EDWARDS COUNTY, Texas – Special thanks to Geary Schindel, his volunteer crew of climbers, researchers and Texas Parks and Wildlife for this incredible experience.
Right place, right time. That’s how I figure I was blessed with the opportunity to see one of the most fascinating underground structures you’ll ever see. Indulge me, please, as I provide a quick background of how we got here.
Then, I promise I’ll get to the good stuff!
ONE LUCKY GUY
Few people know that when I started at KSAT, I was a full-time news reporter. Granted, I had a meteorology degree and a promise from the news director at the time that I’d fill a soon-to-be-established weather role. Still, I was often stuck covering car accidents and consumer stories. That spurred me to create my own “beat,” and I decided water was the perfect choice.
The aquifer provides a plethora of stories and allowed me to scratch that science itch. Long story short — that’s when I crossed paths with Geary Schindel, who knows just about everything there is to know about geology, hydrology, aquifers and caves.
After a few interviews, I asked him if we could tag along on a few caving expeditions. Schindel fulfilled my wish and then some. I’ve squeezed into many a cave with Geary (and swam in one, too,) and he has thoughtfully explained karst, aquifers and limestone without missing a beat.

Schindel recently “retired,” but I emailed him a few months ago to see what exciting cave trips he had planned. That’s when Schindel told me that he was taking a group of researchers into the Devil’s Sinkhole and offered me a chance to go along.
I couldn’t say “yes” fast enough. After all, going into the sinkhole for even experienced cavers is rare.
TRAINING FOR OUR MISSION
One thing you’ll learn about Schindel is that he’s a stickler for safety. For someone like me, who had never been climbing inside a cave in my life, that’s reassuring.
While caving is one thing, rappelling in and out of a giant hole in the ground is a whole new can of worms. Geary required myself and Gavin Nesbitt, the photojournalist who joined me on this trip, to go through eight hours of training.
Nesbitt and I first practiced ascending with a tree and then upgraded to the Medicine Wall in north Bexar County to work on both rappelling and ascending. Thankfully, after a few trips up and down the cliff, Schindel deemed us ready to do something I never imagined I’d do.

OUR TRIP INSIDE THE DEVIL’S SINKHOLE
Nesbitt and I met up with a large group of cavers, researchers and representatives from Texas Parks and Wildlife in remote Edwards County, where the Devil’s Sinkhole State Natural Area is located, on an early Sunday morning.
If you’ve been there, the hole is, in many ways, unassuming. There are benches around it and a platform where you can look over the edge. Only skilled climbers and researchers are ever allowed into the sinkhole. Even that happens on a rare basis.

One peek over the edge and your legs get a little weak, or at least mine did. It required a mental pep talk to actually hoist myself over that railing and lower myself 150 feet downward.
“Well, it’s unique in Texas,” Schindel said. “It’s a very large collapsed entrance.”
I didn’t do it alone; I had lots of help from Schindel’s experienced crew and Texas Parks and Wildlife, who triple, and oftentimes quadruple-checked the safety equipment.
On the way down, you had no other choice but to soak in the view of your surroundings. It felt otherworldly. You pass by a ring of ferns that I’m told can only be found inside this cave. It’s a cave that has quite a reputation, including a history of injury — not surprisingly — in its early days when it was first being explored.
“A lot of our early vertical techniques were actually developed in this cave and have been applied and used throughout the United States,” Schindel said.

Hitting solid ground was a bit of a relief, but then you look up and realize just how incredible that trip down really was. We watched as more researchers made their way into the cave.
Also going in were Martyn Farr, who just so happens to be one of Europe’s most famous cavers and explorers, and Farr’s wife. It illustrates just how sought after this experience truly is.
“I haven’t been caving in Texas before, so I thought, you know, I’ve just got to come,” said Farr, who hails from Wales. “And what a magnificent place to start out.“
OUR TRIP TO THE ‘LAKE’
Once inside the sinkhole, we weren’t necessarily on solid ground. Guano, sometimes knee deep, sits like a fluffy carpet on the bottom of the cave.
We were told to avoid stirring up the guano dust to avoid histoplasmosis, which is a lung disease you can contract by breathing in spores.

Our guide Paul took us to one side of the sinkhole, where we squeezed down into a small cave.
From there, it was a maze of climbing downward through small crevices. A tight fit for sure, but there was a payoff.
Eventually, we arrived at a crystal, blue lake, some 300 feet below the ground. This was the water table and represented the Edwards Plateau aquifer.
It was a spectacular view.

WHAT ARE THE SCIENTISTS RESEARCHING?
While for Gavin and me this was a bit of an adventure, there was an important reason researchers made this trek. Scientists of numerous disciplines were on the list to go into the sinkhole.
We first visited with Ethan Perrine, a cave biologist out of Austin. He was digging through bat guano to see what kind of creatures he could find.
“We’re still within the photic zone that gets hit with sunlight, but I’m hoping to find some cave-adapted animals,” said Perrine.
Another scientist who made the trip was UTSA geologist Dr. Yongli Gao. His goal was to collect bat guano and stalagmite samples, which can tell us how the climate has evolved over a long period in this area.
“Dating can go as far back as (600,000) to 700,000 years,” explained Gao, who told us this was a rare opportunity to collect data in this environment.
A guano sample can also tell us a lot about what has happened over time.
“That way, we can extend our record of the paleo climate and also paleoecology," said Gao.

Gao even tested the water in the lakes that sit in the lower part of the cave for things like microplastics, which are becoming more and more of an issue for humans.
The most studied subject of all at the Devil’s Sinkhole is the Mexican free-tailed bat, a cherished mammal by farmers in these parts for all the bugs that they eat. We’re told that was the main impetus for this trip.
“Right now, today, the bat population [at Devil’s Sinkhole] is lower than it has been for the last few years,” said Fran Hutchins, director of the Bracken Bat Cave and a local bat expert. “We’re not sure if the bats have moved to another area. This area has had a significant drought for a number of years, so they just may have moved to where there’s a better food source, but we just don’t know.“
To find out, researchers in the cave searched for dead bats and signs of a disease called white-nose syndrome.
“White-nose syndrome is caused by a set of fungus called pseudo mitosis destructors. We call it PD for short,” Hutchins said. “And this cold-loving fungus is affecting our hibernating bats. So, when these bats go into these caves to sleep through the winter, when it’s really freezing cold outside, the fungus grows on them as an irritant.”
The disease is responsible for the deaths of many bats in Texas and across the country.
Thankfully, the researchers didn’t find evidence of the disease in the Devil’s Sinkhole. And that’s a good thing, considering they draw in visitors to the state park from around the world.
“Papua New Guinea, you know, Brazil, Argentina,” listed Andrew Barnebey, a long-time guide at the state natural area. “You know, bats have such a horrible reputation. You know, of course, they can scare you in the night, but they’re the sweetest, kindest little creatures. And the Mexican free-tailed is just astonishing. You know, it weighs what three nickels weigh. It flies 100 miles an hour.”
THE TRIP OUT
After a few hours inside the sinkhole, it was time to climb out. I felt so lucky to be afforded the chance to take in these views.
“You know, you’ll be even luckier if you get out,” Schindel joked.

I succeeded in climbing most of the way (which I had practiced for) and was pulled up for the rest of the way, thanks to the team above. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a few moments of vertigo, but there’s no doubt that it was worth every minute.
All said and done, we spent nearly a full day on the expedition and learned an incredible amount. To add to the adrenaline rush of the day, we reached Kerrville just in time for a massive hailstorm. It was a wild ending to what was a mind-blowing day.
