You Think You're So Hardcore

I understand "hardcore" dives. I understand the appeal of the dives that "no one ever does." I understand the pull of stuff so off the beaten track that even having heard of it gives you some sort of bragging rights.

Over the last couple of days I've been diving a cave out in the middle of nowhere that a friend has been exploring and surveying for years. At one point we even found ourselves in a pretty big-ass room that, in all likelihood, we are the only people to have ever seen it.

Tomorrow Nelly's and my plan is to dive one of those places that is pretty well out of the way, too.

But you know what?

I like Taj. I like Mayan Blue. Etc. In an area where there are literally hundreds of caves, the "tourist caves" are becoming old friends now.

And while some people might prefer to talk to everyone at a party for 5 minutes, I'd far prefer to get to know one person really well, maybe become life-long besties. (Honestly: good luck getting me to go to a party in the first place.)

I intend to live here for a good, long time. And I expect I'll get to know some of the esoteric passages in the esoteric caves really well in that time, too. But I have no intention of introducing people to those obscure caves, the places that are delicate or difficult or filled with undisturbed silt layers or simply can't handle the traffic even if everyone does have their shit together.

Also: if you can't find something that blows your mind in Mayan Blue it's because you don't know where to look.