A question from a college-age granddaughter set recollections in motion.

“Grandma, when you were in college, did you ever do anything foolish?”

I’m considered a law-abiding, cookie-baking grandma. I surmised the granddaughter wondered what I did in college.

“Not something foolish,” I said. “Not that I recall.”

At college I was a law-abiding, occasional cookie-baking student. When the pressures of finals bubbled up like 7 Up on ice cream, I’d head to my aunt’s place for the week-end.

She vacated the kitchen as I collected cookie-making ingredients. In time, the kitchen counter was clogged with cookies. My aunt called my adult cousins to join the cookie extravaganza.

No, I hadn’t done anything foolish at college except overloading cousins with cookies.

After several weeks, a bolt of remembrance struck. At college, I had done something foolish.

The setting: remote sagebrush land. A Public Health sign—print too small to read from the parked car. Activity: date with a student for nature exploration. Safety preparation: At a cave entrance, my date handed me a flashlight that probably cost $2.

Right then I should have canceled. Why so trusting? A safety-conscious family, we looked out for each other. We would have brought backpacks with quality lighting, first aid supplies, food and water, etc., and others would know our plans.

The date flicked on his flashlight and entered the cave. Clicking on my flashlight, I followed.

Our goal: Follow the path through the cave until we come to a unique area. Then continue on to an exit at the back of the cave.

We struggled to stay on the main path. Even with flashlights, the cave seemed dark. The atmosphere—black. Blacker than licorice, blacker than stormy seas on a moonless night. Like BLACK.

The dry ground turned muddy. Water rose over my ankles as the path narrowed. I placed my feet on either side of the wall, my feet out of the water, my hands on either side of the cave wall, one hand clutching the flashlight with knuckles steadying me as I inched forward.

“Almost there,” my date said.

The wall felt slimy. Bat guano? Did the health department sign caution about rabid bats?

The water level dropped. We slogged on.

“I found the room!” My date inched through the opening on his stomach.

“Come on,” he said.

Miraculously, an antidote to my foolishness —two small groups of cavers showed up.

“We’re continuing on,” said one group leader

My date joined that group.

“We’re going back,” said the other leader.

I joined the group headed home.

My vow never to go underground again faded on a VLB (very low budget) travel plan to Eastern Europe. I explored the Wieliczka salt mine in Poland — active for 700 years.

Through the centuries, the miners sculpted characters, many life-size, from the Last Supper to Snow White.

Next, I traveled on to Krakow, Poland. Legend tells of a cave where a fire-eating dragon lived. The dragon demanded cows to eat.

A shoemaker, the hero, tricked the dragon into eating a ram stuffed with sulfur that 
burned the dragon’s stomach. The dragon slurped up water from the Vistula River, causing the dragon to explode.

On to Oregon. Camping. Kids splashing in Wallowa Lake. Drive to Newberry National Volcanic Monument, Lava River Cave Interpretive Site. Bring or rent two or more light sources. Longest lava tube, a mile long.

The world’s longest and deepest lava tube? Travel to the Kazumura lava tube, Hawaii. Longest at 40 miles and deepest at 3,600 feet.

Curious about a cave with the most bats? Try Bracken Cave Preserve, Texas — home to 20 million bats. Who counted the bats?