Imagine that you've been told, "Come along on the cave trip. We're not worried about catching your cold." Imagine that you get to dig through bins of brand new cave gear to suit yourself up. Imagine that the leader Dave makes you feel wanted by encouraging you to join his trip, and you mention that twelve hours should be your limit while recovering from the cold. Imagine that you'll be able to explore virgin cave that Karen describes it as "the kind of cave you like." Imagine her telling you to wear a T-shirt because the walk in for the first few hours is pleasant and you'll wear your coveralls down.
Imagine a pleasant underground hike starting at 10 AM along a well marked trail, over some impressive breakdown piles for about two hours. Then a lakeside break (where Aaron fills his first pee bottle). The next hour is less tranquil as you squeeze through a breakdown pile, but Dave leads you up into the Big Room that the sten light cannot see across. The Less Big Room at the far end is still a nice long walk.
Imagine that you now reached the section of the cave undiscovered until last Spring. Imagine that you now are chimneying, crawling on your belly, and squeezing between rocks for an hour-and-a-half in order to reach your survey lead. The lead looks like a walking passage, but you first survey a crawl on the side that loops back in. Aaron fills another pee bottle.
At the end of the walking passage, a slab divides the passage into top and bottom. Imagine that the upper passage (a 10-inch high crawl) is the more appealing choice. You continue stretching long survey shots, and the sketcher has lots of work to catch up. Imagine surveying 569 feet before the passage ends in breakdown surrounded by gypsum crystals, flowers, and needles. It's now 10 PM, and Aaron is down two more bottles.
Imagine you now spend six hours (and Aaron a few more pee bottles) traveling back toward the cave entrance and down the hill to the fieldstation. The cave water (with iodine) was especially tasty. After dinner, you lie down to sleep on the futon at 5 AM. Someone in the kitchen wakes you two hours later. Oh no.
