I really like the word "Spelunk"

I would like to consider myself an amateur spelunker (spelunking is essentially the exploration of caves). My first cave trip happened in 2010. It was a hot summer day, and myself along with Meredith Kessler and Mia Kessler were looking for adventure. My dad, with his random plethora of knowledge regarding cool outdoor places near Hopkinsville, Ky, suggested we go to "Cool Springs Gallery", a cave in neighboring Trigg county. We of course jumped on the idea, and proceeded to gear up with old jeans, head lamps, and dirty tennis shoes. The cave is about 25 minutes from our home, and in order to get to the cave we had to park in a field (presumably with permission from one of my dad's coworkers, but who knows) and then hike "over the river and through the woods to Cool Springs cave we go". 
I'll admit; I was scared. Freezing cold river water flowing in the cave, maybe not so reliable batteries in our lights, cave people living down in crevices, weird spore diseases floating around in the air, and BATS were the major concerns clouding my mind. Once we began the trek in, there was nothing but pure adrenaline and excitement. We had to crawl 50 yards (?) on our hands and knees, occasionally slipping into the frigid water before the landscape opened up into a giant room. Despite the foot high piles of bat guano and the bright orange potentially poisonous salamanders slithering about, it really was very interesting. The room had a slope that led down to the cave stream, so naturally, we decided to create a slip and slide. My dad splashed the slope with water to make it slippery, and then Mer, Mia, and I proceeded to slide down the slope one after the other, occasionally bumping our butts on bothersome potholes. It was completely worth it though; I'm not sure I've ever been that mud-caked or full of laughter before.
When we left the cave, we immediately stripped off all our clothes except for shirts and socks and lied in the stream, trying to cleanse ourselves best as possible. We gathered our belongings (I believe my underwear never made it back) and headed back to the truck, with a celebratory Kentucky Fried Chicken feast calling our name. In the following years, we have been to the cave three times, each trip going a little further back.