Tag Archives: Bat

Bat Cave

Posted by dkrashb on

In my early 20’s, a co-worker invited me on a group caving trip.  In preparation, I put on approximately 7 layers of cotton.  Cotton underwear, cotton long underwear, cotton jeans, cotton shirt, cotton sweatshirt, cotton everything.

We, of course, decided to do a crawl (more like a drag–there wasn’t enough space to actually get up on your hands and knees) through a 160 foot long “tunnel.”  I was immediately behind the leader, who was wearing waterproof coveralls.

My co-worker was the last person in the group.  When we caught up in a large cavern, I was soaked through.  I said, “I thought you said it was a dry cave?”  He replied, “What are you talking about?  It was completely dry.”

This was probably true, but only because my 7 layers of cotton had absorbed every drop out of every puddle I drug my body through.  I have since read that you will actually stay warmer stark naked than you will wearing wet cotton.  I believe it.

I shivered for about 3 hours straight.  The group debated on whether to take me to the hospital, figuring I was on the verge of hypothermia.  I was OK as long as I kept shivering.  I’ve never been so cold in my life.

Since then, I haven’t been so excited about caves.  But when I learned that Outdoor Chattanooga offered a kayaking tour to a bat cave, I couldn’t resist.

We kayaked across a small section of Nickajack lake to the entrance of the bat cave.  This is not a lair for a superhero, but rather a cave occupied by approximately 80,000 gray bats.

We sat in our kayaks near the fence that keeps people from getting too close to these endangered mammals.  While we waited, we learned that the gray bat is not just important for mosquito control (one of the reasons I adore bats), but that it’s also a major pollinator.  The fact that it’s endangered has vast implications for our ecosystem.

As the sun dropped, a whir started deep within the cave.  After a while, there were so many bats flying out of the cave, it was like a blur of black motion rising from the opening and heading into the woods.

When we looked against the still-light sky, we could see hundreds of them darting around above our heads, collecting the insects around us.

It took at least 20 minutes, maybe 30, for all the bats to exit the cave.  We sat in awe, watching until our necks ached.  Then, we paddled back in the dark, each with a single light on our kayak.

As we arrived back at the launch, the crescent moon sank towards the horizon, setting very early (or late).  It loomed larger as it approached the horizon, beginning to take on a golden cast.

We sighed and said out loud what a nice way it was to spend a Saturday evening. I wasn’t wearing a single stitch of cotton.

A Mini Krash

Posted by dkrashb on

Perhaps this is a good time to mention that I am extraordinarily clumsy.  In fact, I was given the name “Krash” many years ago by some friends who were amazed by my ability to hurt myself (thanks, Mike and Bart).  I really should have a blog dedicated to the ridiculous ways in which I’ve hurt myself.

It only follows that, on my first field trip with a new group of people, while hanging out with someone I’ve just met, I would do something embarrassing and at least mildly alarming.

After lunch at Gibbs Gardens, my cohort (let’s call him John in case he doesn’t want to be included in my blog) and I headed off to the Japanese garden.

As we walked towards an arbor-like structure, several people were gathered around looking at what turned out to be bats.  I happen to be extremely fond of bats.  I would say my fondness for bats is in direct proportion to how much mosquitoes like to bite me.  Besides, bats are really quite cute.

Two of the bats had gone astray and were clinging to the post of the structure close to the ground.  One appeared to be quite young.  I happened to have my macro lens on my camera, so there was no question but that I was going to get some shots of at least one of the bats.

I opened up my tripod’s legs so I could place my camera very low to the ground, level with one of the bats.  Then, I bent over to look through the view finder.  This is when the 40+ pound pack on my back slipped forward and conked me in the back of the head.

This is also when I discovered I had mounted my camera backwards on my tripod head.  I never really worried about which way was forwards or backwards, but now I will.  When you mount your camera backwards in the clamp on my tripod mount, there is a metal lever facing you.  This doesn’t seem like a big deal until a 40+ pound backpack smacks you in the back of the head and shoves your lip into the metal clamp.  Fortunately, I lost only a little blood and no teeth.  Poor John kept trying to find ways to carry things for me after that incident.

It reminds me of a former boss who used to watch for things I might run into and steer me around them when we were walking together.  He started this practice after I bounced off a wall turning a corner too soon while I was mid-sentence.

I’m thinking about teaching a photography workshop on how to prevent injury while shooting.  Most people probably worry about that when they’re shooting on a cliff or going on a safari in Africa or shooting for a newspaper in the middle of a war.  I have to worry about it when I bend over to look through my view finder.  But, hey, it could be a niche market.