Going Underground.

Monday and Tuesday were our last full days at the Lodge. Since we were on a package, we were given two more day trips that were included in our fixed price. My Mom and my Aunt are pretty adventurous ladies but they also have their limits. My mom had wanted to come river tubing since we had decided to come to Belize – apparently it is all the rage here. My aunt was pretty agreeable. I wanted to go on a raging caving adventure but we had to meet in the middle – part of the deal was that we had to go on the same excursions. So, after much deliberation we decided on two caving adventures. There are many caves in Belize because of the limestone rock that is prevalent there. Both were very different but each was unforgettable in its own way.

Caves Branch: Like I said, my mom had wanted to go river tubing since we had decided to come to Belize. When we asked for a description of this day-trip, we were told it would be ‘a relaxing float down the river with some moderate cave climbing’. Our expectations were blown from the very first moment. An ancient Belizean man named Mr. Buckley came to pick us up from Chaa. He was a tall man, with white hair and a white beard, dark skin, and he had a gift for storytelling. Before being a tour guide, he had been a member of the British Army, now he was a ‘retired’ guide slash Justice of the Peace slash driving historian. On his way through town he even stopped so we could see his house and his Guatemalan wife. He was not overly central to our cave experience, but he was by far the most interesting guide that we had while in Belize. There are only 5 highways in Belize: East, West, South, North and Hummingbird. We needed to get to the Hummingbird Highway for our adventures at Caves Branch. Caves Branch is actually also a hotel owned and operated by a Canadian named Ian Anderson. He owns the land where the caves are, so his company is the only one that can run tours. The hotel where we were put on a bus was a bit unnatural in our view – it felt like fabricated jungle. We boarded on old windowless school bus with a gaggle of annoying children who were seemingly given free reign to scream and shout. We were so far, not overly impressed. We were fitted with an inner tube, and immediately we heard the cackling laughter from a large gothic-dressed lady who I will be referring to as Bat Lady. Bat Lady thought it was hilariously funny that her husband’s enormous belly barely fit around the inner tube. We were deliberating – would it be worse to have Bat Lady or the annoying gaggle of children in our group?

As it turns out, the guide who had been driving our bus led our group. He looked young enough to be my son. We were given Bat Lady and her husband, but the kids went far in another direction. We hiked a few minutes until we reached the river and “gracefully” entered our inner tubes bottom-first. I am sure you can picture our gracefulness now!

We paddled for a few minutes down the river before we got to the mouth of the cave. We were given waterproof headlamps. What happened to the lazy river? We entered the darkness of the cave but due to the shallow waters we had to walk. What happened to the relaxing float? Our guide pointed out spiders and Bat Lady gave her ear-piercing shrieks, yet when our guide pointed out bats and grotesque bat droppings, Bat Lady spoke to them saying, “my children, my children”. I wanted to feed her to the bats to shut her up.

Our relaxing river float turned out to be quite a strenuous climb through caverns, leaving our inner tubes far below. I was worried my Aunt Diana was going to be severely regretting traveling with us for making her endure this, but she turned out to be the biggest adventure junkie of us all. She seemed very proud of herself and I am convinced she loved every second! We heard about the Mayans who used these caves long before us, and saw pottery remnants from their presence. We saw cave formations completely crystallized and other formations left from millions of years of drops of water. It was an entirely different world.

They set up a picnic in the middle of the cave, where our group (minus Bat Lady who was busy swimming with her non water-proof camera) socialized over make-your-own wraps. After, we explored a second cavern, our guide showing us an area that is believed to be a blessing in fertility due to the – ahem – fairly erotic shadows that the rock formation created.

Finally, we got to get back in our inner tubes, turned off our headlamps, and floated quietly (except for Bat Lady who refused to turn our her light and screeched the whole way) along with the current, and out of the cave. My Mom and Auntie Diana were on an adrenaline high all night from our deep dark adventure. I however, announced at dinner that I had thought of something positive about Bat Lady: she wasn’t staying at our hotel.

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Barton Creek Cave: Our excursion to Barton Creek Cave was only a few hours - an hour drive in each direction and about an hour to paddle into the cave. Our guide, a nice guy who kept calling us “his girls” (my Mom lovvvved being called a girl!) drove us from Chaa Creek in the morning. On a map, it looks like arriving at Barton Creek should take about 15 minutes, but in reality, the roads are quite treacherous and it takes over an hour. The road definitely put our cottage bumpy road to shame!

The most interesting part of the ride was passing through a traditional Mennonite community. Belize has a large population of Mennonites, both traditional and modern. In fact, the more modern Mennonite communities literally feed the entire country of Belize. On the road to Barton Creek Cave live traditional Mennonites who use horses and buggies. The men had long beards and the women fully covered their bodies in long dresses and bonnets. The children mostly ran away from our car when we went by. I tried not to stare, but it is almost impossible not to.

The cave itself is on a property owned by a Canadian or American named Mike. Quite the life he and his family have – living very isolated lives deep in the valley next to traditional Mennonites. He charges a small fee, and has a small snack and drink bar. Fire ants immediately attacked Auntie Diana and I when we got out of the car, we must have stepped on their home by accident. They certainly are fierce little guys! Our next strange animal interaction was a monkey that lives on Mike’s property. I leaned down to say hello, and he crawled right into my lap – only to start nibbling on my ankle! It didn’t hurt, it actually scared me more then anything else. But I think I’ll stay away from monkeys from now on.

We got into canoes – the person at the back had the job of paddling and steering and the person at the front held the big powerful spotlights to light up our way. In my canoe, I was paddling and Auntie Diana was shining our way. Over the next hour we paddled just over a mile into the Cave, following the twisting and turning river as it flowed. It felt like we were in a sacred place, with high ceilings, towering rock formations and complete and utter silence. It should have been scary, but it wasn’t. The rock formations were breathtaking – the hidden underground felt more like a connection with heaven then the underworld. At one point, we had to meander the canoe carefully through spikes of rock that came down low to the river, and I even needed to lie back and paddle lying down at one of the lowest points. In this cave there were human remains found from the Mayans, as well as pottery – it is considered a living archeological site so you cannot get out of the canoes and any point.

The river apparently runs another 7 miles or so, but due to fallen rocks, it is impossible to pass in a canoe. So we turned around and headed out to the light again. It felt like a completely different cave when you looked at it from a different angle.

When we reached the light, we were left in awe of the two journeys into the underground.