes down to the water
If you don’t stay put on landing, down you’d go
We all made it safely over
At least we’d high above the river now
Rocks slimy but little mud
Our destinations just another mile
Then comes the unknown
The breakdown had been done just a year before
Beyond that all virgin
Where did it go, was there another entrance
That’s why we were here
One sometimes thought you felt a tiny breeze
Must be an opening somewhere
But the ceiling had fallen down long ago
The river oozed through rubble
Was there a way around we all wondered
Side passages had been found
We were there to explore each of them
Maybe find the prize
I was assigned a passage maybe three feet round
I began to crawl
The thin damp surface never seen by man
It ended in a hundred yards
It is a wonder to be in such a place
The first, perhaps the last
I laid there and turned off my carbide lamp
Utterly alone
That was an experience I had never had
And never will again
There are very few such places left
And I have had enough
Enough to last an entire lifetime
Overwhelming solitude
Was it frightening, no, not even in total darkness
I wonder why sometimes
We had been in that cave now for some seven hours
Hypothermia was a danger
We trudged back the way we had come before
But much more tired now
We hoped we would exit in late day sun
Oh warming sun
Then to the motel for hot showers and food
And lovely sleep
But one last hurtle, and not just the neck break
It had rained without warning
Four feet of water in a four foot space
No room to breath
We waited then for several hours, exhausted
Four inch clearance finally came
So off we all went, holding hands for safety
And so did a thousand bats
It’s been almost fifty years since that adventure
I think I’ve remembered well
A life experience never to be forgotten
I’m a very lucky man
Nice your poem would make a good trip report. Glad you found us
Digging for years and finally Break through. First time in Carroll cave. reppeled in assended out. What a day
My favorite memory of carroll, I have had a few, but i would have to say my first attempt to make it to the Lake room. What a trip. I was Younger then, truly not a full grown man. Not as much muscle to get my gear all the way, but tough as hell. I might have been slowed by the mud (never ending “Chilli” mud holes). Plus haveing a camp pack with me for more weight, but I still made it as far as everyone else. I had been caving before but, This was WILD CAVING. What a time. We basically made it but due to a person haveing a back issue and not sure quite how much farther decided to stop that time. I have been to the Lake sump 3 times now, and the last time i still left thinking, “What am I getting myself into…” It is more of a destination than a place to see. Still loved it.
Spending six days deep in the cave in 2006. Three days with the photo crew photographing The Liberty Bell, Scenic Falls, Horseshoe Falls and The Lake Room then meeting the survey crew at Jerry’s Cairns to survey to The Lake Room and in DL7. A most difficult and amazing trip.
My first trip to Carroll Cave was 35 years ago–I was 14, and already crazy in love with caves. I persuaded my brother Gary to come along on this KCAG trip. I remember the eerie boat ride in, that first icy step out of the canoe at the Neckbreakers, walking the two sets of neckbreakers, carelessly dunking my carbide light, and getting back into the canoe for the short trip across deeper waters to the Mountain Room. I remember changing clothes in the Mountain Room from dry clothes that were double-wrapped in garbage bags. My brother was cold and couldn’t get his gear to work, so I remember switching out some of my gear with his since I was already a “veteran” caver.
Moving down Carroll River, there were times when the water and mud were deeper than I was at 5′ tall at the time. A couple of times I had to be pulled out of a mudhole. We made it past snake rock, snake skin, the Turnpike, where my friend Bob Korte had broken his leg changing out the cable ladder, and on to the “Old Man Carroll” formation. I remember Dave Hoffman’s 1000-foot interval reflectors (are they still there to mark the distance?) They seemed to come ever so slowly for the squelchy mud pulling at my scrawny legs. At some point, we climbed up a passage to the left and ran ahead at a higher level, only to stumble upon yet another river passage. Somebody ran back for a rope, only to find that we had looped back to the Carroll River passage.
On the way back, one of the soles of my boots came off in the incomparable mud. Then the other. Neither was ever seen again through the depths, not that they would have done me any good anyway. I was ecstatic that I had finally been allowed to see Missouri’s king of caves, but all along dreading the getting wet again at the neckbreakers going out. It was a very cold pair of soaked socked feet that finally made it out later that day.
I couldn’t wait to go back.
But that is another story which would have to wait until May 22, 1976 to unfold.