Wednesday was a rough day for myself, in classes and meeting from 9 in the a.m. to 9 in the p.m. and I missed the cave meeting, my favourite part of Wednesdays. So once I got home, on the couch I found myself; it's a nice couch-you should sit in it if you ever get the means. Well, we finished watching Party of Five and were wasting our lives watching the news when the phone call came in. "Yello!" I said into the phone. "Hey, are you guys drinking tonight?" the voice said. Eww, it's Ed. He's always up for getting drunk. "No, why? Do you want to?" "No, Jon went caving and fell some 30 feet. We need to roll," Ed said. "OH SHIT," I retorted. In a matter of minutes, myself, Cristina, Steve, and Ed were in Steve's car (IT'S NOW THE STEVE'S CAR CLUB) and off the 3d to do some rescuing. And what's the first thing you do when going caving_that's right. Mr. J's for some bagels, but we neglected this part of the trip.
Once at the beginning of the cow pasture, Steve took his Jeep to the limits. ROCK Cow tree, Brett. Watch out. With amazing ability, we drove right up to the entrance. Some fire guys were standing around doing nothing when we showed up. Out the car, Ed and Steve took charge of the situation and I followed them, being one to never trust a fireman when there was no fire. So into the cave we went with a paramedic and right to Jon we went. I was a runner, so I stayed a little bit away from the situation in order to relay messages to the surface. Messages were being sent back and forth for what seemed like an hour. Jon was finally ready to be transported out of the cave. Our boy Patrick did some amazing rope rigging thingys in order to hoist Jon out of the chasm that he had fallen into. Well, what they needed now was brute strength, and who do you call for brute strength? That's right-the mob squad himself, John Doroshenk. Jimi and myself were in charge of pulling the rope when people yelled at us. It seemed like I was nothing more than a beast of burden for these other people; they had plushy jobs, like yelling at me to pull. We had him up pretty damn high when the order came: Let him down. Christ, what were they doing?
At this time, the friction of the rope running through the pulling and my hands had become hot, damn hot, the kind of hot that'll make your mom jump the pool boy. Finally restabilized, we pulled Jon back up. Steve positioned himself on the ground, and Jon was slid over him and onto my lap. Steve was completely under him, I was just caught between a rock and Jon. I know all you ladies are envious. After an hour of people repositioning, Jon was ready to move again. Unfortunately, no one was left to lift Jon off my lap, so luckily, I went to UREC last year and still had some muscles left and I lifted Jon off of me and Steve. We then sent Jon on his way through a tunnel on top of people's backs. I climbed around a tighter way and caught back up with him. This time we had to get him up a 15-foot climb. Once again, I was under Jon. I think he has a secret non-sexual crush on me, but I'm not sure. Well, finally we all lifted Jon up the last lift and I didn't see him again. We were left to clean the cave. Cristina had been the phone girl and so we needed to get it out. Doesn't sound tough, but try climbing Jessica's wall with one arm carrying a lead football attached to 3000 feet of wire. Finally we got out and Harrisonburg's own Kent Brockman was there with camera's rolling. Well, we found all the MUSG members and headed out to Singer's Glen fire station. They've got some great eats there. Puts Waffle House to shame. After eating to our hearts' content, it was off to the hospital to see Jon again. I got into his room after the morphine did. He was insistent on giving everyone high fives. What a little trooper. So this weekend, pour one out for our fallen homie.