Jeralin was at the gate, which was locked shut. (Jeralin, François, and I were the three experienced cavers.) The gate's kept locked to keep vandals and inexperienced people out, and kept locked while we're in the cave to keep those people from being inadvertently locked in when we leave. My brother Jeff and his fiancee Cindy were behind her. Jeralin took her key, stuck it in the lock and turned.
It snapped off.
This was Jeff's first real cave trip, but he didn't need much caving experience to know this was bad.
Caving was also new to my brother Jeff and his fiancée Cindy. I had been trying for several years to get Jeff underground, but calamity always ensued. I planned to go with him on multiple trips that got cancelled. Then we were going to do Clarksville and Onesquethaw, but we didn't meet at the right hotel to carpool. Then I technically got him in Surprise last March, but we only went fifty feet before realizing the bypass was full of loose rocks and not safe for new cavers.
Fate worked out for Sunday July 27, since he didn't have any plans that day. I finally got him on a real cave trip, without a calamity happening ... until we were in the cave.
I got to Surprise about two hours later than I was hoping. I was doing a ride share in the Bronx with Bob Cohen, Tabatha Waldron and her brother Tim. I was hoping Jeff and Cindy weren't politely stuck waiting for me. As it worked out, Jeff and Cindy had confusing directions, so they were also two hours late. Fate works out sometimes.
In the parking lot Steve Cohen told me he was putting together a trip report about getting trapped in Surprise a few weeks ago. (You lock yourselves in the cave once you enter, to prevent other parties from wandering in while you're in there and getting locked in my accident.) Their key got stuck in the lock. The group right in front of him locked the gate as they left, full aware that people were leaving fifteen seconds after them. I assured Jeff and Cindy that Steve's problem wouldn't be happening with us.
I told Cindy to bring several layers of old clothes, and then some clean clothes to change into. I'd give my coveralls to Jeff, and wear some ripped up jeans and a sweatshirt that are my secondary cave clothes. But I forgot those clothes at home. Well, at least I had a decent pair of jeans in my car, which I could wear and hopefully not trash up. But I left those in my car, parked in Bob's driveway in the Bronx.
I ended up borrowing a blue polypropylene (long underwear that doesn't hold sweat to the body) shirt from Bob, and keeping my gray polypro pants to wear. Jeff got the gray polypro shirt for under the coveralls. I knew multiple people who swore by caving just in polypros, although they usually had a pair of shorts overtop.
I had two pairs of new work gloves, and a crummy set of cotton jersey gloves that soak up moisture like a roll of paper towels. I passed the new gloves to Jeff and Cindy. I've got kneepads in the patches of my coveralls, and an extra pair I'm normally happy to lend out. The coveralls went to Jeff, and the spare set went to Cindy, so I'd be going through without padding. Don't worry, I didn't need kneepads for this trip. (Caving joke. You ALWAYS need kneepads.)
It would take me an extra two hours to get back home via the Bronx. I was saving gas money, but my return trip would involve an 18-point K-turn from Bob's driveway and a couple exits on my favorite oxymoron, the Cross Bronx Expressway.
Also, Bob, Tab and Tim weren't on my trip. They were with the Met cleanup trip, which didn't have a huge amount of paint to scrub off. I was making them all wait for my butt while we took God knows how long getting through Surprise. I'd be feeling guilty for every minute they were stuck here because of me.
So far, not driving here had just been one big pain in the ass.
The seven of us already in the waiting room were wrapping up what was probably the fifth cannibalism conversation of the day. Who in the group would be eaten first, what body part to start with, healthy stuff like that. It just kept coming up, just in case we got trapped. When news came down that the key snapped, we happily went into a sixth conversation. Ignore the subject matter: this was just one more aspect of a fun trip.
Jeralin and I had been caving for several years, but getting locked in was new to us. It was obviously new to the new people, and they were handling it great. Andreas and Gus even went up to the gate to take a crack at the situation. I wanted to check out the lock myself, but I didn't want to ditch the new people.
I was in personally in lousy shape for any sort of extended cave stay. I was wearing a single layer of long underwear, soaking wet gloves, and one elbow pad. Equipping three people out of my tub left me wearing half of my normal cave outfit.
My food and water were also tapped out. The three granola bars I brought in were long since eaten. Even my big two-liter Nalgene bottle had just a few ounces left.
I wasn't worried about food or water, since I drove in with Bob Cohen. He had to wait for me to come out, so he had to be still parked at the cave site (half a mile from the cave entrance). It wouldn't mean we'd be getting out immediately, but he'd be able to pass food and water through the gate once he knew about us. Hot pizza passed through the gate was sounding pretty good.
(I casually told this to the people in the waiting room, but neglected to shout it up to Jeralin. She spent a frantic fifteen minutes sure that no one would visit the entrance until next week.)
Çois went into an aggressively friendly mode. His bountiful food stash was passed around, and we all ate beef jerky, Rice Krispie Treats and dried fruit. He passed out food with a sugary smile that'd kill a diabetic.
It was working. Everyone was cheerful, even during this. If this was just cavers, there'd be non-stop cursing, but Çois was turning it into a catered party. He reminded me of a flight attendant during a hijacking.
Maneuvering through in my current get up was the biggest hassle. The polypro was snagging on things that the thick fabric of the coveralls would hook over. A few times I had to stop so my shirt or pants didn't get pulled off me. The lack of kneepads also made me slow and deliberate in crawls, but with a ten person beginner trip, I was never the slowest one.
We found our way to the Lake Room, which was missing a lake. Surprise was very dry; the stream up by the entrance was missing in action. It was nice to not have cold drops of water hit you in the back every twenty seconds.
At the far end of the Lake Room are the Sand and Coffin crawl, a tight passage that connects up with other parts of the cave. At one end you're crawling through sand; on the other, it feels like you're in a coffin. I had gone through it my first cave trip, but my current thinking was that this wasn't for everyone this trip. Shital, George and George's friends went through, aided by Çois, while Jeralin led the rest of us to a connecting room. Some people took longer than others to squeeze through. "I've never been so proud to be a lanky, skinny bastard," Chris said.
We exited back through a small passage with some water in it. The first people through saw a frog in it. This naturally led to debates about who'd win in a fight, the crawfish or the frog. The frog had the size advantage, but the crawfish had weapons. Hey, if we got hungry, we could have a Cajun feast.
Cave time always seems to speed up. I had figured it was 4:30. Çois's watch said 6:30. We had been underground much longer than I thought.
I had a garbage bag in my helmet, and for the first time I had occasion to use it. Poke a neck in the bottom, put it on like a sweater, and instant heat retention pouch.
The grotto helmets the new cavers were using didn't have garbage bags. Beginner caves are picked expressly so this doesn't happen. Çois pulled out a Mylar space blanket for Jeff and Cindy. George and his friends leaned against each other's backs. I made a mental note to stick a garbage bag in the grotto helmets when we got out of here.
I heard about other Surprise lock-ins where people had wormed their way around the gate. Jeralin was the best candidate for fitting through somewhere, so that played in our favor. (I did not realize that the wormed-through space in the gate had been packed with concrete-and rebar.)
I could see a couple timelines play out. We could be out in a few minutes, with some luck from the lock. We could be out in a few hours, if Jeralin could worm her way out of the gate and flag down the people in the parking lot. Or we could be here all night, bashing the lock off.
I was going to feel awful if this led to any long term stay. I didn't want to get new people trapped in a cave, much less my brother and future sister -in-law. How was I going to explain this to Mom? I didn't expect anyone to be seriously hurt by this, but who knew how ten people would react to possible hypothermia? In July, of all times.
It was hard to move in the poncho, since I had my pack on my back. Jeff and Cindy were sitting on the ground, and I said they could sit on my pack to avoid the rock sapping body heat. I then spent a very stupid minute looking for my pack, all the while annoyed that I couldn't move too well in this poncho.
Cindy thought it was funny. At least spirits were high.
We had the ability to make the climb safe, so we did. Jeralin lowered some rope from the top of the pit, and François tied it securely around the people climbing.
No one wanted to linger around the bottom of the cable ladder pit, since someone had the bad manners to take a dump there. The stream wouldn‚t be washing it away any time soon. It's just common sense that, if you've got to relieve yourself in a cave, you go to a low traffic area.
Andreas, Cindy, George and Chris went up the Bypass, partly to save time and partly to avoid the skinny swaying cable ladder. The Bypass bypasses the cable ladder pit through a pile of rocks accurately described as a Jar of Marbles. They came back down a few minutes later. There were too many potential turns.
I went back up with them, confident that as the most experienced caver I could find the right way. I found several dead ends, polypro snagging all the way. I had never done route finding on the Bypass before. All I needed was a little time, and I'd get my flock out. With five of up poking heads in various side passages, Chris eventually found the toaster slot that got us out of the bypass.
We still made better time than the ladder folk. Waiting for everyone else to get up the ladder, and then derigging the ladder, gave the new people first hand experience with why vertical trips always take so long.
Steve Cohen was looking to oil the lock when he came upon Jeralin and the broken key. Steve (and most all of the Met trip) had stuck around for the NNJG to come out of the cave. Andreas had a Leatherman with him, with needle nose pliers. The oil and the pliers got the broken key out. I've been a firm believer in the Swiss Army Knife, but maybe the Leatherman had its good points.
Bob Cohen (no relation) had an extra key. He was wandering around the woods, but was found and hustled over to the entrance. He carefully inserted his key, turned it, and the lock opened.
Word got shouted down to us that we were free. It was great to hear, but almost disappointing. The way Çois was treating us, we'd have hours of luxury treatment before the reality of being trapped in a cave hit. Hell, we only had the ponchos on ten minutes.
It was pure dumb luck that the key snapped off for a beginner's trip, but everyone handled themselves admirably. Jeralin worked the problem at the gate, while Çois kept morale high. No one freaked out, thanks to Çois (except Jeralin, but that was my fault). They're two of the best people to get trapped with.
Bob was obligated to stick around, since I drove in with him. Otherwise, he might have left when the Met cleanup trip ended, along with his shiny unbroken key. Fate worked out this trip. Thank God I wanted to save gas.