The Boy and I went on a one-of-a-kind Scouting adventure this weekend: we spent the evening rambling around an enormous cave system, then spent the night in said cave.

We all met in the parking lot around six, gear in hand, all excited, with the adults (well, speaking for myself anyway) a little anxious about how all the details might work out.

Our first stop — our camp location. It was an enormous room, with a relatively high ceiling and a length probably five times or more its width.

After we dropped off our belongings, it was time to explore. We had what’s called a wild tour, which mean we got to go to places most tourists don’t see and crawl through passages and openings that left us covered in clay and dirt.

Finally, it was bedtime. It was then that the fun began: the echoing snores; the footfalls that reverberated throughout the cave as people plodded to the bathroom; and a whole host of mysterious noises.

We made it out at a little past seven in the morning — as instructed — and after breakfast, headed home.

The Girl was in Knoxville, playing volleyball.