A full moon peeks over the horizon as I step back on the canvas
serving as rope protection and covering Armageddon’s edge. Sweat drips
from my forehead as clumsy, over-worked hand attempts to clip my safety
line. A deep sigh pauses an endless moment of courage, determination and
strength. Instinctively I know none of us will stand at this very same
spot tonight and claim nothing has changed. Armageddon has seeped into
our lungs with every breath, rushed into our veins and nestled itself in
our cells. We are transformed.
A long dusty
road snakes through the barren landscape leading to the infamous
Armageddon. Winter is still prevalent in this area with rolling yellow
brown fields stretching to the horizon. A long, narrow strip of hills
follow our progression with anticipation. After a few right and left
turns we make our way up a slight rise. A blackened field signifies a
raging fire not too long ago and I can’t help to think it quite fitting.
The dust settles when the last vehicle finds a parking spot. I watch in
my rear view mirror as the edge of Armageddon becomes visible. The
sinkhole seems much smaller than I anticipated. Muffled, cheerful
chatter from the rest of the group moves me to open my car door. The day
has just become significant.
Slowly gear is
being inspected, adjusted and donned. A few of us walked to the edge to
find some clarity on depth and an insane idea of how we’re going to
attempt this. A contraption reminding me of an oversized calliper stood
at the edge with a rope running in the middle of its silver legs,
stretching from the Landrover to a Ford Ranger parked on the other side
of the gaping hole. Watching with interest, my fuddled mind refused to
comprehend what we were about to do. My idea was more along the lines of
abseiling down the side, but the truth of this specific cave becomes
vivid when it is explained that the sides are too unstable. John works
quietly to secure the rigging.
By now the whole
group was standing around to see what was happening. A deafening sound
when metal hits metal tears through the quiet morning when John lets go
of the rigged pulley and it abruptly stops in the middle of the hole. A
few nervous giggles and immediate word mash up allows the more
experienced cavers to pull the Mickey out of this situation. A few
laughs later it is time to get serious. David is first. He threads the
line into his stop, link his safety to the safety loop and lowers
himself to the middle slowly by letting go of the rope leading to the
Landrover. From there it is fairly easy. A few gear checks and then,
after unlinking the safety, he descends and disappears from our view.
Quiet, controlled and fairly quickly we get the ‘Rope Free’ call. Next
one... And another... Somewhere in this moment I started to lose my
nerve. All the what-ifs of a million scenarios simultaneously created a
personal hell through which I had to find a way. I decided to jump at
the opportunity to go down next.
Standing at the
edge, I took note of my surroundings. The wasteland around me seemed
more friendly that this hole. The brown red soil had big holes and
crevasses, probably from water in the raining season. It stretched down
to what seemed to be a rock face. My eyes darted back a few leafless
bushes surrounding the entrance. A few encouraging words from behind
became a soft whisper as the wind brushed past me. I turned to Steven,
begging him to come with me. This was totally an impulse thing because I
knew and understood it will be my journey into Armageddon and mine
alone. I was shaking badly and asked him to lower me to the middle. I
did my gear checks, unhooked my safety and slowly started my descent. My
eyes stayed fixed on the edge.
A green glow
from below caught my attention. I looked down and Armageddon had me at
that very first hello. Ferns were growing abundantly on the sheer
cliffs. It seemed like a spirally edge, snaking lazily from the bottom
towards the top, became the perfect place for them. I was awestruck. It
was like walking into a rainforest with the coolness enveloping me and
the fresh, earthy smell that filled my nostrils. The stream-like sound
of running water comforted me into a state of tranquillity. Calm and at
ease I finally made it to the bottom. The steep slope was not something I
prepared for. What made it even worse was the loose gravel. Moving from
one place to the next required some planning, but even that failed at
some points when footing became bumming. I soon realised that this would
be the norm for the rest of the day.
The slope
disappeared into utter darkness further down where a huge gap in the
sinkhole wall awaited our somewhat careful entrance. The very first
chamber is impressive to say the least. The slope continues down and
with a few intuitive moves and slides you make it down relatively easy.
Going down the right side of the entrance has a few hidden obstacles. We
came across quite a few off cuts of barbwire which would be easily
avoided if the slope was not as slippery and rocky. A few tyres also
found their way down. The slope on the left side is a quick slide down,
but I think you have to know it well enough to attempt it. Standing at
the bottom and looking back, the slope could easily be 20m to30m high.
Our first stop is the most amazing stalagmites, formed from magnesium.
I’ve never had the privilege of being a witness to something this great.
Shiny black and almost like flowstone, covering parts of the boulder.
We moved on, climbing over huge boulders, watching every step because of
loose rocks. It’s like this cave did everything possible to protect
itself from peering eyes. The cave floor is strewn with razor sharp
rocks and I have found many looking stable enough to step on, but waving
arms and grasping at surrounding (just as loose rocks) to prevent a
sure fall. The climbs are high, the slopes just as intimidating.
At one point Rick triumphantly said something and everybody scrambled
over the scattered rocks to get to him. I followed suit. It turned out
to be Gerrie’s little lava lamp. The smoky white column of what seems to
be a stalactite and the size of a litre bottle, stood upright on a huge
boulder. It was found on the floor and placed there. Steven shone his
light through it and revealed an amazing jewel. The top part was cobalt
blue and bled into green at the lower parts. Irene asked if we could
have a moment to eat and refresh before we continued.
We were nearing the first pit. There was a rope rigged from one side of
the gaping hole to the other on the right side, hugging the wall
tightly. A small ledge, just big enough for one foot became our way of
passing the hole. With a safety clipped onto the rope, one by one we
moved past this obstacle. A few metres on and we were standing at the
precipice of a 20m gap. Our way over would be via a pulley system and a
rope, spanning from one side to the other. Obviously some of us had some
self-convincing to do at this point. I for one has never done anything
like this, but Rick guided us through this. After being linked up to the
pulley you fall off the edge. The rope slopes down and you climb hand
over hand, pulling yourself over to the other side. I was not surprised
to find another torturous slope and the ever present loose rocks on the
other side. Luckily Steven and a few of the group were already on the
other side and a few pulls assisted me up the little slope.
Thinking that we’ve nailed it that thought evaporated at the sight of a
40m gap we have to cross next. A shiny silver cable dissipated into
blackness as it gave safe passage to the other side. Standing on a pile
of rocks, just as stable as the rest of this cave, you hook yourself up
to the pulley and off you go. It turned out to be fun filled ride, but
of short duration. Nearing the other side you have to turn your body and
get your feet on the side to prevent a sure collision. A Few metres on
you have to turn to the other side and do the same.
As we progressed, I could hear the anticipation in Rick’s voice of our
next chamber. All he could say was “just wait, you’ll see”. You don’t
see this chamber. You experience it. The first impression is something
like a void. The size of this chamber nullifies any attempt to take it
in all at once. You are brought to your knees and you become one with
the darkness that surrounds you. Your light travels eons away and sees
nothing. It’s in this moment that you truly experience the raw soul of
Armageddon. In this vast chamber you find a way to yourself and realise
that life just happened to you.
We found a spot
in the centre where most of the group already gathered. It was decided
that this will be the turning point. Steven decided to push a little
further. There is always more to see. I decided to follow, but Steven’s
light disappeared quite quickly. Even though the floor seemed more walk
friendly, I realised it was just another facade when my foot disappeared
ankle depth into the soft soil. Your steps become light and with
purpose. We pushed forward. We had a time limit we had to stick to and
we wanted to get to the deepest part of this cave. Up steep slopes and
down the other side. Another big, gaping hole made for easy stepping
because if you catch a loose rock you might just end up at the bottom of
it. I remember looking up at yet another slope and realised I have to
come back this way again. I was at the verge of giving up, but decided
to push on. The hard part about these slopes is that you can’t follow
anyone. Every person going up changes the route and you have to find
your own route up. It’s like an individual thing. Dig your toes in and
crawl like a gecko. I’ve learned to use the palm of my hand to climb.
Clawing with fingers is much more risky when it comes to the amount of
loose rocks.
This part of the cave is wet and
clay covers most of the climbs. Truly inspiring when I think of what
I’ve accomplished. We met Steven on our way as he was making his way
back. He moves in these caves like a ghost. You see him and then he’s
gone. I had a bit of a slip and fell. Rick was standing in a peculiar
crack running through and exceptionally thick part of the mud. Might
this be the beginning of something great? We were basically at the
deepest part of the cave. A whopping 230m and with that thought
lingering we had to turn back.
Crossing the 3
pits weren’t as challenging as the first time. As we progressed towards
the entrance the group got away from me and Rick. We stopped to have a
look at the site that gave essence to being in the oldest cave in the
world.
The walls are made up of rows and rows
of shelves neatly on top of one another. Pressed between these shelves
is the history of earth, written in the strange formations of
degenerating dolomite, slowly turning to dust. It’s like an old
forgotten library, with mystical secrets and phenomenal revelations. A
small section of this cave, easily overlooked because of focussed
climbing, is one such place. The walls are covered in a white, bubbly
kind of formation. Rick was kind enough to stop here and explain the
absolute significance of this particular spot. It is evident that the
dolomite layer was heated rapidly and turned to liquid. The cooling
process was also fast and left an ancient message cast in stone.
Armageddon, millions of years back. It is at this very spot that the
dating for this cave was done. We were standing at a holy place of
history. A glimpse of a world, crippled and regenerating into a home for
us and that fact had me humbled. I could only stare in silence as words
were as evasive as the roof of this magnificent place.
We also found a speleothem dating back to the start of life on earth.
Shaped like a broken shell, it holds the truth of life’s intent in the
hard, rocky formation. All you can do is staring in wonder of all the
wisdom that is locked away in this seemingly uninteresting piece of
rock. It is unimaginable to comprehend the time gone by before modern
life has touched it.
We made it into the
sinkhole and the final journey up the rope sent a last few shivers down
my spine. Steven was almost at the top when we arrived and we patiently
awaited our turn. We used the time to refresh and rest. Climbing the
rope was tiring, to say the least. Dusk was the call of nature to some
bats to come out, joining the comedy of working my way up the rope. Like
Gerrie says: “One does not simply SRT up Armageddon’s sinkhole”.
Karin Human
