Once we settled into camp, we took off up the mountain towards the marble ridge in pursuit of a cave. Jason knew of this cave from a trip he took earlier in the summer with friends from High School. I had never been caving before, so I agreed to give it a shot. This cave offered a very unique and personal experience for me. Upon entering I became extremely wary, as I was a guest in this delicate and foreign place. It was dark and cold, yet in many places possessed strong winds and miraculous forms of life. There were times while caving that I felt myself being pushed to the very limit; facing fears that I did not know I had. (For example, you might not know you're afraid of heights until you are climbing around a 30 ft ravine for 30 seconds (It's also pitch black, FYI). ). When we reached the end of the cave I felt exhilarated but also incredibly small. Rubbing noses (literally) with nature as we had just done was a very humbling thing. The end of the cave opened up to a 1000 ft. sheer cliff that gave us a breathtaking view of the entire valley. Now is where my personal trial began. Somehow in my preparation and planning, I had misunderstood that this cave was the one which required us to return the same way we had come. You see, the whole time that I had been facing those frightening things, I had found solace in thinking that once I got to the end of the cave it would be over. But no. I felt like Nephi of old as I was asked to return again the way I had come and face those things which had pushed me so far and nearly led me to tears. At first I was frustrated with my husband for not specifying what would be required of us within the walls of the cave. Had I known beforehand, I might not have gone. As I pondered our circumstances, I came to realize that Jason played the role of a loving Heavenly Father here, in that he had led me so far and kept me safe the whole time. Surely he would not ask me to do something that I could not do. So, I swallowed my frustration and stepped back into the cave with tired and shaking limbs. The cave was not less scary or any easier when exiting. I felt reverenced as I realized that had I known what was in store, I would not have done it. But having had those powerful experiences, I know that it has made me better (and also helped me trust my husband more). When we got to the real end of the cave, all I could say was "I've never been so happy to see a giant whole in the ground!!" And it was completely true.
Another powerful experience we had was that evening. As we were preparing for nightfall, each of us felt prompted to change the sleeping arrangements we had. The original plan was for Jason and I to share a tiny tent and for Erik to sleep in a hamock on the other side of the campfire. Each of us felt that we should not do that, but sleep outside and right next to the fire. We kept the fire going all night to ward off any curious animals. None of us slept more than three to four hours that night, always taking turns watching the fire and keeping the pistol on hand. We heard eerie noises, gun shots, and large animals moving in the forest near the edge of our camp. I've never felt so exposed in my life. Saturday morning, after surviving the long night, Jason went to get water at a nearby creek not 300 feet from where we had been resting. He found very fresh cougar prints there, that had not been there the previous evening when we last filled our water bottles.
Also, in the early morning I saw a bear crossing a meadow that lay to one side of camp. When he saw me he was completely startled and took of running the opposite direction. He was only 200 ft from me and he had no idea we were there. It was as though a shield of protection lay around us; making creatures oblivious to our presence. But how could they have been? Surely they would have smelled three human bodies, our food, or campfire smoke? No, they did not. We were truly protected that night. I have rarely been as grateful for following the promptings of the holy ghost.
Well, those are the two intense things that happened. But the wilderness was beautiful and breathtaking. I look forward to returning again someday (with more people and probably more guns...). Till then, I will remember those experiences and how they have already helped shape me.
