Existing as one of the last unexplored frontiers on Earth, sheltered from the warm sunlight, hailing rains, snow, and lighting of the outside world, caves are natural unexplored beauties of the Earth. And yet, in Kentucky, Indiana, Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia there is a combination of over 24,700 caves according to the National Speleological Society (NSS) right underneath the chaos of human life. Under our workplaces, homes, and roads, they exist, taking thousands of years to form even the smallest formation, also housing some of the rarest creatures.

This huge population of caves is unique to the Midwest and south region in the United States, and although niche, it does not go completely unnoticed. A unique community of around only 10,000 individuals who often refer to themselves as "cavers," "explorers," or even "surveyors" have dedicated their lives, even putting their own on the line, to protect and adventure into these darkest places on earth.

Some find peace, others find excitement, education, adventure. Whatever these cavers are looking for, many have found solace in these places. So I dared to ask the question… why?

It wasn't until I met Kelly Smallwood, a 48-year-old woman living in the cusp of the T.A.G (Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia) caving region in South Pittsburg, TN, that I began to truly understand the extent of caving as a lifestyle.

Kelly once described her life as someone who was living the American dream. After marrying her high-school sweetheart and having a daughter with him, her life was stable and consistent. But also, somewhat repetitive. The excitement of her life was going to the grocery store, and for Kelly, this repetitiveness forced her to look within herself and say,

That "more" she discovered was to become a project caver. After joining the Dogwood City Grotto in Atlanta, Georgia, Kelly began to fall in love with not just the excitement of discovering new caves and formations, but also the community of cavers that supported her and helped her find a connection that was partially lost when she and her ex-husband finally separated.

After finding this community and connection that had been missing in her life so long, she took a chance and decided to move to Chattanooga.

The pull to the caving region was undeniable for Kelly. Though her family initially worried about her move, even if only 2.5 hours away, Kelly felt confident in her decision. The caves called to her in a way that was impossible to ignore.

In Chattanooga, her caving life intertwined with her personal life when she met Jason, who shared her passion. Their relationship grew through shared caving adventures, with Jason often carrying her camera equipment during expeditions. What began as casual dating evolved very real relationship.

Eventually, they built a life together, crafting a custom home in South Pittsburg, TN, right on the side of a mountain cove, as close to caves as they could get. Kelly described the home as containing "blood, sweat and tears," because of how much time and effort they put into building their own new space

This foundation of support would prove crucial when Kelly faced an unexpected and life-altering diagnosis just three days after moving into their new home.

The diagnosis came after Kelly noticed concerning symptoms. She scheduled a doctor's appointment. During an ultrasound, she could tell something was wrong. "I could see all these colors, like bright colors. And I was just like, it's not right."

The news was devastating. Receiving the news alone at the doctors office, Kelly immediately called Jason, who was at home doing chores. "And of course he was in disbelief," she said.

The physical toll of chemotherapy was significant, causing severe nausea, body aches, and fatigue. Kelly kept a journal to track her side effects and learn the patterns of her treatment cycles.

Despite her doctor's advice not to "go home and just sit on the couch" to avoid depression, Kelly was determined to continue caving in some capacity.

She adapted her caving to her physical limitations, focusing on pits that were 100 feet or less and using a special pink rope given to her by a friend. Even fastening a small pillow over the port on her chest, so it was more comfortable to squeeze through the tight spaces in the caves with it still attached to her body.

The caves offered Kelly a mental escape from her cancer battle.

With Jason's support, she felt safe continuing her passion even during treatment.

Following chemotherapy, Kelly faced difficult decisions about surgery and reconstruction. Her initial surgery to remove her breast left her feeling "mangled." After careful consideration, she decided against reconstruction, concerned about the impact on her mobility for caving.

Beyond physical considerations, she also questioned the aesthetic results and found support in online groups for women who chose to stay flat after cancer.

The process of healing was complicated by radiation treatments, which delayed further surgeries. When Kelly finally found a surgeon willing to "clean up" her chest, she developed an open wound that prevented her from caving for months—"the longest time that I ever went without caving." This separation from her passion was difficult, but she was determined to return.

The cancer experience completely changed Kelly’ outlook on life.

Working in customer service, she often encountered people upset about trivial matters, reinforcing her new outlook: "There's so much more to life to worry about."

The physical changes resulting from her cancer treatment also prompted Kelly to confront issues of body image and self-acceptance. Initially ashamed and hiding her changed body, she eventually reached a place of acceptance:

She even came to see her flat chest as an opportunity to raise awareness about breast cancer.

During her treatment, Kelly experienced an outpouring of support from the caving community. When she lost her hair, friends secretly organized a campaign to send her hats, which arrived unexpectedly in the mail.

These tangible expressions of care deeply touched her, and she kept the hats as meaningful mementos even after her hair grew back.

Now, eight years cancer-free, Kelly acknowledges the ongoing uncertainty that comes with a cancer diagnosis.

Kelly's cancer experience has also deepened her commitment to education and awareness. She emphasizes the importance of open conversation about breast cancer:

In addition to raising awareness, Kelly continues to give back to her community through her involvement with the Boy Scouts, taking them caving and rappelling. She also started a YouTube channel to document her adventures, hoping to leave a legacy for her daughter and future generations.

Just as caves are fragile, slow to form, and often misunderstood, people too can be vulnerable, require time to heal, and be complex in ways others may not immediately comprehend. Yet in the darkness—whether literal or metaphorical—there is beauty, strength, and the potential for growth.