My first time at Sótano de las Golondrinas was humbling. It was 2016, I had only been practicing speleology for a year, and I thought I was prepared for one of the world's most famous pits. I was completely wrong.
The Sótano, with its 376 meters of free fall from mouth to bottom, is not technically the most difficult, but it is the most intimidating. When you peer over the edge and see swallows flying in circles 100 meters below you, you understand the true scale of what you're facing.
My first descent was a technical disaster. I used a descender too fast, my ropes heated dangerously from friction, and I reached the bottom with numb hands and burning forearms. Worse still, the ascent took me almost 4 hours when it should have been 2.
That failure motivated me to train seriously. I spent months perfecting my techniques in smaller pits, working in climbing gyms, and above all, learning from veteran speleologists who had mastered these techniques for decades.
I learned that vertical speleology is not about brute force, but about efficiency and technique. The SRT (Single Rope Technique) system requires perfect coordination between ascenders, descenders, and body movement. Every gesture must be economical and precise.
The moment of truth came a year later when I returned to the Sótano as part of a mapping expedition. This time I carried perfected equipment: 10.5mm static ropes, calibrated Petzl ascenders, and a descent system I could control perfectly on long drops.
But the Sótano had a surprise. Halfway through the descent, at about 180 meters, I found a lateral gallery that didn't appear on any map. It was a horizontal passage that went into the main pit wall.
Exploring that gallery required advanced deviation techniques. I had to create temporary anchors on the pit wall to access the passage without being left hanging in the void. I used climbing friends and aid climbing techniques adapted for speleology.
The gallery led me to a spectacular 40-meter diameter room with an underground lake. More importantly, I found evidence that the system continued: air currents and the sound of running water suggested deeper connections.
That discovery taught me that even the most studied caves can hold secrets. Vertical techniques are not just for going down and up, but tools to access spaces that seem impossible to reach.
Since then, I have applied these techniques in vertical systems in Spain, France, and other sites in Mexico. Each pit requires specific adaptations: wind in deep pits, temperature in ice caves, humidity in tropical systems.
Vertical speleology has taught me that technical preparation is fundamental, but mental preparation is equally important. At 200 meters underground, hanging from a rope, your confidence in your equipment and skills is what allows you to enjoy the experience instead of just surviving it.
Today, when I train new speleologists, I always emphasize that vertical techniques are not an end in themselves, but means to access the treasures hidden in the depths of our planet.