Bonus Chapter 2: To The Bat Cave!
With the whole band back together, we set out in the morning on a half-hour drive south to
Carlsbad Caverns National Park. As if you couldn’t see that one coming.
The entrance road for the park winds several miles up to the top of a mesa, and visiting early in the morning presented a great opportunity to see some wildlife. In this case, it was not one, not two, but a whole family of bighorn sheep.
When we reached the top of the mesa, we were treated to a view of the morning fog/mist, not yet lifted from the valley below. It’s not often you get to start a day with a view like this.
But of course, we weren’t visiting this place for the view outdoors. That was just a bonus. We were here to see the cave! We even brought an expert along to guide us.
Cave tour tickets are first-come, first-served, so once again it’s wise to use the Rope Drop strategy. This particular day happened to be the Saturday of Easter weekend, and was one of a few fee-free weekends offered by the National Park Service. So we all got to tour the cave without having to pay the normal fee. Not a bad deal if you can get it.
There are two ways to enter the cave: via elevator or by foot via the Natural Entrance trail. We wanted to get the full cave experience, so we chose to walk in. We followed the path out the door and were led to a small pavilion where a ranger gave an orientation/safety talk about the cave and its many thousand residents—the famous Brazilian free-tailed bats of Carlsbad Caverns.
The ranger talked us through the hike (1.25 miles or so), the temperature of the cave (56 deg. F on average), white-nose disease (dangerous to bats), how to kill vampires (wooden stake through the heart), etc., etc. Then we were allowed to head down the trail and into the cave. We walked through the large amphitheater just outside the cave, constructed to give scores of visitors a view of the evening flight of the bats out of the cave as they look for food. We did not stick around for that.
Here’s the motley crew of cave explorers getting ready to do their best Indiana Jones impersonation. Plus, Drew doing whatever it is that Drew does.
The first part of the trail is all steep switchbacks as you descend into the cave.
It was nice that Drew was allowed to accompany us on this hike. In South Dakota, he was too young. In Carlsbad Caverns, the only age restrictions are for the ranger-guided tours. Drew did really well. He only asked to be carried a couple of times while we were down there.
We reached the end of the trail, which links up to the Big Room self-guided trail. This is another 1.25-mile trail that does a loop around…
…wait for it…
…the Big Room.
We did that trail as well. All told, I think we spent about 3 hours or so in the cave. Here are some of the more interesting formations:
This was part of the old historic entrance to the cave. I don’t know why they don’t let people come in this way anymore.
There was also a deep cavern labeled as the “Bottomless Pit”. Now I know what you’re thinking—how do they know? Well, as luck would have it, at that very moment some guy walked past me wearing a Dallas Cowboys hat and a New York Yankees jersey and muttering that “Disney World sucks.” So I tossed him over the edge, and darned if we never heard him hit bottom.
Oh, wait--there was a splat. It’s actually about 140 feet deep.
There is actually a snack bar right in the cave, about 755 feet (230 metres for our Canadian readers) directly below the visitor center. We took a potty break there before riding the elevator up out of the cave. And then we had our customary PB&J sandwiches right there in the parking lot, and there was much rejoicing.
Drew was the picture of peace and contentment after lunch, while Dave helpfully flashed gang signs.
Just one day into the trip and we were already done with New Mexico.
The next stop was just another 45 minutes or so down the road—
Guadalupe Mountains National Park. It was here that we got our first taste of one of the best reasons to visit Texas in the spring—it’s wildflower/cactus bloom season. This is called an ocotillo plant.
And these are called…uh…wildflowers.
The park itself is fairly small as national parks go, and, similar to Zion, is best explored on foot. We didn’t have the time to do that, so we were content to just check out the visitor center and exhibits and collect another National Park passport stamp.
We moved on in the mid-afternoon, heading down into the heart of west Texas. After about an hour through Zombie Apocalypse-level wasteland, we stopped for gas in the town of Van Horn. Then we continued on our way to Fort Davis. We made sure to take U.S. Route 90 on my father’s advice, mostly so we could stop and pamper the women properly. We pulled over at the
Prada store of Marfa, Texas.
Yes, just because we’re in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean that the women don’t deserve fine shoes and handbags. Who says Texans are uncivilized?
This is one of those great oddities you find along the highways in America. Part art project, part practical joke, this was a permanent sculpture by artists Elmgreen and Dragset in 2005. The door doesn’t actually open, but inside are two window displays showing actual Prada shoes from the 2005 collection. Why is it here? I don’t know. It’s art. It doesn’t have to make sense.
With that, we rolled into the town of Fort Davis about an hour later and checked into our hotel for the next two nights—the Indian Lodge in Fort Davis State Park. We then trekked back into town to find some food for dinner, and learned just how far away from civilization we actually were. There was apparently only one restaurant open on Saturday nights in Fort Davis, a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place called Cueva De Leon. I can’t post a link because they don’t have a website. It was crowded, but we were arriving a little later into evening so we were able to seat ourselves inside. There were only two servers covering the greater population of Fort Davis, so things were, to be generous, slow. Our server had clearly had enough as she was arguing with customers over their orders and the amount of time it was taking to get their food. I guess she wasn’t big into receiving tips.
Anyway, I had a taco and an enchilada or a burrito (really, aren’t all these things just the same dish? Meat, lettuce, cheese, salsa wrapped in a tortilla?) and I remember the taco being better. But it was fine. I mean, when you’ve been driving all day and there’s only one place open, you learn pretty quickly to lower your standards for the evening. And not get in a fight with the server.
Coming Up Next: Easter Sunday in Fort Davis.