The Mother Lode: Exploration of the World's Most Beautiful Cave

By Ron Delano

The award winning television series “Planet Earth” described Lechuguilla Cave as follows: “Beneath this arid landscape lies a subterranean wonderland. Without water to carve them, caves seem unlikely here. But under the New Mexico desert sprawls one of the longest, deepest, and most stunning caves in the world. Its secrets remained unknown until 1986, when cavers dug through several yards of loose rock at the bottom of this pit. They named the cave Lechuguilla. Since its discovery, more than a hundred and twenty miles of passageways have been mapped. Lechuguilla is the world’s most protected cave. The reason? Some of the most exquisite formations ever seen underground.”
As one of the most important and exciting exploration stories of the last century, Lechuguilla Cave’s story deserves to told – and brilliantly illustrated photographically – in full. This is the book to do it. I am most pleased to present "The Mother Lode", the final installment of The Lechuguilla Cave Trilogy, for your consideration

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483558523

Book preview

Andrews

Part III: The Mother Lode

Chapter 21

You must be the change you wish to see in the world.—Mohandas Gandhi

High above the Pacific Ocean in a jumbo jet bound for Tokyo, Ronal Kerbo settled into his seat for the long flight ahead. He was leading a group of American cavers to China for a two-and-a-half-week expedition. Kerbo’s delegation was scheduled to meet with their Chinese counterparts, cave and karst scientists and explorers, for an exchange of presentations and scientific papers. While some original cave exploration was on the agenda, this visit was primarily a whirlwind tour of China’s show caves. He was lost in his own thoughts, gazing out the window at the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean, when he heard a familiar voice.

Hey Ron, mind if I join you for a bit?

It was Ron DeLano. With the sudden and perhaps permanent closure of Lechuguilla Cave to exploration nine months before, Lech explorers felt adrift and uncertain about their future. While many cavers were involved with other projects, DeLano’s only real focus in recent years had been Lechuguilla Cave. If the recent turn of events had taught him anything, it was that it was time to broaden his horizons and see what else was out there. Cavers learn early on to have a backup for your backup. Upon receiving an invitation from Kerbo to visit the great caves of China, DeLano jumped at the chance. With huge tracts of the country underlain by limestone and with a local population not particularly inclined to serious cave exploration, the potential for virgin discoveries appeared to be virtually limitless. There are over two thousand disappearing rivers in the country, any one of which would represent a major exploration challenge. The number of other caves in China couldn’t even be guessed at. This trip would be a great introduction to that world.

Sure, go ahead and have a seat, my friend. I’ve been meaning to have a talk with you. Kerbo held out his hand in greeting and smiled.

The two chatted for a while, and though they both stayed clear of discussing the cave closure, Lechuguilla was never far from their minds. The NSS News had recently run an article about Emily’s Spring Break, inspiring DeLano to write a letter to the editor that had been published in the latest issue. His letter¹ stated, without revealing his source², that he believed that fatigue had been one of the main contributing causes to the accident. Having such tight schedules to get in and out of the cave had regularly forced cavers to cave in a sleep-deprived condition. This specific accident occurred in the wee hours, a time when the body normally prepares for sleep, not hazardous travel. DeLano was, in essence, challenging the park’s prohibition on camping in the cave.

"Say, I read your letter in the NSS News this month," Kerbo said.

Yeeeaaah, DeLano replied hesitantly, not sure where Kerbo was going with this.

You know I have something I need to say about that.

DeLano sat quietly and braced for what was to come.

I’ve given this a lot of thought over the last year or so and can only say from the bottom of my heart, that I am sincerely sorry. It was my bias against camping in the cave that made exploration a lot harder than it needed to be for all those years, and I see now that I made a mistake in judgment. My reasons were good in that I felt this would reduce impact to the cave. But I see now that it not only added to the traffic along trade routes but also seems to have pushed people beyond their breaking point. If I had it to do over again, I would have allowed camping in the cave very early on, pure and simple. Ron, I hope you accept my apology on this. DeLano was taken aback a bit by such a simple and straightforward statement of contrition from an official in authority—but then this was Kerbo. Of course, he was relieved and thankful for Kerbo’s heartfelt communication. Smiling broadly, DeLano expressed his gratitude for Kerbo’s kind words.

About that letter you wrote way back when…. Kerbo wasted no time changing the subject.

DeLano tensed, as he knew immediately that Kerbo was talking about his scathing letter, written during the early battle over control for the cave just after the breakthrough in 1986, advising Kerbo to have nothing to do with Rick Bridges and Roy Glaser in preference for Dave Allured and John Patterson. Kerbo had a long memory, and it was obvious that he really didn’t like DeLano’s letter. He had needled DeLano about this letter now and then over the years, and DeLano knew that this was a thorn in his side. But they had never really had an in-depth conversation about it before this day. As if it were only yesterday, Kerbo expressed with great passion his reasons for including Bridges and Glaser. It was obvious he still felt strongly about it.

I know, I know. Well, we all live and learn, don’t we? DeLano replied. And I have to admit that I wouldn’t write that letter today knowing what I know now. At the time, I just wanted to write a letter of support for a friend, and I guess I just felt like Dave was getting a raw deal. I didn’t even know Rick or Roy at the time, except from what I had heard from Dave. But you know, Roy and Rick really did a great job in a way Dave Allured probably never could have, and they always did their best to make me feel welcome. I think you probably did make the right decision by inviting all four to work together, even if I didn’t think so at the time.

Well Ron, I respect that. I know it isn’t easy to admit when one makes a mistake, and I appreciate what it is you are saying about supporting a friend. I thank you for that.

No problem, DeLano replied, it’s the truth.

You know, I think this has been a very important conversation, Kerbo declared, turning in his seat toward DeLano.

I agree, DeLano concurred with a smile.

Cave exploring in Guilin Province, China. Photo by Ron DeLano

Though no one knew it at the time, the August 1991 Lechuguilla expedition would be the last expedition ever organized by the Lechuguilla Cave Project. The superintendent of the park, Wallace Elms, had personally asked to have a meeting with board member Pat Kambesis on that occasion, a strong indication that the situation was becoming very serious. On September 17, there was a face-to-face meeting between the superintendent and Rick Bridges³. The meeting ended in a stalemate. More meetings would follow. If Bridges’s December 4, 1991, letter to Elms is accurate, even after the superintendent had suspended all future LCP expeditions, Elms had still been hoping for a negotiated settlement with Bridges and the LCP as late as November. If Bridges had discreetly accepted the superintendent’s gentlemen’s agreement on this occasion, disaster could have probably been averted, and LCP could have carried on as usual in the years ahead. Although Bridges clearly stated his acceptance of this same gentlemen’s agreement a month later, he did so like a bull in a china shop. First, Elms appears to have given Bridges certain private assurances if he released the survey notes voluntarily. One doesn’t then proceed to broadcast the superintendent’s confidential backroom promises in official correspondence and expect that they would still be honored. That’s not how diplomacy works. At some point, there needs to be trust, something Bridges was apparently unable to handle. Second, Elms was aware of the fact that the Bridges was the lone dissenter on the LCP board regarding the release of these materials, even after Elms had made his eminently reasonable and generous offer. Third, the survey notes Bridges finally sent were deliberately incomplete, as the July and August 1991 expedition notes were conspicuously missing. Last, when the notes were finally delivered, they were also accompanied by a list of conditions that Bridges knew full well would be unacceptable to the park. He had been told repeatedly that the release of the survey notes was to be unconditional. The fact that these conditions were cooked up by Bridges without being discussed or voted on by the LCP board further cast him as someone not acting in good faith. In retrospect, it could be argued that this was the moment when the park realized that its working relationship with the Lechuguilla Cave Project, and, more specifically, with Rick Bridges, was beyond repair. The park’s April 30, 1992 letter terminating the memorandum of understanding between the park and LCP, was simply the formality that confirmed this realization.

Bridges had fought a brave battle. Victory, it seemed, had been within his grasp, however briefly. Yet his legacy of leadership and accomplishment has been largely overshadowed by his central role in the collapse of the Lechuguilla Cave Project. Perhaps it was Bridges’s decision not to trust the superintendent’s offer to settle this matter quietly that ultimately sealed his fate. If only he had been a little more adept in the art of compromise. If only he had taken this leap of faith. It is clear that he believed passionately in the cause that he had fought for. Whether this was the right battle to fight is perhaps open to debate. But that he is best remembered for losing this fight is not. History isn’t always kind to the vanquished, especially when they started the war.

It was a surreal moment indeed when, not long after the termination letter, cavers received a newsletter out of the blue from the LCP⁴. The newsletter was edited by Anne Strait and was brimming with happy talk and write-ups of the last few expeditions. Yet it didn’t have a single word about the political controversy or the fact that their agreement with the park had been terminated. The message seemed to be that they were carrying on as if nothing had happened. Even then, it would appear, Bridges was trying to make some kind of comeback. Rumors persisted at the time that Bridges was going to be applying for exploration permits in his own name, possibly leading to a confrontation with rival factions. This never materialized. Of course, no date was mentioned for any upcoming expeditions.

As could be expected, others involved with the exploration of Lechuguilla Cave were not sitting by idly. The first major action on their part was the petition that voiced dissatisfaction with the LCP. One hundred and twenty people signed the petition, and this list included most of the principal explorers who had been involved in the LCP. This petition was presented to the park in March, a short time before the termination letter was sent out. Did this petition have an effect on the park’s decision? LCP’s fate was probably sealed by this time anyway, but the petition probably made the park’s decision just a little easier. In the final analysis, it was Bridges’s battle to win or lose.

Years later, Bridges’s motivations were still subject to debate. Most simply assumed that he was motivated by the possibility of personal enrichment from the ownership rights to the maps of Lechuguilla. Money talks, after all. But this view is probably an oversimplification. Garry Petrie, who was as close to this situation as anyone, would maintain even years later that this was never the case. He claimed that the money from all the previous projects, such as those with National Geographic, was negligible and that Bridges was truly motivated by the issues he pushed, such as volunteer status. Perhaps the truth will never be known. It’s possible that one of these years the original survey notes, which are still in Bridges’s hands, will be sold at auction for a tidy sum. Alternatively, he could be lauded as a philanthropist for donating this important archive of twentieth-century exploration to the Smithsonian for preservation and study by future generations. As of this writing, the choice is still his.

In May 1992, immediately after the final termination letter, a small group of Lechuguilla explorers announced the formation of a new organization, LEARN. The acronym stood for Lechuguilla Exploration and Research Network. The word Network, in particular, had a friendly, cooperative ring that was key to what they were trying to convey. The official organizing committee included Donald Davis, Pat Kambesis, and other regulars. The main goal of this group was to build a new organization that would be structured so that this kind of debacle could never happen again. Specifically, there had to be a way to prevent a single strong man from ever driving the organization off the cliff. There needed to be checks and balances and term limits. There needed to be elected regional representation. There needed to be member input. It was a heady time with many ideas floating about, and plenty of debate and discussion. There was a sense that maybe they would get it right this time.

From these meetings of the organizing committee, several officers were appointed. These included treasurer, secretary, computer coordinator, and editor of the Network News. Pat Kambesis would be park liaison. A constitutional structure was drafted. Announcements were made that the fledgling organization was looking for candidates to be elected to the post of regional representative. There would be five such representatives who would constitute the new coordinating committee, the main policy-making body. The position of chair was given extra thought and consideration. In order to protect against abuse of power by a single individual, the chair would be appointed by the coordinating committee and worked at the pleasure of the committee. The chair would be limited to a two-year term, and so would the regional representatives. The position of chair was specifically conceived as the person who coordinated activities but had no decision-making authority.

The organizing committee continued their work throughout the summer, and they kept former LCP members apprised of their progress through the Network News and announcements in publications such as Rocky Mountain Caving. By midsummer they were soliciting candidates to run for the office of regional representative in an election to be held in September.

DeLano was following these developments from afar in Grand Junction. Of the original Grand Junction crew, he was now the only one still living there. Lyle Moss had moved to Texas, and Don Kluever had managed to save enough money to buy Neil Markovitz’s wilderness Idaho ranch. Kluever had been joined there by some young people who were devotees of the wild-west-mountain-man culture and survival skills—perfect for Kluever’s low-tech approach to life. They were living as best they could off the land just as the Indians had. Kluever was now truly living off the grid.

DeLano, like all Lechuguilla cavers, had been badly shaken by the recent events. More than anything, he was struck by a pervasive sense of insecurity regarding future access to the cave. Now more than ever, access could never be taken for granted—never. It had been over a year since his last Lechuguilla expedition, and there was still no word when, or even if, exploration would resume.

He knew that Denver was the place where things were really happening, but this was too far to visit often. Even so, he now regretted his decision not to get involved with the LCP leadership early on. He had made a conscious decision to keep a low profile and just be a good explorer. Power and recognition never really interested him. But when the LCP blew up in their faces, he decided the time was right to get into the fray. Perhaps, just perhaps, he might be able to prevent another great conflict and cave closure. Short of that, he hoped his efforts would at least lay a foundation to keep exploration on track in the years ahead.

DeLano’s decision to run for regional representative was motivated by the goal of seeing LEARN succeed. For him, this meant securing regular and reliable access to the cave for exploration. First and foremost, LEARN needed to be an advocate for cave exploration. It appeared self-evident that the best way to do this was to run expeditions that were well organized and well prepared, to man the expeditions with good people who could make strong contributions to exploration and survey, to build a dedicated core of participating members, and to make good progress on the important work the park service wanted, namely quad maps. Common-sense stuff.

In September, DeLano received word that he had been elected to a two-year term as regional rep for the Rocky Mountain Region. Of course, this didn’t count for too much, considering that LEARN still didn’t have any permits to explore Lechuguilla. Everyone was still acting on faith alone at this point. Soon after receiving this news, he accepted an invitation to meet with the organizing committee in Denver. On a cold October day, he drove over the mountains and pulled up to the house of Bill Yett and Pat Jablonsky. They were an older couple who were a regular fixture of Denver’s caving community. They had been active in organizing two big projects: the dig at Big Manhole Cave, Lechuguilla’s closest neighbor and another cave with strong airflow, and the annual cave-lint cleanup camp along the Carlsbad Cavern tourist trail, a very successful conservation project. The living room was already well-filled when DeLano came in. His old friend Donald Davis was there, as well as other familiar faces from the Lechuguilla project such as Pat Seiser and Steve Reames. These people had all been working hard together to come up with their organizational structure for LEARN, and they were keen on explaining all the details to DeLano. With the many negative comments that the park had expressed about the LCP in mind, they were looking for ways to avoid them in the new organization. LEARN was conceived from the very beginning as an organization that the park could work with.

Everything DeLano heard that night made sense and seemed well thought through. But while it was hard to put a finger on it, but there was something of a nervous edge to the meeting. This was perhaps because, for many, this was their first look at the new regional representative, and so many of their hopes and aspirations were riding on him and the other regional reps. More likely than not, they were just apprehensive that their good efforts would be in vain. There were no guarantees in this endeavor.

The good news finally arrived in December 1992⁵. The park announced that LEARN was awarded up to six expeditions for 1993, with a strict limit of twenty people on each. In addition, a small number of private expeditions might be allowed. A wave of relief and excitement rippled through the Lechuguilla community, and preparations immediately began for the upcoming LEARN expeditions. With its work now complete, the LEARN Organizing Committee disbanded.

One other major change was also announced. Camping would be now allowed, not just in the Far East, but at newly designated sites in all branches of the cave. This one change would alter forever the way exploration would be conducted in Lechuguilla Cave. For explorers, this was very good news indeed.

As DeLano prepared for the first conference call with the rest of the coordinating committee, he knew that the first order of business would be selection of members for the upcoming expeditions. When LCP expeditions ran fifty, sixty and even seventy people, most people who asked to go on an expedition would probably get a chance, eventually. In the past, it was members of the LCP board who decided who was invited on a given expedition. While not ever being stated explicitly, selection seemed to be on a merit-based system. If you did good work as a productive explorer in the cave or made a significant contribution to surface activities such as cartography, safety planning, or administration, you were in. Since there had been no large collection of previous explorers when the LCP began, there had been ample opportunities for newcomers to join, at least in the beginning. Even those cavers who didn’t rise to the top would have their chance, just not as often. A handful of cavers were deselected for various reasons.

The situation in 1993 was very different. The people who were now experienced in the cave numbered in the hundreds. The organizing committee went back and forth debating who would be accepted as a member eligible to participate in expeditions. At first, it was proposed that only those who had signed the petition would be invited as charter members. Later, this was expanded to all previous LCP members. Additional members had to be sponsored⁶. With the airing of Mysteries Underground, interest in exploring Lechuguilla had soared nationwide. Including sponsored members new to the cave, there were soon over three hundred cavers in LEARN, and with at most 120 available expedition slots during the coming year, it would be impossible to accommodate the full demand. It was easy to see that selecting expedition personnel would be the most pressing problem for the fledgling organization.

Shortly before the conference call, DeLano learned that Pat Seiser had volunteered for the position of the LEARN chair. DeLano welcomed Seiser’s candidacy as chair wholeheartedly and expected that the rest of the coordinating committee would unanimously approve her appointment. They had been friends going back to the first year of LCP. She was outgoing, cheerful, and ever enthusiastic about cave exploration—in short, a welcome addition to the LEARN’s policy making body.

DeLano picked sup the phone.

Hi Ron, Pat Seiser here.

Hey, how’s it going? Looks like we’re in business after all, DeLano replied excitedly.

Sure looks that way! Her voice was brimming with enthusiasm. You know we have a conference call coming up in a few days, and I just wanted to touch base with all the reps.

Sounds good.

With these expeditions coming up we have a lot to talk about.

For sure.

Anything you would like to discuss at the meeting? queried Seiser.

Well, there’s always been the question of who gets to go in the cave. Looking at the numbers, less than half the members will get to go in this year. So I think we need to talk about expedition selection first and foremost.

I agree.

You know we have almost a dozen officers and five reps, not to mention the organizing committee. So the question is, Do we want to reward the people who have been working hard for LEARN in the expedition selection process?

Pat shot back her answer instantly. The fury in her voice was as piercing as it was unexpected. "Ron, you