5-28-02, Lisa Laird
Lisa's Lair
By Lisa Laird
IPS Features
A Sour Situation
I like a good adventure now and then.
One of the most memorable ones took place in New Hampshire.
I rented a cabin overlooking a lake for one week.
It was so beautiful, so serene; I wanted to make it my permanent
residency. I have that propensity,
as I say that about every vacation spot I’ve ever visited in my life. But this one was truly magnificent.
While vacationing, I decided to tour some caverns.
Dressed in my brand new jogging outfit and stark white sneakers, I was
having a grand ole time making my way into and around these natural wonders.
After the first few, which I examined with a confident ease, I
encountered one with the name “Lemon Squeeze,” or some similar variation of
those words. A guard stood by the
entrance of the cavern like a bouncer at a swanky nightclub, eyeballing all who
dared to approach the site. We were
told that we had to fit through a small, wooden, semi-rectangular shape to see
whether or not we could squeeze through the actual cavern.
I should have been warned when two boys, no older than twelve, attempted
the challenge and quickly retreated. I
overheard them say to their parents, “We’re not going in THERE.”
After climbing through the teeny shape, which was no
piece of cake (after a piece of cake, I would have been wedged permanently), the
guard said it was my turn to do the deed. I
informed him that I couldn’t possibly do this since I was carrying my purse
and video camera. Sorry Charlie. He
offered to watch them for me, so, like a fool, I obliged.
It was then that the nightmare began.
Crawling around on my hands and knees marked the
initiation of my journey. The
opening got progressively smaller and smaller, to the point where I was
literally laying on my stomach, pulling myself along with the strength of my
arms. It was pitch black inside
with solely miniature candles lighting the way.
I had no idea where the path was taking me.
I had three concerns on my panicky mind: 1) I’ll never get out of this
highway to hell. 2) My brand new
outfit and sneakers are now mere rags. 3)
My God, that man has access to my credit cards and video camera!
That last notion placed me over the edge.
I must have set a record time slithering my way through that dark, damp,
eerie maze. I finally approached a
sign that read “DUNGEON,” with an arrow pointing one way.
I instinctually traveled in the opposite direction.
My heart was beating more than crazily.
I needed to get out, out, out, of this nightmare.
Pronto.
Suddenly, I was not only able to crawl again, but could
actually stand upright. Hooray!
I noticed a tall wooden ladder and you would have thought I spied Utopia!
I fled up that slippery thing as though my life was dependent upon it.
It was. I forgot all about
my fear of heights, especially climbing on ladders.
Never before could I step higher then the fourth rung.
But this was one of those times when the reaction to perceived fear takes
over and guides us without first consulting with the logical mind.
When I ran toward the guard, I practically knocked him
to the ground while grabbing for my purse and video camera.
He cheerfully said that I made great timing; I yelled at him unmercifully
for persuading me to partake in such a horribly unpleasant nonsensical ordeal.
Shame on him.
Once assured that my purse was intact with all its
proper belongings, I felt somewhat better.
I took a quick peek inside the video bag and was relieved to see that my
camera was safe and sound, and not replaced by a sack of rocks.
However, my jogging outfit and sneakers did not escape unharmed.
The elbows and knees were filthy, but thankfully, not torn.
The pearly white leather sneakers were no longer new.
They were beaten and battered like the rest of me.
My body ached, I looked like a mess, and nothing remarkably positive was
gained from the experience itself. Big
deal, I climbed a ladder.
I drove back to my cabin, took a shower, and snuggled
under the covers of the comforting bed. Nature
sure is breathtaking; it almost stole mine.
However, I’ll happily avoid being “lemon squeezed” in the future
and view nature from a safe distance. It’s
sweeter that way.
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