Creepy - Ted the Caver (part 6)

Episode Date: April 24, 2017

Ted found a cave...***Presented by the Audio Drama Production Podcast***Sound Design by Zachary Fortais-Gomm***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastures and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. March 13th is amazing what a couple good meals and a little sleep can do for someone's attitude. Even though we still have memories of the strange noise fresh in our minds, we relit our fire of enthusiasm. The other side of the passage seemed so close.

We were sure this would be the day. We got to the cave and started to work our way down to the hole. Getting back into the darkness of the cave, brought back the memories of the night before. The sight of the circle of rock illuminated by our headlamps, the smell of the dirt in the air, the sound we made as we'd crawl across rock. Once we reached the entrance to Floyd's tomb, however, we were once again ready to blaze the trail reading to an undiscovered part of the cave.

We immediately noted the presence of the breeze blowing out of the hole and of the rumbling. The bullpen sticking out of its hole was an obvious sign of where we needed to begin work for the day. B. took over where he left off the day before. I took up residence in the same spot I occupied the night before, even though I was already well-rested and wanted to start work. B was making the hammer sing with each blow. After mere two or three minutes, he let out a cheer.

He turned to reveal a handful of rock that used to be attached to the cave. He was breathing heavy, but had a big smile on his face. So did I. For the time, the strange noise had been forgotten, and the vision of the success captured our attention. tension. The lower left-hand corner of the hole had been giving us grief because of the thickness of the wall at that point. We felt that if we could just remove that corner, we might be on our weight inside. Be now held in his hand the crumbling remains of the corner. Our excitement

consumed us as we examined the hole. I took the hammer and pounded away at the surface of the hole. The idea was to remove the jagged edges that would take their toll on my skin. The size looked right. Now, the moment we had been waiting for. I cautiously approached the entrance to Floyd's tomb. I decided the best way to enter the small hole was to place one arm over my head, turn my head sideways, and then slowly work my way in. I soon determined this was not going to work. The hole was small.

If I was going to make it in without widening the hole anymore, I was going to have to put both arms over my head in a diving position, turn my head sideways, and slip into the tomb. The width of the entrance was a limiting factor. The height was sufficient. The arms overhead position flared my shoulder blades out, but there was still room to get in. Plus, the arms overhead gave me the best squeeze side to side. In order to enter straight into the hole, I stood on my feet and bent over to get level with the entrance.

My knees were bent and the position was uncomfortable, sort of a semi-squadding position, bent at the waist with arms overhead. Plus I had to slightly turn my upper torso to the left in a counterclockwise rotation to negotiate the angle of the entrance. notice in the last photo that the entrance generally slopes up to the right. I got my arms through the entrance with minor scrapes. Next came my head. By keeping it turned sideways, I was able to get it in, for the most part, up to my shoulders. When I got to my shoulders, I could feel the rock touching all around my shoulders and chest. It was not stopping me, but I was definitely scraping many surfaces in my body.

I decided to just push through, keeping in mind that I was going to have to come back out eventually. The pain was not too bad, and I was in. Well, my body was in. At least I could get the idea of what the tomb was going to be like. Once inside the tomb, I had a few inches all around me in which to position my body. This was the largest part of the passage, and it was conveniently located right at the beginning of the crawl. That gave me a little room to get positioned to crawl further into the passage. Inside the tomb gave me a whole new outlook of what it was going to be like to crawl through.

Even though this was the largest part of the crawl, it was still small. I could move my head around freely, but every direction I turned, I was staring at a wall of solid rock. When I spoke to B, my voice sounded muffled, like I was talking in a small box. I could rest my chest on the passage floor, but the rocks were uncomfortable. I turned my head to look further ahead, but couldn't see past the wall of rock I had built the day before. The squeeze toward the end of the passage was closer now and appeared even narrower. I didn't know if I could squeeze through or not. I knew it would be close.

I wanted to crawl further into the passage. First, however, I had to work to get some of the loose rock that was lying on the passage floor out of my way. I was disappointed to find that most of the rock that looked loose was actually attached to the floor. I was hoping to just be able to scrape them out of the way. I pushed the sledge into the passage before me, so at this point I used it to push the rock wall we had made further back into the passage. Then I dragged the sledge back and forth across the floor to move any loose rock, or break up the solid ones. By sliding the head of the hammer under the squeeze,

I determined that the narrowest part of the squeeze was about seven inches high. I figured that we'd have to do some work before I could slip through. The entire time I had my head in the passage, B was just kicking back, listening to my descriptions and progress reports. At some point, he snapped the photo, thanks B. Up to this point, the size of the passage was not too big of a deal. I was in an incredibly small panel. But only my upper body was in, and since it was the largest part of the passage, and my arms could move freely, I was pretty calm.

Then it was time for a push. I slid the sledge hammer up as far as I could reach. Since my body filled the entrance, I could not slip the tool out so it was easier to push ahead. In order to rotate my hips to the proper angle to enter the hole, I had to lean my upper body on my forearms, use my feet to climb the wall outside the hole, and slowly crawl into the hole. My hips barely fit. Once they cleared the entrance, I could relax a bit and get in position to work toward the squeeze. I decided to try the one-arm forward technique to get through.

The passage was so narrow that whatever position I started with I would have to stay with through the entire length. There was just no room to move around or change positions. I would have to turn my head one way or another and keep it in the same position. Moving forward at this point of the passage was relatively easy. I could use my forearm, my left arm, to pull in my other arm to push. At the same time, I would wiggle my body, trying to arc as much as I could to keep my chest off the rocks. I tried both ways and determined that I would turn my head to the right. It felt the most comfortable.

I began to learn things as I went. I determined that a small flashlight in one hand would be nice. Then I could shine it ahead and get a better idea of what I was about to crawl over. This was a difficult maneuver because I had to look overhead since my head was turned. It became immediately obvious that we were going to have to do some work removing rocks from the passage floor. As I moved along the surface, I was constantly scraping my chest on the rocks. They were sharp and it was painful. Occasionally I caused a rock slide under my chest and occasionally wedge me between it and the top of the passage.

I would have to back up and either try to move the rock to the side with my cheek, a sweeping motion with my head, or back out and move it with my forward hand. My little trip into the past was represented a major milestone in my cave and career. When I began caving, I did not feel overly comfortable going through tight spaces. Even the little squeeze at the beginning of this cave was an obstacle to overcome. By pushing myself and forcing myself to try and narrow passages, I have become much calmer about tight spaces. Still, this passage represented a new benchmark in small places. I had not been faced with anything this small.

I don't remember having to take off my helmet before now. With this passage, it is mandatory. As I mentioned before, not only do I have to take off my helmet, but I have to turn my head to the side in order to fit. The journey into the tomb went like this. After I had twisted my hips into the passage, I took a few minutes to stop and work out a game plan. Most of the length of my legs was still outside the entrance.

They were just dangling in the air. The tomb was still big enough to move my head around and even move my arms freely into position. It was larger than the rest of the passage, but not by much. It was like sticking your head into a box. Everywhere I looked there were rocks, and not too far from my head. Any sound I made was muffled and dead. The narrowest part of the passage was about 10 days.

feet in. At this point, I was about three and a half feet in. At about the four foot mark, I would have to commit to whatever position I felt comfortable, and stay that way until around the 12 foot mark, at which time the caves started opening up. I went with my left arm forward and head turned to the right. Be had given me a flashlight that I held in my left hand. As I inched forward, I would try to brush the loose rocks away with my left arm. This was somewhat successful, but there were a lot of rocks I missed or could not move. As I mentioned, the first little bit of the crawl moved along fairly quickly since there was little room for me to negotiate the passage.

Then the wall started to close in around me. I had a few inches on each side of me, but the top of the crawl was getting very low. At about the seven foot mark, I could feel the top rubbing my back as I would arch. After another half foot, I couldn't arch anymore. I had to just push ahead with my toes and pull with my forearm. I decided it would be a good time to see if I could back out. I tried it and it was pretty easy. That gave me a lot more confidence.

Still, I had B-tie-tive a webbing to my feet, just in case he had to pull me out. My neck was starting to get sore from being cranked to the side. My head was getting heavy, but to rest it, the only position I had was to lay it down on the broken rocks. It was painful, but I did it frequently. I was staring at the wall to my right. It was a mere four or five inches away from my face. Most of the time I wasn't watching the wall. Either I had my eyes closed,

which I sometimes do when I go through a tight spot, or the light wasn't shining in a direction that did me any good. It was very quiet in the tomb, other than my own breath. I was breathing heavy from the effort I took to move. Thankfully, the breeze was present and cooled me off. By lifting my head and carefully touched the ceiling from time, time to time, I could gauge the size of the passage that my body would soon pass through. Much like a cat using its whiskers to gauge an opening in a fence.

At the seven and a half foot mark, I could tell things were about to get real tight. While lying in the darkness in a deep passage within a cave, one is in the unique position to ponder. A mountain literally resting on top of me, the entire earth laying below. One tiny movement of earth, and I would cease to exist. or worse. I would recognize the fear shared by Floyd Collins as he lay there, trapped for days within the heart of Mother Earth, incapable of freeing himself from his earth in prison.

Picture yourself in my position. Laying on your stomach, your left arm is extended over your head. Your right arm is at your side, having only a few inches in which to move. Your arms and hands are sore and bleeding from crawling and pulling yourself across broken rocks. your entire body is resting on the rocks. Your neck gets tired of holding your head off the rock so you gently rest your cheek on the rock to rest. Once you start again, you have to push with your toes to scoot your body forward, sliding across the rock.

After moving a few inches, you're breathing hard enough to rest. As you inhale, you can feel your back pressing hard against the top of the squeeze. It takes several minutes before you recover enough to press forward. The entire time, you are lying. there you think of how you're going to get back out. And what if? Well, that's pretty much what I was going through at this point in the passage. When I reached the point where my back was rubbing and I could feel with my head the passage was not getting any bigger, I knew I was most likely not going to get through. Still, I decided to give it one more push. If I'd been in this position a year

ago, I would have been in a state of panic, but not today. I was pretty pumped. I took a few minutes to rest, then I went for it. I exhaled completely all the air in my lungs, causing my chest to collapse enough to scoot forward a few inches. Because it takes so much effort to scoot, I only went a few inches before I'd have stopped and breathe. As I inhaled, my chest pressed hard against the floor and my back against the top. It took a little longer to get my breath. breath back. Unbelievably, I did it again. Exhale, scoot, rest.

Again, only a few inches. Repeat. I took a few extra minutes to enjoy this position, pinned in this small passage. I could not believe how relaxed I was. I tried one more time to exhale and scoot. my back was rubbing too much to continue. Despite the failed effort, I was psyched.

I took extra long minutes to lay there and recover from the effort. Be had been encouraging me the entire time. It was fun to hear him cheer as he saw my shoes go deeper and deeper into the hole. Backing out was not too difficult, but it did take some work. I encountered the same obstacles as when I went in. After I wiggled my hips out of the hole, which took some time, I had trouble getting my shoulders out. Both arms were overhead at this point.

My shirt was getting caught on the rocks and my shoulders were brushing the sharp rocks. After struggling in finding a good position, I gave up and just pulled my upper body out. Scrape. My shirt pulled up over my head and I had some nice scrapes on my shoulders, but I didn't care. To me this trip was a success. I pushed myself beyond what I thought was possible. I kneeled at the entrance and looked into the narrow passage I had just been in. The rock wall was now at the 11 foot mark.

I pushed it a little with my forward arm. The smallest point was at the 9 foot mark. We were close. Between the work and the excitement, I was tired. I just sat on the rope big grinning. The rest of the journal entry talks about usual. Our climb out, dinner, trip home, etc. On our way home we brainstormed it came home.

with some ideas that would help us get through. We both invented some tools to remove the rock on the floor deep within the passage. We were both very excited by the trip. I, from pushing my limits in the cave, and B, from his success in climbing out of the cave. This was the first time he was able to climb all the way out without the help of climbing devices. Nor my help. It was a personal success that showed the progress he's made since his accident. Pretty cool.

I remained amazed that we could so easily forget that terrifying moment we experienced just the day before. All had been forgotten, with the strange noise being blamed in our minds on some rational, harmless explanation. For more information, including pictures and videos of the stories told on this podcast, or to suggest stories for future episodes, please visit us. at Creepypod on Twitter, Instagram. All stories told on this podcast can be found at creepypasta wiki.com and are protected by a Creative Commons license. Some rights reserved unless otherwise stated.