As a child, my dad often led us on hikes up above Tony Grove and showed us sink holes, deep pits that dropped down to China. His father had shown him where they were and the locations are a closely guarded secret. We'd throw rocks in and listen for them to hit the bottom, and often we never heard the final clunk.
My brother Lance, climber and caver extraordinaire and the cave expert for Northern Utah's Search and Rescue, is well equipped to lead expeditions down said sink holes. And that is just what we did one fine Wednesday evening.
The sink hole we went down is named Thundershower. We rappelled down the initial pit, and wiggled our way in a hole (the first of many wigglings or birth therapy as I like to call it). After a bit of climbing, it opened up into a beautiful room decorated with all sorts of cave features (stalagmites, stalactites, flow stone, columns, and such). Then we rappelled down another pit, did some more climbing, and ended in a pool room.
The cool, dusty yet dank air smelled delicious. The water ever trickling and sometimes pouring it's way through the passages was icy cold and we were soaked through.
On the climb back out, Lance intentionally left me behind. I took a wrong turn, of course, and climbed (with difficulty) my way straight up a soggy dead end. Lance says he often does this just to show people how easy it is to get lost in caves. He's a big fat meanie dirtbag sometimes.
We used ascenders and got ourselves back out of the hole. It was great fun. And just so you know,
stalactites hand tight (from the ceiling) and
stalagmites might reach the ceiling.
Except when one of is a cranky, carsick, and past one's bed time. 
