Camp Monsters - The Cavern

Episode Date: June 29, 2022

To battle the summer heat we're going underground. Where things are cool and quiet. A place where you might run into something that's been trapped for far too long.Welcome to Camp Monsters Summer Camp. Over the past few seasons of the show, we've gotten tons of suggestions on the monsters we should cover. We noticed that a lot of these take place at a summer camp. So we've collected the best of the stories you've sent — and researched a few of our own — to create our first series of legendary summer camp creatures. Hopefully you can take these episodes with you to summer camp or they'll bring you back to when you were a camper, scared of what might be lurking outside of your cabin.This year's sponsor is YETI. Check out all of their amazing gear in store or at REI.com. Pack it up - Shop YETI Camp CoolersDrink it in - Shop YETI Drinkware

This is an REI Co-op Studios production. You are deep underground. There are millions of tons of earth above you, pressing down on a little cave that you slide along. But cave is too grand a word now. What was a cave has dwindled to a tiny crevice. A crevice that you're trying to squeeze yourself through.

Every time you cram yourself forward another inch, you're sure there's no possibility of going any further. The cold walls press against your ribs until you feel your heart beating in the rock, and the crushing earth seems to take shallow breaths right along with you, and with every breath, it closes in. A little tighter. But with a slow, supreme effort, you pull yourself from the vice and into a larger chamber. You take a moment to rest, leaning against a massive stalagmite. And look, someone has been here before you.

There's a rope, an old hemp rope, such as no caver has used for eighty years, tied around a boulder just ahead, stretching down into a pit in the floor. An interesting historical artifact, you think to yourself. Until you notice that the rope is moving, jumping back and forth along the edge of the pit, in little motions growing larger, like something's climbing up it. Nearing the top. About to emerge right in front of you. But what is it? What could be coming up... From down there? This is the Camp Monsters Podcast.

Welcome to Camp Monsters Summer Camp. So many of you have written reviews or sent emails with great monster stories that take place at a camp or in a wilderness nearby. So we've collected the best of the tales you've sent and researched a few of our own to create our first series of legendary summer camp stories. Normally we tell these stories around a campfire, but not this time. Because this time, we're underground. And there's no sense smudging up this clean cave air with soot, staining all these incredible rock formations. Look around. Stalactites, those are the ones on the ceiling.

Stalagmites, soda straws, flowstone, coralloids. Who knew rock could take so many fantastic shapes? Water made all these structures. Water dripping, flowing, pooling, slowly, over hundreds of thousands, even millions of years. So, what we're seeing here, in these rocks, is actually fossilized time. Time standing still. The past and the present, even the future doesn't make much difference down here. The world rushes along up above, but underground, things linger.

The millennia echo in these caves. A hundred years is half a breath away. Marta and Lex found that out a while ago, in a chamber much deeper than this one. It was a part of the cave that they weren't supposed to be in, a branch of the cavern that the instructors of their summer caving camp had specifically warned everyone away from. But warnings of danger entice some people, people who think they're up to the challenge. Lex and Marta thought they were. And having snuck a hundred yards or so into the forbidden tunnel, they didn't see what all the fuss was about. Sure, that last section had been a little tight, but nothing more than they'd already faced during their two weeks at camp.

Lex helped Marta up from her knees as she crawled out of a passage that they'd wriggled through. The cave here widened out into a large chamber. They'd left the chatter of their fellow campers behind. The only sounds in here were their own movements, which seemed to echo continuously, ever fainter, so that even when they both stood perfectly still, the chamber went on whispering to itself about their presence. The walls were lined with cascading layers of pale, flowing rock. Some like frozen waterfalls, others suggesting hidden galleries screened by rows of columns, or the high boxes of a dark, empty theater. A theater you weren't

entirely sure was empty. The ceiling was very high, but it was up there somewhere. When they shone their lights upward, they could see the mouth of a large pit, which blocked their path. They tried the old trick of tossing a loose rock in and listening for it to hit bottom, and when no echo returned at all, they knew this was not the pit to fall into. There was a ledge off to one side that skirted the hole and might allow them to pass, but it sloped steeply and smoothly down toward the drop. It would be a tricky passage to make. Before they tested the route, they shone their headlamps around,

looking for something to anchor a rope to, so that they could harness up in case they lost their footing while crossing the ledge. The obvious choice was a huge boulder off to one side that had fallen out of the ceiling eons ago, the base of which was perfect for passing a rope around. Did you trip on that? Marta asked Lex, shining her light on a rope that was already tied around the boulder, then stretched across the rocky floor until it ran down the ledge and out of sight into the pit. It was nothing like a modern climbing rope. Instead of a bright nylon color pattern, it was a dull, frayed brown. An old-fashioned hemp rope, a kind no one

had used in decades. It was eerie to find proof that someone long ago had been down this deep. Made the chamber feel lonelier, somehow. Even more forgotten. But eerier still was the fact that now, as Marta shined her light on it, the rope seemed to move, jumping and dancing like, almost like it was under tension. Almost like the top of a rope always moved when someone was climbing up it. I didn't touch it, Lex said, as they both moved closer to the rope and stood, staring at it, hesitating. Maybe it hadn't been moving after all. Up close it still looked stretched, like something was dangling from it,

but the illusion of movement had faded, at least. Marta tried to decide if her eyes could still detect a vibration. Well, that was silly. Why trust her eyes? She reached down and took the rope in her hand. Completely still.

She stood up straight, pulling the rope from the ledge toward her. It came along easily, like there wasn't even much length to it beyond what they could see. Nothing to it, Marta said as she pulled more of the rope up, intending to coil it down beside the boulder. For a split second, Lex turned her attention to a buckle on her harness, so she didn't see exactly what happened next. She didn't see the rope in Marta's hand suddenly tug-taught, pulling her violently off her feet and onto the ledge that sloped down toward the drop. But Lex heard Marta's shout, heard the percussion of her body and gear slamming onto the steep slope beside the chasm, and she heard the deadly hiss of Marta's winded form sliding down the gritty surface. Lex began to shout, but Marta didn't hear what she said.

She'd landed badly, and as she slid toward the dark void, all she could focus on were the painful, barking gasps that racked her body as it tried and failed to breathe. Marta couldn't get enough air, but she couldn't stop trying either, and every heave of her lungs disturbed those few grains of sand that were slowing her slide down the rock. Behind the sound of her tortured breaths, the quiet grind of the ledge against her caving helmet told Marta that she was still sliding, that gravity was pulling her further and further down the sandy slope, down toward the mouth of the abyss.

Suddenly there was a little jolt, an attention in her hand, and Marta hadn't even realized she was still clinging onto the rope until it ran out of slack and helped stop her slide. Once she was sure she wasn't sliding anymore, she carefully, painfully unfurled her body from the fetal position she'd landed in. And as her breathing spasms slowly subsided, she spread herself out on her belly, trying to increase her surface area against the rock, trying to keep her body from sliding down again or rolling in either direction. Once she'd balanced as best she could, Marta knew

she had to orient herself. Her caving helmet had been knocked askew by the fall, and in the darkness she couldn't immediately tell which way was up, which direction led to safety, and which to oblivion. But after a few experimental movements of her head, she relocated the beam of her misaligned headlamp and managed to shine it on the features around her. She found that she was head downward on the slope, with her feet steeply uphill, and the arm that held the rope stretched out ahead of her toward the drop. The drop that was just inches beyond her hand. It was an unpleasant shock to see how close to the edge she'd come.

But what was more shocking, and much, much more unpleasant, was when Marta's headlamp revealed a hand rising up out of the darkness of the pit ahead of her. A hand that suddenly snatched down toward the rope at the brink of the ledge, and took fierce hold of Marta's hand instead. Marta instinctively tried to shrink away from it, tried to yank her arm back with all the force that her awkward position would allow, but the hand from the pit held so tightly to hers that she couldn't move it at all.

And her sudden reaction started her legs sliding sideways down the ledge toward the drop, toward whatever was climbing up. At the last possible instant, she kicked one leg out and just managed to catch the rope under the toes of her boot. Then slowly dragged the other leg back up and away from danger. The hot, rough hand that held Marta's was tugging desperately at it, pulling her down into the abyss with a strength that would have been irresistible had it not been for the old rope that she still clung just beyond the pit's edge was trying to tear the rope out of her hand, or away from its anchor entirely, yanking the whole thing down into the darkness, and Marta along with it. Marta felt the rope come under its greatest strain yet, and she braced herself to come face to face

with whatever was down there as she started the long fall into nothingness. But instead of that, the rope held, and something else slowly rose up from the edge of the pit and into the light of Marta's headlamp. It was a face. A dirty, thin face, but human at least.

A man, a young man. His teeth were clenched so tightly they looked fit to crack. The face of someone struggling past the last outpost of endurance. In spite of the cool cave air, the face sparkled all over with beads of sweat, and the long-sleeved shirt that might once have been white or tan was now soaked into dark cakes of cave dirt and moisture. He didn't make a sound Didn't look like he could make a sound Heaving himself so desperately up With the rope in one hand and Marta's hand in the other Struggling to get back to level ground

He didn't say a word but his wide brown eyes spoke as clearly as anything could Help me They said Help me, they said. Help me. Marta's whole demeanor changed in an instant. Having someone else to save cooled her panic-boiled mind. Everything snapped into ice crystal focus. She didn't wonder who this person was or why he was here or how he'd managed to get trapped in this part of the cavern those questions didn't matter they could all be answered later they didn't even occur to marta he was a person a human being here in front of her and he needed help

all she was focused on now was saving him, getting them both back to safety. She couldn't yet spare the breath to whisper something encouraging, but she tried to say it in a look, while, with newfound balance and strength, she slid her free hand under her body and onto the rope, with the intention of dragging herself backward up the slope, inching them both to safety. But in order for that to work, she had to release the rope where she held it in the hand that was now inside the crushing grip of the desperate caver. If only he could shift his hold ever so slightly, if only he could grab her arm above her wrist,

then she could release the rope for a moment and begin to slide them both ever so slightly, ever so slowly, upward. She was gathering the breath to say something, to tell him what she needed him to do, when a flash from his eyes told her that he already understood. A look of concentration clouded his face. His brow darkened. He unclenched his teeth just long enough to flit a dry, swollen-looking tongue across his cracked lips.

And then he made his plunge, loosed his grip on her hand and heaved with all his exhausted strength to try to gain a few more inches and clamp onto her forearm. And he almost made it. Marta felt him make the drive, felt his hot hand close around her arm. But then something went wrong. He couldn't, maybe he couldn't grip the slick fabric of her sleeve, or he just missed his hold, but as she felt his hand slide quickly back down her arm, she balled her fist to give him something to grip onto as he slid past. But his momentum

overpowered her effort, and by the time they'd checked his fall, all they had hold of were each other's squeezed fingertips. There was a moment when she tried to think of what to do, tried to think of anything she could do. As her mind rushed from one empty corner to another in the space of that frozen moment, she locked eyes with him again, and didn't find any answer there either, just the same desperate plea. Help, help me.

Then, their last hold on each other slipped away. No! Marta cried. Forgetting everything, she let go of the rope and slid toward the drop, snatching at his sliding hand. No! I've got you! I've got you! Lex said this, catching Marta's sliding leg in a firm grip.

Lex had managed to work her way down the rocks beside the ledge and had wedged herself among them just in time to pin Marta's leg as she slid past. Then, in the swirl of their headlamps and the clamoring echoes of Marta's inarticulate cries Lex checked her equilibrium and couldn't find it. For two surging beats of her heart Lex thought they were both gone both bound over the black drop.

But then she found the lonely glimmer of a calcite crystal in the beam of her headlamp against the far wall and she fixed her gaze to it like it was the North Star. Breathing again, she slowly managed to half-yank, half-guide Marta over and up to a position where she could support her own body weight, then carefully climbed to join Lex on her precarious roost.

It took Lex a minute to make sense of Marta's gasping account of the other caver trying to struggle out of the pit. Lex had been preoccupied with her own dangerous descent, while keeping a steady flow of reassuring words streaming in Marta's direction. She'd missed the whole thing. But looking out onto the slope of rock now, they could both see the old rope stretched taut across the ledge, jumping and straining with the struggle of someone clinging onto it, someone trying to climb. They couldn't reach the rope safely from where they were, but if they could regain the level top of the ledge and both heave onto the rope, maybe together they could drag him up. Maybe together they could save him.

It was a short but dangerous ascent from where they were back up to safety. Reaching the top should have brought them a thrill of relief. But instead they both felt a horrible, sinking feeling in their stomachs. Marta because she saw the rope, now hanging limp and still along the cave floor. And Lex because she heard their caving instructor shouting for them as she crawled through the narrow passage that led into the chamber. The instructor had just barely heard Lex's first calls for help, and she'd come as fast as a difficult tunnel would let her. As soon as she heaved herself through the narrow throat of the entrance to their chamber, she began to assail Lex and Marta with a stream of questions and reprimands and exclamations of relief at finding them both apparently unharmed but before she could build any serious momentum

marta interrupted her with a hurried account of her fall and slide and encounter with the struggling caver at the end of the rope and the urgent need to act quickly to save him the rope was limp now. He obviously wasn't dangling from it anymore. But maybe he was clinging to the rocks just below the ledge. Maybe... The whole story didn't take 30 seconds to relate. But she'd barely started before a deeply concerned look came over the instructor's face. When Marta paused in the midst of her plea,

the instructor didn't even glance at the pit or the old rope trailing into it. Instead, she pulled a small flashlight from her belt and clicked it on, then told Marta to hold still as she shined it slowly into one, then into the other of Marta's eyes. Marta recognized the first steps of a concussion test, and she angrily insisted that she hadn't hit her head, and then began again her story about the climber in trouble at the end of that rope. The look of worry on the instructor's face turned into something much harder, and she stepped quickly over to where the rope ran across the top of the ledge. Is this the rope? The instructor asked Marta.

And when Marta said yes, the instructor picked it up and yanked in a few arm's lengths. Shining her headlamp down toward the pit, they all saw the frayed, broken end of the rope jump up over the ledge. This made Marta even more concerned and desperate. But the instructor stood there listening coldly as Marta poured her anguish out in a flood of words and helpless gestures. When Marta stopped for breath, half choking with frustration, the instructor turned abruptly to Lex

and asked if she was also going to claim that she'd seen this other mysterious caver. Well, Lex felt bad saying it, but she had to admit that she hadn't noticed him. She'd been busy climbing down to help, and... Lex's testimony trailed off while the instructor turned back to Marta and held up a length of the old rope. He was dangling off of this. This rope, was he? the instructor asked. In a voice so quiet it sounded dangerous. But before Marta could even nod, the instructor was pulling and twisting the rope between her hands and,

after a brief strain, the rotten old braid ripped in half. Marta fell silent. Lex had nothing to say. The instructor looked at them, then picked up another section of the rope and repeated her quiet question. He was dangling off of this rope, and with another straining pull she tore it apart again. The instructor threw the ragged pieces on the ground, stepped close to them,

and let them both have it. They had deliberately ignored rules that existed for their own safety and the safety of everyone else. That branch of the cavern was dangerous in many places. There had been several accidents over the years, which is why it was strictly off limits. They'd risked their lives, her life, and the lives of anyone else who might have come to rescue them. And then they tried to cover up their own recklessness with that ridiculous old ghost story that everyone told about this chamber, as if she hadn't heard it herself a hundred times before. They ought to both be sent home from camp and banned from all future activities, and if they ever did anything like this again, she would see that they were.

It set a terrible example for the other cavers, etc. It was long. it was loud, it was extremely unpleasant. But when the storm of reproaches finally broke, and Lex and Marta were sent trudging back to their cabin, Marta couldn't help but quietly ask Lex, But you did see me holding onto that rope, right? And you saw it jumping and straining by itself after you'd saved me. Lex agreed that she had, and neither of them could explain it. They still can't. As for the ghost story that the instructor had angrily mentioned to everyone telling about that chamber,

neither Lex nor Marta had ever heard of it before. But you can believe they weren't long in seeking it out. They got a lot of different versions from some of the other campers and instructors and people in the town nearby, but they all amounted to variations on a theme. That when the cave was first officially discovered and explored in the early 1920s, the remains of an earlier caver had been found dangling from the end of a simple rope and harness inside the pit in that chamber. It was speculated that the body belonged to one of the small army of miners and drifters and dreamers who'd come to the area early in the century with hopes of discovering mineral wealth

or some spectacular cave that would attract tourists. It was assumed that this early explorer had discovered the cave alone, but then slipped into the pit during his explorations and was unable to pull himself out. A colorful story, if it was true. But even after what they'd experienced down there, Lex and Marta had their doubts. It seemed more like the kind of story that a creative caving camp instructor would make up to help keep kids out of a dangerous tunnel.

That is, until they ran into an old local who was one of the few that had rappelled down into that pit, as far as ropes would reach back in the 1970s, when oversight of the cave was a lot looser. It was hard to make out from the photos that he'd taken, but he'd gone back later and made a rubbing of an inscription that he'd found on the smooth rock face about 30 feet down from the mouth of a pit, just about where someone might dangle at the end of an old hemp rope once they'd exhausted themselves trying to climb it. The crude letters looked like they'd been carved by feel in the dark, and they told a sad and simple story. John K., they read, in large capital letters. T.R.P.D. Trapped.

1906. And another funny thing that the old caver told Marta and Lex When he was down in that chamber, back in the 70s He'd found that same old hemp rope Tied around the boulder, trailing across the floor With its frayed end hanging down into the pit A morbid artifact, he'd thought Made him feel uneasy seeing it there so being a good caver he'd

cut that old tripping hazard off the boulder coiled it up packed it out to the surface and burned it to ashes in his fire pit and since then he'd talked to at least five other cavers who had packed that same old rope out of that same cavern. But somehow it keeps coming back. You know, I just realized, we've told this whole story, never once talking about where in the country this particular cave is located. Well, let's leave it like that. There are caves of all kinds in every corner of the land. And though they all have their differences, they all have a lot more in common.

They all have this air, this hush, and they all have a time outside of our own. Time that runs like an underground river, eternal beneath the ever-changing surface. Well, I guess we better get back up there. That's the other thing about caves. Whenever you come out of one, there's that little part of you that wonders if the world you're going back to is actually the same one you left. Well, there's only one way we're going to find out. But don't be surprised if time seems to have slipped a little while we've been down here.

Things like that tend to happen underground. Camp Monsters is part of the REI Podcast Network. The awesome sound effects for tonight's episode were specially recorded by our engineer, Nick Patry, while he risked life and limb exploring the deep network

of treacherous caverns within his own soul. Luckily, out of the cloud of screeching bats that constantly swirl around Nick, only two have become entangled in his hair,

our executive producers Paolo Motta and Joe Crosby. Meanwhile, our senior producer Chelsea Davis is hoping to make her fortune from the guano that's so plentiful around here. And yours truly, Weston Davis, writer and host of these episodes, is dangling, exhausted, at the end of his safety rope over a dark and bottomless pit. What's that he's carving into the rock with a dull pocket knife? Why, it looks like the script for next week's episode. Next week, we'll take a closer look at something you see all the time. It's that little silver speck flying across the sky high above you. Just an airplane, right?

It must be. What else could it be? Next week we'll be thousands of feet above the earth and climbing. Climbing so high that the cars and trucks below are just little silver specks. And that little silver speck in the sky is much closer. And it's not so little. And it isn't a plane. As always, these stories are just that, stories.

Some of them are based on things people claim to have seen and experienced, but it's up to you to decide what you believe, and how to explain away what you don't. Thank you very much for listening, and please remember to like, share, rate, and review the Camp Monsters podcast as often as you can. We see it, and we appreciate it every time. See you next week.