Carvers explore the secret world of the underground

This is the environment cavers seek - but they're not likely to tell where to find it.

Imagine a darkness so complete you can't see your hand in front of your face.

The silence is nearly as thick, disturbed only by the far-off sound of rushing water.

The ground beneath you is damp. The ceiling above is close. The walls are tight, jagged with rock.

This is the environment cavers seek - but they're not likely to tell where to find it.

Northwest Montana has plenty of caves, but cavers prefer to keep the locations hush-hush in the name of conservation.

I first found out about the secrecy that surrounds the hollows before a recent caving trip when I had to swear not to reveal the destination. Tom Hess, a seasonal employee in Glacier National Park, explained that people don't talk about caves because they're afraid visitors will damage them.

The federal government is required to be in on cave secrets, too.

The National Cave Resource Protection Act of 1988 states federal agencies are allowed to inventory and protect caves - but they can't reveal locations.

That means Becky Smith-Powell, cave specialist for Flathead National Forest, knows of some 150 caves on the Flathead. But she can't tell cave neophytes because too many visitors could destroy the underground environments.

She can offer assistance, the details of which she declines to mention, to experienced cavers who know where a particular cave is. Those people rarely spread word of the Flathead locales because they too are concerned about vandalism, she said.

But aren't caves durable considering they're made of rock?

"They may be rocks, but they still can be broken off and busted up," said Kalispell caver Bill Yarus during a phone interview.

Smith-Powell says visitors must abide by the leave-no-trace credo, especially because caverns and their rock formations take thousands or millions of years to form. The motto of various caving groups is, "Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time."

With that in mind, I swore to my friends to say only that we hiked to a cave on the northeast side of Glacier. Hess heard about the cave from fellow employees.

We had a hand-drawn cave map, but it didn't much help.

Caves tend to disorient people, Smith-Powell said. Cavers should have a good map (better than the chicken scratch we had) or should mark their route with a removable marker such as string.

We came to the cave. Two of our group, seasonal park workers Daniel Brewster and Leslie Haworth, checked out the entrance.

"No, this isn't it," they announced.

It didn't look like the map, and the fit was too narrow, they said. But after scanning the area, we determined this hole was it.

Caverns with vertical openings are more common in Northwest Montana than those with walk-in or crawl-in entries. The Flathead has a cave ranked the world's 14th deepest, Smith-Powell said. But vertical entries, she said, are best left to people with mountain climbing skills.

The only skills we needed were those involving wiggling. The group donned clothes that could get wet and muddy and crawled into what Smith-Powell calls "a different frontier" unlike anything above ground.

None of us were squeamish about the tight fit.

"If you're claustrophobic," Yarus said, "don't do it."

After a few feet,we needed our lights. Three sources per person is recommended, as are kneepads, helmets and gloves.

Haworth and Brewster led the way, while I held the middle. Hess and Inter Lake photographer Chris Jordan took up the back.

Before long we found the source of the water we'd heard. A slow trickle ran along the bottom of the cave, the ceiling of which varied in height from just inches above our heads when on hands and knees to well over 40 feet.

As the frigid water sluiced through the cavern, we saw where years and years of that coursing had worn down the rocks.

The trickle widened into a stream, filling the cave floor. We braced our arms and legs against the walls and straddled the stream. The deeper we got into the cave, the more water there was, the roar blocking out our voices.

Caves are subject to flooding, so Yarus recommends caving in the summer and fall. Winter is sketchy, he said, because animals might use the caves.

Smith-Powell said most animals don't hibernate in caverns because temperatures stay in the 30s year round. But cavers should be careful if they find signs of inhabitants.

We found nothing but a bone in the cave entrance.

As we moved through the cave, I marveled at the rock formations. The walls were textured, from smooth to jagged. Some had the color and look of running a fork across chocolate frosting.

We found a 30-foot waterfall that poured off rocks and dumped into a small pool. The fall wasn't very wide, but it was enough to be impressive.

We knew from the otherwise worthless map that this was as far as we should go. It was time to head back.

Cavers need to keep track of time, Smith-Powell said.

"Don't cave so long that you tire yourself out mentally," she said.

Being physically tired, she said, can lead cavers to mental fatigue, when they are more apt to get lost.

We had a few moments of, "Is this the way?" but we made it out with no problem. I admit I was relieved to see the sun and to have made the trip with no mishaps.

The guys whooped with excitement, and I think we all were proud to have explored a frontier few people see.

We hiked out and later called a friend to say we were back. Regardless of how secretive cave locations might be, Yarus and Smith-Powell said cavers should leave information on where they'll be and when they'll return.

Caving isn't for everyone, given the damp, dark, tight spaces that are suitable for bats, rats and spiders.

"It's a whole other world under there," Smith-Powell said.

But caverns seem to have an intrigue for people interested in exploration, rock formations and natural history, Yarus said.

Those interested in the science aspect of caves prefer to be called cavers, Smith-Powell said. The title of spelunker is reserved for people who use caverns for recreation rather than science, she said.

Everyone in our group agreed we would cave again - but we would use a better map or go with experienced cavers.

The best way to get into caving is to join a grotto, Smith-Powell. Montana has two that she knows of, in Helena and Missoula, and their information can be found online. Many clubs, according to caving Web sites, welcome new members and are happy to share their secrets and safety tips with people interested in caving and conservation.

The cave we visited might be considered a secret, but it's one that I'm glad to keep in the interest of conservation.