Australia: Chillagoe Caves
With our sights set on venturing out into the Australian Outback at least once during our two week vacation, my brother and I set our sights on visiting the Chillagoe Caves, a few hours outside of Cairns. The images online looked beautiful and aligned perfectly with our visions of what the Outback would look like. And after the trip concluded, we certainly had a lot of fun at the caves, but not everything went as expected.
Starting out we saw recommendations online to rent a car with four-wheel drive as some of the roads are not paved on the way there. Being cautious city dwellers, and with only one of us actually able to drive, we were trying to mitigate any car issues so we went ahead and booked a four wheel drive SUV. We loaded up on water, snacks, and sunscreen as we knew it would be a long drive, often in very remote locations where we wouldn't have the chance to buy supplies if needed. We downloaded maps of the region on Google Maps offline, as we heard cell coverage was often spotty at best. We eventually set off and it only took my brother a couple of minutes to get somewhat used to driving on the other side of the road (though the car sensors would yell at him for veering out of his lane on the passenger side of the car). Once we were out of Cairns, we eventually were driving through some lush greenery, much to our surprise. I was silently panicking as I promised my brother this would meet his Outback requirements, but it felt more like we were driving through California wine country than the harsh Outback we imagined. After two hours or so we finally started getting into the landscape we imagined, with reddish dirt and barren wildlife. There were plenty of unpaved roads, which our car actually didn't handle too well, often with the back kicking out just enough to give me mini heart attacks. It was also around this time that we started sadly seeing tons of roadkill, exclusively Wallabies, which was heartbreaking to see. The next hour or so was much of the same, with very little signs of life anywhere until we reached the small town outside of the Chillagoe caves around 2 PM.
We went into the visitors center in hopes of finding the next guided tour of a cave, but we found out that we were too late and missed all of the guided tours. To enter the caves, we would have to go on our own and were provided some maps of the best unguided caves to explore. This certainly upped my panic meter, but I couldn't complain as the only reason we arrived late in the afternoon was that I requested to sleep in. Worthwhile sacrifice. Anyway, back to the caves. We drove to the nearest cave that was rated as “Easy” by the visitor center. We expected we would still see some other visitors at this cave. But nope. Not another person in sight. This did increase my anxiety just a bit, as I feel safer in numbers if something goes wrong in the cave. We walked up the cave entrance and saw what can only be described as a hole into hell. It was an opening a few feet wide on the ground, with a steep entrance into complete darkness. I instantly said no, I’ve seen enough videos online of caving accidents to make me terrified of a cave that small. We checked the second entrance and noticed it was a bit bigger, but even more steep and was basically a climb straight down once you were inside. I still was extremely nervous, but felt I had to go in after my brother drove us three hours to get there.
My first worry once entering the cave was that with all the cracks and crevices of the rocks I was gripping onto for balance was that spiders could be everywhere. My solution was to one hand the rocks for balance, and have my other hand firmly locked on my phone to use as a flashlight to examine everything I was planning on touching, as if I put my hand on something and felt a spider, I would have died on the spot. This thorough examination process did slow me down considerably and also piss off my brother considerably, but sacrifices needed to be made to ensure my safety. After a few slips and banging my head on some rocks, we made it to the bottom of the cave. The view looking back up was spectacular, and was actually worth the fear I felt throughout the process. My brother and I took some photos of ourselves and took a few minutes to catch our breath as I had sweat through my shirt despite the cool temperatures of the cave. I’d say that was 50% caused by physical exertion and the other 50% by my body working overtime to prevent a panic attack. What didn’t help was that in this dark pocket in the back of the cave were some flapping noises, so we cautiously went over to examine and flashed my light, noticing around twenty to thirty bats. I instantly turned around and started my journey back up the rocks as quickly as I could. Once we made it back up and out of the cave, I was exhausted from panic and climbing, but my brother wanted to visit one last cave that was supposedly the easiest as it was an above-ground system.
We arrived at our final cave to find that we were once again completely alone, now not having seen another person for over an hour. We started walking through the caves, which were filled with Jurassic Park sized moths. Perfect for pissing me off, as anything that flies at the size of a butterfly and constantly smacks into you is asking to be swatted out of the sky. After another five minutes or so of walking and moth smacking we reached an L shaped turn. I paused before the turn as I was too frustrated with the moths to focus on anything and was ready to go back. My brother told me to toughen up and keep going as I was starting to annoy him with my fear of bugs. He then started walking around the turn while I was trying to regain my composure and I heard him yell. I looked up and he came sprinting around the corner yelling “GO! GO! GO!”. I wasn't sure what he was doing, part of me thought he might be trying to scare me. But then as he ran past me, still standing still, he yelled “DINGO! GO! GO!”. That's all I needed to hear, and I turned on the burners and sprinted as fast as an out of shape man on a bad knee could run. I was kicking up dirt, my legs looking like the Roadrunner when he’s moving. Eventually we get back to our car, jump in and slam the door and I exasperatedly ask him, “What exactly did you see?” Apparently, he saw a Dingo running across the cave and panicked. Understandable in my opinion, though I may have also shat myself on the spot before thinking to run. While a Dingo might not be the most dangerous animal in the world, we had been told multiple stories by tour guides throughout the week of people being attacked by groups of Dingos, so we were already fearful of running into one. But neither of us expected to actually see one in the wild, let alone face one inside of a cave. Thankfully we made it out alive (I know, we are true survivors).
Our three hour journey back was now one filled with laughter as we recounted our glorious escape from a rabid, blood-thirsty beast. While the day certainly didn't go as we expected, it was one of the most fun experiences of my life, and I’m glad I was able to enjoy it with my brother.
