Short But Sweet: Lost Hollow

During the winter of 1975, I spent a great deal of time poring over topographical maps of the local caving region. Across the river, to the north, we knew of a number of large chambered caves, often with crumbling Saint Peter Sandstone ceilings and walls, but to our knowledge, none were extensive.

While closely examining the "X" quad, I noticed a large, multiple contour depression, tucked away in a corner of the map. It looked to be several hundred feet long and over 50 feet deep, hidden away in the pine forest. The map showed unpaved roads and trails to the sink.

With the goal of finding the recondite sink, Doña Cuevas and I took the ferry across the river on a cold January day in 1976. We got the best directions we could locally, but after driving down the stream valley and up a rougher ride onto the ridge flanks, we became turned around on the trail.

We had been traversing the base of a small sandstone mesa, but in the wrong direction. We soon realized our error, and set off in the other direction. This overgrown unpaved trail half circled the pine forested mountain. In fifteen minutes or less of easy hiking, we crested the low side of a large sink.

The sink is about 400 feet long by 125 feet wide, and with a depth of about 50 feet at the sandstone headwall.

There were at least 3 stream beds entering the sink, but only the left or northern one was active at the time. The water cascaded over the sandstone walls of the sink and sank into piles of boulders, debris and jammed logs. These hinted at the force of the water entering the sink in wet weather. Best of all is a 25 foot high, Gothic arched cave entrance under the headwall. Steamy air wafted out into the frosty January day.

We took small flashlights for a quick look inside. Although we expected little from caves in the St. Peter Sandstone, this seemed more promising.

We stepped inside, where the warmer moist air of the cave quickly fogged my glasses, and although my view was obscured, I knew that it was worth a detailed look with better lighting.

We loaded and fired our carbide lamps and entered again.

The entrance passage was easy walking on a rough gravel floor. After less than 100 feet, the ceiling briefly descended, but a short jog to the right, then left again led to a continuing passage of increasing ceiling height.

We abruptly came to a climbable drop down. This was about 6 feet and easily accomplished. A few yards beyond the foot of the climbdown, a narrow crack opened along the length of the floor. I dropped a rock and  a large splash resounded seconds later.

That was as far as we were able to go that day. We didn't feel confident in our abilities to drop this pit on our own. The vertical gear was back at the car, 3/4 mile away. Moreover, almost no one knew where we were.

Although the entrance passage had been visited by others, we knew of no one else who'd been down the pit. We were very excited by this find, and we made plans with our caving friends back in Springfield, MO to join us for a descent of the pit the next weekend.

We gathered a crew of cavers experienced in vertical work.
When we arrived at the crack in the floor, the rappel rope had to be rigged so that it would pass through a wider space in the crack. Even so, the crack was just big enough to slip through. (Later, we found other means of rigging that made an easier descent and ascent.)

Just below was a horizontal tube in which one could just stand before dropping the pit. Neil Lennon went first, The canyon drops 94 vertical feet and the waist deep pool at the base was avoidable by pendulum maneuvers on the rope.

I followed him, on the exhilarating rappel, and he pulled me over to the beach when I was 25 feet above the "lake". The others followed.

When we all were gathered on the shore, we began our exploration of the stream canyon of Lost Hollow Cave.

We scrambled over long blocks of slippery breakdown, under which the stream coursed. On that and other early visits, the lake and the stream were home to dozens of blind, white salamanders. Later they were not seen. That may be the result of pollution from camp litter nearby.

At first, the black walled canyon like passage was barren of speleothems. Then, at a point several hundred feet downstream, rock terraces led up into spectacular formation galleries. I have only one photo of the cave. It is of a huge "elephant ear" or "bacon" curtain in the upper terraces, some 30 to 40 feet above the stream course, if my memory serves me.

Kenrick Day photo of the author at the Elephant Ear

There were more glorious speleothems; glistening pagodas of calcite, sheets of flowstone and other curtain formations.

We had had great expectations for this cave. Unfortunately, they were not to be realized, for as the ceiling rose again to a great height, the rushing stream lazily swirled into an oval pool and vanished. The mysterious outlet of the pool seemed to be at the bottom, 13 feet below the surface. The dry passage ended in a very high wall seemingly closed with impenetrable sediments. Higher overhead, a crack in the ceiling could be dimly seen. To attempt to climb it would be a dauting experience

Later, the entire cave was surveyed to a total length of around 2,200 feet. I don't know the depth, but a guess might be 180 feet; not much on the world scale, but nevertheless impressive for Arkansas. It was short, sweet and memorable.

CAVERS! If you have any photos or maps of Lost Hollow Cave, I would be pleased to post a select few here. Credits will be given, and no locations will be revealed.

Interlude: With a Little Help From My Friends 1

I've entered a quiet period in my passion for writing my caving memoirs. I need to do some thinking about how to proceed along the best route ahead.

Fortunately, with a little help from my friends, I can post some additional observations on past events. First up is this edited email from Rodney Tennyson, an old friend from back in the 70's.

Janus Pit, Part 4. Scooping

"You are at one end of a vast hall stretching forward out of sight to

the west.  There are openings to either side.  Nearby, a wide stone

staircase leads downward."

From Adventure, the caving game, by Will Crowther and successors.

Janus Pit, Part 4

Scooping

May 14, 1978 

In our previous episode, 3 cavers, Larry Houston, R.C. Schroeder and myself were poised to make a lustful scooping trip into the newly discovered Odyssey Series of Janus. Robert Handford, who’d actually made the breakthrough the previous weekend, was in Austin, TX and could not join us. Our intentions were honorable, but our lust for virgin cave took over our feeble consciences and we were captives.

Janus Pit Part 3: The Early History Retold

I have received extensive comments from Robert Handford and from Mike Hill. Mike was the first person to descend Janus Pit.
Because of their significant role in the discovery and exploration of the cave and of Flitterin' Pit, I have given them their own collaborative space here. I have exercised the Editor's privilege where I felt it aided the flow of the story. —Don Cuevas, aka Mike Warshauer

Robert writes:

"Discovery of the Odyssey series in Janus Cave ranks up there at the top among the greatest of my caving adventures, only just below some significant discoveries I participated in during my early Blanchard days. I was living in Austin, TX at the time and had never met Michael before that weekend trip. I left Austin on Friday and drove all afternoon and into the night to Stone County. All that I knew was that somehow and somewhere near Janus, I needed to meet Mike at a specified hour on Saturday morning. I just pulled off the dusty road not far from the cave and slept in the back of my stationwagon. The next morning...there came Mike and others kicking up the dust in a pick-up truck and when they spotted an obvious caver, they hit the brakes and we met.

Michael is right that I had been to Janus before - in May, 1970, to be exact, with my old friend Mike Hill. Mike and I descended the pit and walked downstream to the "baffle" crawl. We probably went upstream a bit, too, but I don't recall how far.* On the same day, Mike Hill took me to Flitterin' Pit, which is one of the most impressive open air pits in Arkansas. It even reminds me of some TAG pits. So, years later when I hooked up with Michael Warshauer and arrived at Janus, I told him about my earlier descent of Janus and Flitterin', both of which (had been) nameless, I think.

After entering Janus, Michael, Alexia and I went downstream to the crawl and I recall that Michael referred to it as the "ear washer". As Michael and Alexia probed the sump, I decided to poke around in the breakdown overhead. The resulting discovery was almost immediate and simple. The most difficult part was to curl the body to go over, down and back up a curious chock of rock in the breakdown that Michael named the "curling iron". Get the picture? The black void that I encountered just above the curling iron echoed with my screams. I hadn't seen virgin Arkansas cave in quite a few years, or at least a chamber with the "Blanchard-size" dimensions that I was staring at.

The 600 mile distance from Austin to Janus plus family and job obligations prevented me from returning to area quickly enough to help with the exploration. So, I couldn't expect Michael to not return to Janus to continue the push into virgin cave. Of course, I was a bit sad but also realistic. Heck, I wouldn't have waited either for more than a week if I had been in the same position. I will never forget that my very first caving trip with Michael Warshauer was a most auspicious beginning to my return to Arkansas caving and the beginning of a wonderful friendship that has spanned 4 decades."

Robert also wrote: 

"Here's a comment passed on to me by Mike Hill, the first person to descend Janus."

Mike Hill:

"My first trip (ca. 1970) was a run down there to recon the pits and to make sure my guides knew what they were talking about. I had made dry runs there before. I had no caving gear and had met the guys who were going with me at the local auto parts store.  On the way out the door, I picked up a partial roll of 5/16 braided nylon and told the owner I'd pay him for it if I used it.

We arrived at what is now called Janus pit and I was somewhat disappointed, as I could see "bottom" about 40 feet below. There appeared to be a crevice at one side, so I thought I might as well check it out.  I had three guys with me, all non-cavers, who agreed to pull me back up if went down. One of them handed me a long 6-cell flashlight on a strap and I unrolled the nylon rope and doubled it, tied it off on an old log and body rappelled to the "bottom". Once there, I tossed a rock into the dark hole behind me, but never heard it hit bottom. Not unusual, if a shaft is full of dead leaves. My gut told me to stay on line, but I didn't have enough line. I told the guys above to untie and give me some more rope. When it slacked, I rigged a makeshift seat sling and began to back down into the crevice. When my full weight was on the line, I swung out backwards and aimed the six-cell downward!  I need not explain to veteran Janus Pit Cavers what my rear end was doing the next few seconds.  I still cringe at the thought of hanging over that precipice on a glorified hay string!

Lacking experienced caving buddies and proper vertical equipment, I returned later equipped with the old Blanchard hand winch and 300 feet of 3/8" steel cable on the drum. All went well on both drops, except in Flitterin I began to spin so wildly that I had to close my eyes to keep from getting motion sickness. I only knew I was on bottom when my knee brushed the big block of limestone in the middle of the room.  All you experienced vertical guys can laugh at this but I did manage to scoop you on being first in! I returned later with Robert Handford in May, 1970. I  believe, and you guys who did the grunt work can write the rest of the story." 

Don Cuevas writes: 

You have to give credit to early explorers who usually lacked the sophisticated vertical and horizontal caving eqipment that we had later.

But in our own earlier exlplorations, even with the then state of the art ascenders, etc, we didn't really know how to use them effectively and efficiently.

So it was, after, a long, soaking wet and muddy trip upstream, I watched incredulously as Lon Odell took out two new Gibb's ascenders from their packaging, and starting tying on foot slings! It was a long, cold wait for the rest of us, even huddled out of the cold cave breeze in our plastic trashbags.

Names and Places

There were many names given to the features of Janus Pit, especially the rich array of odd names of the Baffle or Hassle breakdown and water crawl. The Baffle was named after legendary and quasi-mythical caver, Merle Baffle. The Hassle is self explanatory. The "Bathos", a seldom used and forgotten name, applies to the fissure sump below the "curling iron".

For me, naming rooms, passages and features according to a theme (usually one of Greek and Roman mythology), drove the dream and the spirit of exploration.

The "Curling Iron" is a name I forgot until Robert mentioned it. It's a rock obstacle, I guess. The Earwasher is almost a generic term for a low airspace in a water crawl. There was actually a "dry" bypass to the earwasher, but at times of normal water levels, it was easier to plunk an ear down and slide through. On one visit with higher water, I was insanely compelled to pass the earwasher, requiring a deep breath and an act of faith. As soon as I immersed, I had doubts. But the whole thing is maybe 2 feet long, and really not a big deal.

Several of the most onerous obstacles were obviated by discoveries of much easier routes. The main one was Rodney Tennyson's and others' discovery of Miriam's Bypass,  where a short squeeze over a chocked rock (later hammered off) opened a hands and knees crawl, opening into the large, mud floored room below the Cyclop's Cave, and totally bypassed the worst (or best) impediments of the Hassle/Baffle.

*I recall the Joe Vandiver opened the upstream, January Avenue, about New Year's Day, 1976, by moving rocks out of the way in a short but contorted breakdown crawlway near the base of the pit.

We'll return to the later exploration in the next post.

Janus Pit, Part 2. Beyond the Hassle, the Baffle

Janus Pit, Part 2

Earlier...July, 1976

About 200 feet into the Hassle, Joe pulled out a rock below water level revealing a miniscule crack, and we squirmed through into a 15 foot high fissure with solid walls and a ceiling comprised of huge, jammed boulders. To the left, the stream sank in a muddy sump.

To the right, an easy climb went up into randomly chocked blocks. Joe squeezed up between them and said he could see a large black space...then...

Interlude: Tenting Tonight On The Old Camp Ground

When we began seriously exploring the Stone County and environs cave areas, we were living in Springfield, MO. At the time, it was a 4 hour drive away. When we could, we'd camp out somewhere near the cave.

Two Faces. One Cave: Janus Pit. Part 1

“You are standing at the end of a road before a small brick building.  

Around you is a forest.  A small stream flows out of the building and 

down a gully.”— From the early computer game, Adventure, by Will Crowther and successors.

Two Faces. One Cave

Thanksgiving Holiday, 1974

You are standing on a hillside in Stone County, Arkansas. Around you is a forest. A small, wet weather streambed goes down hill to end in a dark, vertical shaft.