Lava River Ice Cave

Had the plot all figured out in advance. I'd go into the cave unaccompanied, my path light-ed only by the weak beacon of a small pocket flashlight. Then, when I figured I'd walked to the cave's deepest, darkest recess, I'd turn off the light and for 10 or 15 minutes sit alone in absolute dark-ness. I had read about experiments in sensory deprivation, so I antici-pated that, sightless and alone in the cave's black void, my other senses would be tuned to a finer acuity. Like supersensitive antennae atop my rotating head, my ears would detect the flutter of bats' wings, the monotonous dripping of water, the scurry-ing of tiny rodent feet, the clink of stone on stone as small rock shards, loos-ened by the seepage, dropped from the cave's ceil-ing down to the floor. That would surely be spooky, wouldn't it? Would I feel slight panic and flip the light back on? Or, over-whelmed by claustrophobia, would I dash for the cave's entrance?

Now, lights out, I'm sitting alone in tarry darkness on a big rock slab about halfway through the three-quarter-mile-long Lava River Cave in the Coconino National Forest near Flagstaff. And it's not work-ing. I'm not scared, not in the least. Enveloped by an almost palpable blackness, what I feel instead is a curious intimacy with my sur-roundings. Curious, because while the light was on I had felt out of place, disoriented. Descending into the mouth of the cave, I stumbled and bumped a knee on boulders slippery with ice. I twisted on my small flashlight, but its wan beam was useless in the gray light. I blundered along, my depth perception completely thrown off kilter in this narrow, dark tube. Wearing a wool cap, insulated gloves, and down-filled jacket, I felt overheated and a bit agitated although the tempera-ture hovered near freezing. A single bead of sweat slid down my spine.

Now my light has been off for several minutes. I remove my heavy gloves and loosen the snaps on my jacket to ventilate body heat. I relax and listen. Water drips nearby. Soon I begin to hear a pattern. It's soothing.

DISCOVER THE LAVA RIVER ICE CAVE IN FLAGSTAFF COUNTRY

The drops and puddles they fall into make musical notes, and the intervals between establish a pleasing rhythm. I fumble to flip on my micro-cassette recorder, and the glow of its tiny red operating light, which I'd hardly ever noticed before, seems a familiar beacon, a glowing millimeter-size ember in this cold, dank place. I strain to hear rustling sounds. There are none, nor are there any flutterings of bats' wings.

Although I saw no bats, others report having seen a few in Lava River Cave. And scat dropped on the floor and along the walls indicates that (OPPOSITE PAGE) In the Lava River Cave near Flagstaff, Peter Ensenberger rests on a slab of rock in the big room where the cave's single tunnel splits into two passageways for a short distance. The cave, or lava tube, was formed 700,000 years ago by the cooling of molten lava from a nearby volcano.

porcupines and squirrels are among the mammals that occasionally enter the cave, along with crickets and beetles. From time to time, animal carcasses are discovered in the cave. Did they enter the cavern and lose their way? One wonders.

There's absolutely no way I could get lost. Lava River Cave is a single shaft except for one place about a third of the way in where the cavern splits into two passageways that reconnect after a short distance. Even if I dropped and broke my two flashlights (yes, I did have a backup, a powerful maglight stowed in my day pack), I could grope my way back to the cave's entrance, crawling on all fours in the dark. Not a pleasant prospect, but it could be done, easily.

Created approximately 700,000 years ago when molten lava erupted from a near-by volcano, Lava River Cave is actually a tube formed when a river of lava cooled on the top and bottom but remained molten in the middle. It's the longest lava tube in Arizona.

Don't look for stalactites and stalagmites in Lava River Cave. Those features are found in limestone caverns. What you see in this cave are unique, if less spectacular, lava formations. The floor of the cave consists of ripples and waves, frozen for all time, that quickly solidified as the molten lava cooled. The floor, ceiling, and walls are covered with fissures formed as the lava cooled, hardened, and shrank. Some of these cracks are three feet deep and six inches wide. Elsewhere rocks appear to be floating in a stream of hardened lava. These rocks did, in fact, drop from the ceiling into the still molten lava river. Lavasicles, resembling small stalagmites or stalactites, formed when a blast of red-hot gas swooshed through the tube after the walls and ceiling hardened, remelting the lava surface and creating drips. These drips then cooled rapidly and hardened.

Lava River Cave existed in a delicately balanced natural state for hundreds of thousands of years before loggers working in nearby ponderosa pine forests found it about 80 years ago. Since then people have visited the cave in ever increasing numbers. In time the heat and soot of campfires, fumes from spray paints used by graffiti artists, and human litter so disturbed the cave's fragile ecology that the bats virtually disappeared. Some years ago, midnight revelers hauled a beer keg into the cave. What they didn't drink, they dumped. A bed of fungus developed in the yeasty mix which measured 20 feet in length, several feet across, and at least four feet deep.

Now the cave, managed by the Forest Service in Flagstaff, is protected. In 1991 it organized a major cleanup and restoration of Lava River Cave. Damp cold seeps into my bones from the rock slab I sit upon. Time to move on. Oddly, I feel reluctant to switch on my light. But just as I do I hear children's shouts, "Hey, someone's coming!" Simultaneously, the beams of many flashlights bear down upon me. Then an adult male voice calls, "Keep your lights down if you see someone!" I'd forgotten about the kids. Before entering the cave, I'd seen them arrive in a van driven by their teacher. Donning hard hats, they immediately headed for the cave about 20 minutes ahead of me. Having walked to the end of the cave, they are now scampering back out. Neither the uncertain footing nor the absence of bright illumination bothers any of them. My earlier problems, I conclude, were the result of presbyopia, "old eyes." "How do you like the cave?" I call over to them. "Neat," comes a chorus of replies. "Way cool," a single voice chimes in. "Kind of spooky, though."

I hail their teacher, a guy named Mike Cunningham. He brings kids into the cave daily from nearby Camp Colton. About halfway through the cave, the ceiling lowers to a few feet, a place where adults have to duck walk for about 10 yards. On their return trip, Cunningham's schoolchildren turn off their flashlights just beyond this "low-bridge" point and take 1,000 steps toward the entrance in pitch dark. "None of them ever makes the 1,000 steps," he says. "But it's fun to let them experience total darkness."

As the shouts of the kids fade, I turn and continue my walk to the end of the cave.

WHEN YOU GO

The Lava River Cave is located 18 miles northwest of Flagstaff. Rangers recommend that anyone wanting to explore the lava tube carry three sources of light, wear warm clothing and sturdy shoes (plus a hard hat), and let someone know about their planned trip into the cave. For directions and other information, contact the Peaks Ranger District, Coconino National Forest, 5075 N. Highway 89, Flagstaff, AZ 86004; (520) 526-0866.