Today we will be looking at two horrifying caving stories that went horribly wrong. However, this time both stories take place in the same cave in the same year and go horribly wrong for the same exact reason. Only the second incident was far worse than the first. As always, viewer discretion is advised.
In early June 1988, a caving team made a discovery in Hicks Cave, Kentucky that should have served as a warning to everyone. What they found in a previously flooded pit would become a curious attraction for teams throughout that summer. But this was more than just an interesting geological curiosity. It was a death trap waiting to claim victims.
And by October of that same year, it would showcase its true colors. Hicks Cave is part of the Hidden River Complex in Kentucky, an extensive 20-m long system of essentially horizontal passages that extends into the sinkhole plane south of the Green River upstream from Mammoth Cave National Park. Unlike the vertical caves that require rope work and technical climbing, Hicks Cave is primarily walking and crawling passages that wind for miles through the limestone bedrock.
The J Survey section of Hicks Cave is located far from the Green River entrances. Deep within the system where survey teams had been methodically mapping passages for over a decade. This area featured a stream that normally rose around station J 278 and flowed along the passage before dumping into what caving experts called a slump pit at station J247, an 8×7 ft depression in the mud floor of the cave.
From 1976 through 1987, approximately 15 different survey parties had passed by this slump pit during their mapping expeditions. Every single one of them had observed the same thing. A pool of water at least 2 ft deep at the bottom of the pit with no apparent continuation beyond. The water-filled pit seemed to be nothing more than a low spot where the stream collected before presumably draining slowly through cracks in the bedrock.
There was no reason to investigate further and certainly no reason to climb down into standing water in a mud floored depression. But the spring of 1988 brought unusual weather conditions to Kentucky. A drought that began in the spring and continued through the summer produced dramatically low water levels in all the caves throughout the region.
Streams that normally flowed year round were reduced to trickles or dried up completely. Pools that had been permanent features for decades suddenly exposed bedrock that hadn’t been seen in living memory. On Memorial Day weekend in 1988, a survey party passed by station J 247 and noticed something remarkable.
The slump pit that had contained a 2-ft deep pool for as long as anyone could remember was completely dry. The drought had lowered the water table enough that the pit had drained, exposing the mud floor and whatever features might lie beneath the former pool. This discovery was exciting for Survey Mind its spelunkers.
A previously water-filled feature was now accessible, and there was the tantalizing possibility of finding a new passage beyond what had appeared to be a terminal sump. If there was a continuation beneath where the water had been, it could potentially lead to significant new discoveries in the hidden river complex.
In early June, Phil Odell organized and led a team specifically to investigate the newly accessible J247 slump pit. The goal was to determine if there was any passage continuation that had been hidden beneath the water for the past 12 years or more. Odell and his team made their way through the Hicks cave passages to station J2 247.
Probably excited about the prospect of pushing a new cave. When they reached the slump pit, Odell examined the climb down into the depression. He found it to be relatively easy. The 8×7 ft pit wasn’t particularly deep or technical, just a matter of carefully lowering yourself down into the mud floor depression.
At the bottom, beneath an overhanging section of flow stone, Odell could see what looked like a promising lead, a passage approximately three feet high by 1 to 2 ft wide. This was definitely worth investigating. Odell descended into the slump pit to get a closer look at the potential continuation. He reached the bottom of the pit and began examining the low passage beneath the Flowstone overhang.
But within seconds of reaching the bottom, something went terribly wrong. Odell was using a carbide lamp as his source of light. Carbide lamps produce a steady white flame that provides excellent light for caving. But suddenly, Odell’s lamp flame changed dramatically. The normal white flame turned bright yellow and extended to an abnormal length of 6 to 8 in.
Even more strangely, the base of the flame was positioned about 2 in away from the lamp’s orifice rather than directly at the gas outlet. This bizarre flame behavior was an immediate warning sign that something was wrong with the atmosphere in the pit. Before Odell could fully process what he was seeing, he began experiencing physical symptoms.
In less than a minute, he became dizzy. His breathing felt labored and insufficient, as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs despite breathing normally. His coordination deteriorated rapidly, and he found himself bouncing off the passage walls as he tried to move. Odell’s experience and training kicked in despite his impaired state.
He recognized that he was in bad air, an atmosphere with insufficient oxygen or excessive carbon dioxide or other gases. He knew that he needed to get out of the pit immediately before the symptoms progressed to an unconsciousness or worse. Odell quickly climbed back up out of the slump pit to the J Survey passage level where the air quality was normal.
His companions helped him as he emerged from the pit. Probably concerned by his obvious distress and disorientation, Odell sat in the better air and focused on breathing deeply, allowing his body to recover from the brief exposure to the bad atmosphere. After several minutes of breathing normal air, Odell’s symptoms subsided, his breathing returned to normal, the dizziness faded, and his coordination improved.
He had been fortunate to recognize the danger quickly and extract himself before suffering more severe effects from the bad air. To confirm and demonstrate what Odell had experienced, one of his companions conducted a simple test. He placed a candle on the floor of the slump pit and watched what happened. The flame was extinguished in just 15 seconds.
dramatic proof that the atmosphere at the bottom of the pit was incapable of supporting combustion and therefore incapable of supporting human life for any extended period. Following this incident, Tom Allers compiled a detailed accident report documenting Odell’s experience. The report prompted research into what exactly was happening in the J247 slump pit.
Odell and others conducted library research and consulted with state of Kentucky mining experts and water specialists to understand the atmospheric conditions they had encountered. The conclusion was that the air in the slump pit was high in carbon dioxide and dangerously low in oxygen. The depression was essentially acting as a trap for heavy gases, particularly carbon dioxide, which is denser than normal air and tends to collect in low-lying areas with poor circulation.
The drought conditions that had drained the water from the pit had also exposed this atmospheric hazard that had been masked by the standing water for over a decade. Throughout the summer of 1988, the J247 slump pit became something of an attraction for survey parties working in that section of Hicks Cave.
Teams would stop at station J247 specifically to demonstrate the bad air phenomenon. It became an educational stop on survey trips. But what was treated as an interesting curiosity and teaching opportunity during the summer would become the site of nightmare in October. The bad air that had been demonstrated safely from the rim of the pit would reveal its true self.
The warning signs were clear. The danger was known and documented. But the J247 slump pit wasn’t finished claiming attention from the caving community. On October 8th, 1988, four caving experts descended into Hicks Cave in Kentucky. Four months had passed since Phil Odell’s discovery of the bad air at station J 247 in Hicks Cave.
Throughout the summer of 1988, that slump pit had become a curiosity, a teaching opportunity where survey teams would stop to demonstrate the atmospheric hazards that could exist in cave systems. But summer had turned to fall, and the drought that had drained the pit and exposed the bad air continued.
By October, the atmospheric conditions in that section of Hicks Cave had changed in ways that nobody understood or anticipated. At around noon on Saturday, October 8th, the team of four gathered at the W entrance to Hicks Cave, several miles south of where the cave’s underground rivers resurge into the Green River. The group consisted of Tom Hollers, who was 40 years old and was the one who compiled Odell’s accident report in the Hicks cave system.
He was along Duke Hopper, 41, who was equally experienced in exploring and surveying this 20 m long maze. With them were Larry Peterson, 40, and Barbara Graham, who at 22 was the youngest member of the group. The war entrance required descending an 85 ft 26 m vertical drop to reach the horizontal passages below.
The four rigged their ropes and descended one by one, leaving their vertical gear at the bottom of the entrance pit. They wouldn’t need the rope equipment for the rest of the trip since Hicks Cave was primarily horizontal walking and crawling passages. The entrance was blowing outward as it typically did in cool weather, creating a chimney effect with the lower entrances on the Green River about 150 ft below.
The group had a specific mission for this trip. They plan to collect samples of black material from two locations in the cave. One at station 024 and another from the stream bed that connected stations J 278 and J 247. These samples would be analyzed to determine if the stream at 024 was related to the stream in the J survey section, which would help map the underground hydraology of the hidden river complex.
The four spelunkers made their way through the passages toward their first collection site at 024. They collected their samples there and then proceeded approximately 2,000 ft further into the cave toward the J survey section. This route required navigating the climb down of the 40ft high J280 dome, a significant vertical obstacle in an otherwise horizontal cave system.
They descended carefully and continued toward their second collection site near station J 247. Station J247 was, of course, the location of the slump pit where Phil Odell had encountered bad air back in June. The pit that had contained a 2-ft deep pool from 1976 through 1987 was still dry from the ongoing drought.
The lead beneath the Flowstone overhang at the bottom of the pit remained unexplored, though it was reportedly one of the last potential connections to Hidden River Cave further upstream. Hidden River Cave had an infamous reputation in the Kentucky caving community. It was heavily polluted, contaminated by sewage and industrial waste from the town of Horse Cave City.
The cave’s atmosphere was often described as vile, and the stream that flowed through it carried pollution that eventually discharged into springs in the Green River. There was speculation that the underground water systems were connected, and apparently the lead at the bottom of the J247 slump pit smelled similar to Hidden River Cave.
As the four approached station J247, they stopped approximately 5 to 10 feet short of the slump pit to prepare their sample collection equipment. This positioning was deliberate and cautious given the known bad air hazard in the pit. They began removing their packs and organizing their gear for the sampling work.
Peterson removed his helmet with its attached carbide lamp and set down his pack. Graham also removed her pack. Hopper set aside his ammo box camera case and took off his pack as well. Allers removed his right glove. As they were organizing their equipment, someone noticed a smell in the passage. A subtle odor that wasn’t petroleum based and wasn’t the distinctive smell of ethylmer captain that’s added to natural gas.
It was described as somewhat like extra strong mold, an unusual scent that none of them could quite identify. Hopper and ers were positioned nearest to the slump pit with Peterson and Graham standing about four to 5 ft further back up the passage. The group was ready to collect their water sample from the stream that flowed past the pit.
Duke Hopper moved toward the slump pit carrying a sample bottle. His carbide lamp was burning normally, producing the steady white flame. He approached cautiously, aware of the bad air hazard that had been documented 4 months earlier. When he was approximately 2 to 3 feet from the rim of the pit, something extraordinary and terrifying happened.
A bright blue fireball suddenly appeared near the ceiling of the passage, directly in front of Hopper’s carbide lamp. The fireball was about 2 ft in diameter, hovering in the air like some kind of supernatural phenomenon. Hopper’s immediate reaction was confusion. He thought his carbide lamp base had somehow split open or malfunctioned.
But 2 seconds later, before anyone could process what they were seeing or react to the fireball, the entire area over the slump pit exploded with a tremendous whoosh. The explosion was instantaneous and overwhelming, filling the passage with flames that seemed to materialize from the very air itself. Tom Allers suddenly found himself surrounded by wisps of blue flame dancing in the air around him.
Both Allers and Hopper dove backward instinctively, hitting the cave floor hard as the explosion erupted. The blue light from the flames became the sole source of illumination in the passage. All four carbide lamps had been blown out by the force of the explosion. Barbara Graham and Larry Peterson standing four to 5 ft back from Hopper and Allers were outside the immediate blast zone of flames but were so alarmed by what they were witnessing that their survival instincts took over immediately.
Without conscious thought, both of them turned and began crawling frantically back up the passage. Desperate to put distance between themselves and the inferno that had erupted at the slump pit. Hopper and ers were engulfed in the flames. They had no idea where to go. The fire kept burning, refusing to die down. It felt like standing in front of a dragon’s mouth, a non-stop flamethrower pouring heat at them.
Relying only on muscle memory, Hopper and Olers started moving away from the pit blindly. They reached a point where they could finally see each other, but the heat was so extreme that it could take their lives at any moment. They had to act, and they had to act now. Both men realized they were now beneath the flames, pressed against the cave floor where they could still breathe relatively good air.
The fire was above them, feeding on gases that were lighter than air or mixed with the normal atmosphere at ceiling height. But they couldn’t stay where they were. The passage was being filled with the rumble of fire. They had to crawl for their lives. Hopper and ers began crawling back up the passage, keeping their noses pressed to the cave floor where the air was still breathable.
They crawled beneath a ceiling of flames and heat, moving as fast as they could while staying low enough to avoid the worst of the fire above them. The first 40 ft of their escape was accomplished in this terrifying position, crawling on their bellies with blue flames dancing overhead. Imagine 40 ft, more than 12 m. Larry Peterson looked back from where he and Graham had retreated and saw an image that would be burned into his memory forever.
Two silhouettes crawling through a wall of flame, their forms barely visible through the fire and heat. He felt a blast of intense heat wash over him, even from where he was positioned. And he continued moving away from the inferno. After crawling 40 to 50 feet from the slump pit, Hopper and Oers paused and looked back at what they had escaped from.
The flames weren’t following them up the passage, but back at J247, the scene was apocalyptic. The slump pit looked like a giant sterno can with flames burning wallto-wall in the wide passage. A wall of solid blue flame started just a few inches above the top of the slump pit and extended upward, filling the passage.
The rumble of the burning gases created a deep, steady roar that echoed through the cave. Hopper had burns, but was able to continue, and noticed that his right hand took a brunt from the explosion. Their two companions had already moved out of sight further up the passage. So Hopper and shared Aller’s flashlight, the only functioning light they had between them, and continued heading toward the cave entrance.
Peterson and Graham had stopped at a point where the passage gained enough height for walking rather than crawling. When Hopper and Allers caught up with them, the group took stock of their situation. ARS was the only one who still had his pack, which contained extra carbide fuel and two spare flashlights, plus an extra carbide lamp.
They managed to relight two of the carbide lamps that had been blown out by the explosion, giving them adequate light to continue their exit. But much of their equipment had been left behind at the slump pit at packs, the camera, samples they had collected, various pieces of gear that had been set aside when they were preparing to collect water samples.
Nobody wanted to go back to retrieve the abandoned equipment. The slump pit was still burning, filling that section of passage with flames and heat, and none of them had any desire to return to that inferno. They made the decision to abandon the gear and focus on getting out of the cave safely.
The group began their exit, retracing the route they had taken into the cave. They climbed back up the 40ft J280 dome, navigated through the 2,000 ft of passage back toward the 024 area and eventually reached the bottom of the 85 ft entrance pit. They rigged their rope and ascended one by one back to the surface, emerging from the W entrance at approxima
tely 4:30 p.m. 4 and 1/2 hours after they had entered the cave that morning. Once on the surface, they examined their injuries. Duke Hopper had burns on his face where the intense heat had affected his exposed skin. Toms discovered that the hair on his right hand had been burned off and the pain was intense. Both men had been wearing cotton coveralls that had become damp during their time in the cave.
And this dampness had actually protected them to some degree. Cotton, especially when damp, is relatively less flammable than synthetic materials. And this probably saved them from more serious burns. The question that haunted all of them as they examined what had happened was what had exploded. Tom Allers began researching possible explanations for the fireball and subsequent passage fire.
One theory was that flammable gases had been driven into Hicks Cave from Hidden River Cave. The previous weekend, the area had received 3 to 4 inches of rain, a significant amount that would have raised water levels throughout the connected cave systems. If Hidden River Caves contaminated water contained dissolved gases or vapors from the pollution that plagued that system, those gases could have been forced through underground connections into Hicks Cave, accumulating in the low-lying slump pit where there was insufficient air circulation to disperse
them. Another possibility was that one of the natural gas or oil wells in the area was leaking. Kentucky has numerous oil and gas wells, and if one near the cave had developed a leak, methane or other petroleum gases could have migrated through the bedrock into the cave passages, particularly accumulating in areas like the J247 slump pit, where there was minimal air movement.
What made this incident particularly alarming was the complete lack of warning before the explosion. In June, when Phil Odell had descended into the pit, his carbide lamp had shown clear signs of bad air. The flame had turned yellow and extended abnormally. But in October, when Hopper approached the pit with his lamp, the flame appeared normal right up until the moment the fireball appeared.
There had been only that subtle unusual smell that nobody could identify. No visual warning from the lamp flame. No other indication that explosive gases were present in high enough concentrations to ignite. The four were also extraordinarily lucky that neither ers nor Hopper had breathed any of the burning vapors during their escape.
The fact that they had stayed low, keeping their faces near the floor where the air was cooler and less contaminated with combustion products had probably saved their lives. As Tom Olers noted in his accident report, good luck is sometimes the most beneficial factor of all. The four spelunkers had been fortunate in numerous ways.
They weren’t in the pit when the gases ignited. They were positioned to retreat quickly. They stayed low beneath the flames where air was breathable. They had functioning lights to navigate their exit. And nobody sustained injuries serious enough to impair their ability to escape.
