Still using the safety ropes, he quickly discovered that as long as you started out, literally on the right foot, there would always be a logical place for your next step. If you started out on the wrong foot you would have to return to the top and start again. It was a vertical wall ladder, one that became increasingly easier to manage as the drop became less steep. Even in the dark, if you searched with your hand or foot, sooner or later you would discover a logical way down the steep rock. As Corey climbed down the wall, carefully playing out his safety ropes, he began to feel much cooler air, and could hear far off echoes. As he neared the bottom of the chasm the decent became easier as the drop turned into a steep slide. Now the cut steps were more like stair steps carved out of the volcanic rock. Finally, reaching a platform he unpacked and lit his battery powered lamp. He realized that he had now dropped into an immense underground cavern. At the bottom of the steep incline he was no longer climbing through volcanic rock but rather the original bedrock of yellow sandstone. This large grotto provided a place to rest and was obviously used as a resting place by others. Leading away from the grotto were trails going off in many directions. He returned to the top where they tied supplies that they would obviously need later and dropped them, tied to a drop rope, a bundle at a time into the pit. Several hours of hard work had already been accomplished and facing a two hour climb to the top we returned again to camp. Tomorrow, we would all brave the pit taking with us one last cache of supplies we might use in the depth of the caverns. That evening I thought about all the circumstances and even the dream that had brought me to this place. It all seemed so much like a dream but then, there was Corey, curled up around me. Not all dreams portend bad omens.
The Cavern
Early the following morning, we repeated the now well-rehearsed procedures, dropping down the trail into the canyon. A couple of hours later we were connecting our carabineers to our safety harness and attaching ourselves to a safety rope. One at a time, we had to slide off the edge of the rock and search with our toes to find a place to put our feet. Dropping down was much easier to do now because of the foot and handholds Corey had discovered but I knew I wouldn’t want to try it without the safety rope. It was a terrifying moment. For a second I thought I was back in my dream. After finding the hole in the rock I allowed my weight to rest on it then after another foothold was found, I leaned back and let myself freefall. At the bottom of the drop, I released my safety rope and stepped out of the rope harness slowly dropping down to the stair steps which seemed to be dropping into a large room. Capped by hard volcanic rock, the stairs led down into a grotto. Corey, who dropped down ahead of me, was busy rounding up our packs. The room had one giant stalagmite in the center of it, surrounded by a small pool of water and then surrounded by flat floor. Around the edge of the room, stones had obviously been arranged to form a place for someone to sit or even recline. It was a haven with a ceiling made of black volcanic rock mostly covered with a white crystalline material making it very reflective. The floor and walls were the same yellow sandstone that the upper pathway was made of and there were two obvious exits from the grotto, one appearing to go back up and one appearing to go down. After Dr. Douglas and Hidalgo made the drop, Hidalgo declared that this would be our base camp. No matter where we explored, we would always return to this spot. It was our personal kingdom. Soon we noticed another, smaller petroglyph with exactly the same design as the previous one. But this time there were three rattlesnake motifs carved into the sandstone walls, one a two headed rattlesnake trailing up and the single one pointing down.
Staying together, we explored one of the two major trails leading up from the grotto. After only a small amount of exploration, we discovered that the path meandered uphill and eventually split into two paths. We picked one to explore and explored it until we realized that corridor we were exploring seemed to meander upwards until the volcanic rock reappeared. The cave seemed to be hand constructed in places and certainly went somewhere but where?
Returning to the grotto we explored the main trail that led downhill only far enough to see if it went somewhere. As we dropped down, the yellow rock changed into a creamy limestone rock. Below the volcanic cap, rock had dissolved into immense huge underground chambers. Timidly following the most apparent trail, we descended out of the sandstone into travertine cave rock. We walked along a Swiss cheese world with cave openings going in every direction. Keeping to the ancient trail we began to hear running water. In a short while, we found tiny underground rivulets of water cascading though a world of travertine rocks around them. The deeper we went the more complex the scenery around us became. Reminiscent of Carlsbad Caverns only with actively growing stalactites and stalagmites, it was if they were dropping into worlds created long ago and under many different circumstances. Dr. Douglas was in awe. He was actually seeing a world that before he could only imagine. Based upon what he knew about geology and upon his experiences all over the world they had discovered something extraordinary.
Bordered by delicate formations appearing like millions of tiny Chinese rice gardens, the pathway actually dropped though a labyrinth of travertine formed by mineral laden water. The cascading water caused the delicate and thin walls to vibrate, singing songs to the traveler. The travelers descended a well-worn man made path made of perfectly inlaid yellow sandstone. But after several turns with obvious routes, the trail ended in a broken rock area that required much exploration and wading in icy cold water. After considerable wrong turns, dead ends and some cursing from Dr. Douglas, we were relieved when they found the trail again, but only the last fifty or so yards of it, for it appeared to come to an abrupt end.
We found themselves next to a sandy beach alongside the confluence of two shallow crystal clear underground rivers. But along the edges of the river on this inside curve, were many small houses made of the yellow sandstone rock. Roofless, and with small walls they appeared to be like any small ruins one might find in the southwest. These structures were really just suggestions of homes. Very little privacy is required in a world of perpetual darkness. Inside a cavern, there is no temperature change or weather of any kind, but the air does circulate, sometimes when large storms pass overhead in the other world, there is real wind in some of the tighter places.
As we explored along the cave-like depressions in the rock we discovered many interesting structures. These were not unlike many other ruin structures that we had seen before made out of the local rock, the same rock style that was on the trail, and made of the same intricate inlay pattern like we had seen before in Chaco canyon. Inside the houses, we discovered all manner of wonderful artifacts. All objects such as bowls, articles of clothing and blankets were as they were left. The pottery was highly stylized with a white on black theme decorated with intricate designs looking as if they were made by master craftsmen. Sash belts were lying on the makeshift beds made with much delicate beadwork. Yet these were not homes but rather sleeping quarters for a few families in an eternally dark world. Perhaps they were able to work without the aid of light at all. But what were they working at?
They guessed the water flowed generally south in a great meander with a tremendous amount of side channeling and river braiding. The ceiling was several stories up, or so we guessed and above that it was all capped with volcanic rock. Somewhere, well above that rock, was the modern Rio Grande River, slowly cutting down through the rock, under a bright New Mexican sun. As the river flowed into the inky caverns, we could hear, in hundreds of faraway recesses water cascading over, onto, and into rocks making the familiar sounds of small cataracts and waterfalls. We imagined earlier people exploring these tiny underground rivers.
We crossed over to the sandy beach on the other side and then stepped into the other shallow river coming in from a slightly different direction and discovered an intriguing fact; the water was very warm, almost hot. A delicate steam rose into the air above it. This channel of water was obviously flowing through a volcanically active area north of our location.<
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I set down in the water to warm myself and exclaimed, “Hot and cold running water. What else could we possibly want?”
“Well, Dr. Douglas exclaimed, just look at the black gravel under you.”
Certainly the gravel was black but it also contained tiny sparkling particles of a yellow material; gold.
Dr. Douglas exclaimed in jubilation, “You all realize that there are many personal fortunes of gold in that gravel. If we were able to mine all that gold out of there we would be millionaires many times over.”
“How in the world would we be able to get it out of here,” asked Corey?
Dr. Douglas mulled the question over for a few moments then answered with, “Well, I don’t know. It would be impossible to get machines in here. I suspect that it would have to be removed the old fashioned way, just like the ancients did, one bag at a time by climbing up the chasm and out through the lava tube.”
After some rummaging around we found a small creek coming in from a side cavern that flowed next to a huge structure that was carved into the gently sloping but solid rock. A curved cut in the rock at the top slowly meandered back and forth over little pockets in the groves. We were puzzled at first but Dr. Douglas recognized its use after exploring and finding a diversion canal designed to pour water over the petroglyph. Intricately carved and very artistic, the deep groves made a fantastic design and were actually designed to carry water into them. After an examination we discovered inside the groves of the design, in various states of purity, gold. The ancient ones were mining the gold here in the caverns, and washing it here.
Being pressed for time as it was already late evening, we discovered under a make shift bed several leather sacks and to our delight and amazement, they contained pure granular gold. Gold that would be carried by the ancient ones, in leather sacks, to another place where it would be traded for all manner of goods. We wondered who they were trading with, there is little evidence of gold being used by the ancient people who lived here.
We discovered that the ancient trial we had followed eventually continued on the other side of the shallow streams but immediately disappeared into the maze of caverns. These streams might have been flowing during the age of dinosaurs carrying mineral rich deposits along its meandering journey to become part of the water table of the Rio Grande Valley. To the north of them the rivers were obviously cutting through deposits of extremely high grade gold ore, carrying the gold downstream and depositing it in the deepest recesses of the crystal clear streambed.
It was in those pockets of water that we discovered what thousands had been looking for on the Rinconada before; gold. Upon close examination of the stream sediment, we could plainly see what looked like tiny pieces of the finest gold wire. It was everywhere. All we had to do was take the gravel back to the petroglyphic device, turn on the water by moving a single flat stone, and allow it to separate the gold for them, bag it up and then spend it.
We sat down together to mull over their situation. As we did so we turned off all the lights except one to save the batteries for the return trip to the chasm. At that point Corey dropped his flashlight, breaking the bulb and casting them into pitch black, but as their eyes adjusted to the dark they realized something. There was light in the caves, which brought up the next question, where in the world was it coming from? Where they were, on the cold river side, the light was extremely dim, but on the other side, where the hot water channel was coming through, the walls were glowing from thousands of tiny light sources.
“Must be bioluminescence, says Dr. Douglas, bacteria or something. The light must be getting energy from the hot water flowing through here.” It was all an awesome sight being able to see the beautiful cave formations without any other source of light. As I neared the source of the light they seemed to get brighter. I then realized that any air movement made them glow brighter.
“Now I know how the ancient ones were able to get around here without torches, says Hidalgo. I was wondering how they were able to stay down here without leaving any soot marks on the ceilings or walls.”
We had spent an adventurous day in the caverns and were overwhelmed with what we had found. Then it was time to begin the long uphill climb back to the bottom of the pit, the grotto. Now it would be getting dark outside and we were wishing we had simply brought sleeping bags with us but when we got to the bottom of the pit we suddenly realized that something was terribly wrong. Laying there on the floor was all the rope that should have been tied to the pipe well over two hundred feet above us. Someone had cut the rope. Someone had left us to die.
The Ladrones
Corey, as usual, led the way up by carefully climbing up the chasm using the footholds that the ancient ones had carved. Starting at almost a forty five degree incline the chasm quickly shot straight up. Even with the footholds it was a strenuous and dangerous climb. At the top he encountered a problem that he knew he would have to deal with. The rock there formed a slight overhang which is why they hadn’t noticed the footholds in the first place as well as the reason the ancient ones had locked a log in place. He would need to somehow toss a rope over the pipe, that, thank heavens was still there. He thought to himself, if whoever had cut the ropes had dropped the pipe there would be no way to get out.
Perhaps they thought it would make too much noise and alert the detectives and their group to their oncoming predicament. He laughed to himself, what difference would it have made? After several attempts he was able to toss the rope over the pipe. Even though it was just a yard or so away he was terrified at the thought of losing his grip and plummeting to the bottom. He fastened the rope he had tied to his belt that got heavier and heavier as he climbed. Secured everything and climbed out. With a safety rope tied securely back in place, I quickly followed, then Dr, Douglas, and finally Hidalgo climbed to the top of the pit. Once there, we began the long climb back to the top of the rim.
Hidalgo muttered, “I’ll kill that Mexican when I get there, I never should have trusted him. Why would he want to help us anyway?”
I, on the other hand kept trying to calm them all down. Corey simply led the way looking ahead for any sign of danger and Dr. Douglas who was in the rear was too exhausted to say anything.
Eventually we neared the rim and everyone crept up the trail trying their best not to make any noise. As they looked over the crest they were perplexed. Juan Armijo was leaning against the tree apparently asleep. Walking over to him they quickly realized that there was more to it than that. He was tied to that tree and bleeding from his nose. Startled, Juan Armijo started out by yelling in lightning fast Spanish with a string of what was probably profanities, then when he realized that he was among friends he settled down to explain that he awoke to find two men in camp and one of them was holding a pistol directly at his face.
“They arrived just as you folks dropped over the edge of the canyon and demanded to know where you were off to. So I told them you had gone down to the river to fish. Of course they didn’t believe me and punched me several times until I told them you were also prospecting. One of them took off down the trail to find you and the other one ransacked the camp, took everything of value and after the other one who had gone off to find you came back, they took off.”
“What did they take off in, ask Hidalgo?
They left in a brown car just like your Jeep Cherokee, maybe a station wagon. I really don’t know. I was tied to this darned tree and couldn’t really see. I thought they were going to steal my old truck, it was the only one that I had keys to, said Juan Armijo. But, they didn’t, they went through everything else. I know they did carry some things and then loaded it into the back of their vehicle.”
“They must be mean hombres because they said they had decided to follow you all the way down the trail to see if you had any money on you.”
After a short examination of the camp they could find very little of value missing.
“This doesn’t make any sense to me” says Hidalgo, if they were thieves they woul
d have grabbed everything and then run. These guys were interested in hurting this expedition. They wanted to hurt us. In effect, they were committing murder. Why would they take a risk like that? Tell me more Armijo, what did they look like?
Armijo frowned then said, “Aw, they were a couple of Mexicans, maybe your age with bad teeth.” He was looking at Hidalgo when he said, “One of them had a really bad limp. His left knee if I remember correctly. Anyway, I have never seen them before and trust me I know all the ladrones, eh thieves, around here.
We all turned and looked at each other. Finally I asked, “Fernandez and Garcia from Serpiente?”
Hidalgo replied, “Has to be. Who else would have a grudge against us? Who else would have gone to all this trouble?” They decided they were dealing with a real problem then after mulling around camp for a while they made a list of what was stolen and Hidalgo and I headed to Espanola. It was time to talk to the police.
Sergeant Blanco
“What can I help you with?” Said sergeant Blanco who was on desk duty at the Espanola police department and who was giving a curious look at what was apparently an unusual couple; a weathered Navajo Indian and a gorgeous Anglo women with blond hair. He had never seen that combination of people walk in to the building before, and was suspecting that they were angry at each other. He wondered what the Navajo had done.
“We would like to report an attempted murder,” says Hidalgo.
“Where did this happen?” asked the Sergeant with the smirk disappearing from his face.
I answered, “We were up on the rim overlooking the Rio Grande Box on the Rinconada.”
The Family at Serpiente Page 26
