As noted yesterday, we have been underwhelmed by the town of Carlsbad, but hope that Carlsbad Caverns will be the antidote. As this the Labour Day long weekend, that means families will be out in full force at the park, so we start off early. Yay for our National Park Pass, which once again gains us free admission. The US government is going to be peeved at just how many parks we've hit. :-)
You have two options to get to the caves: either walk down through the natural entrance to the cave, or ride the elevator. As we're not physically infirm, we see no reason to ride the elevator. We walk out to the natural entrance, and are confronted with a stop sign. "STOP! Assess hiking fitness!" Yeah, we're good. We go on, and there's another warning sign. And another. Long hike - steep incline - darkness. Warning signs for weak knees and exhaustion. We laugh at the idea (exhausted people with weak knees glare at us).
After all these warnings, there's a ranger waiting for you, and he gives you one last warning speech. Long steep descent, make sure you're physically fit. Hold onto the handrails, be quiet in the caves, don't let your kids run around, don't touch the rock, don't throw anything in the pools, and use the toilets now because there's no restrooms underground and it's illegal to pee in the caves (yes, people do that, apparently).
Roger that, ranger. We don't have any bladder or knee problems, so we're good to go.
Down the ramp into the wide gaping mouth of the cave. We're a short distance down, and I wrinkle my nose. "I smell bat poo." (I later discover that it's not bat poo - which is more correctly called "guano" - but it's bird poo. There are many cave swallows living in the entrance, so that's where they poo, too.)
The natural entrance trails downward in a long, looping switchback down, and you slowly move out of the sunlight, into shadow, and then into semi-darkness (and what would be total darkness if it weren't for the dim lighting that they have along the way). It really is quite dark, and you do have to be careful of your footing as the incline may very suddenly get steeper.
In spite of the multitude of warnings topside, as Stephen and I are descending, we pass three people who are moving VERY slowly. One of them was hobbling and complaining that "it really hurts" (their knees, of course), and another one was noticeably gasping and panting.
A few twisty turns of the path downward and we meet a ranger, let him know that there are some people back there having problems. "Are they about your size?" he asked hopefully. Um, no - a bit bigger. Sorry about that, dude. He seemed sadly resigned to his fate.
If you ever go to Carlsbad (and you don't have bad knees), make sure you do take the natural entrance. You miss out on a whole lot of cave if you take the elevators.
The caves themselves are amazing, and it really is impossible to describe them. Also, due to the low light and the scale of everything around you, very difficult to photograph. The "Big Room" is huge, and yes, there's stalactites and stalagmites, cave pearls, rock formations that look like moss or popcorn. One large stalagmite that is wet with constant water, and it appears to be slowly melting away.
At one place, there was a large hole in the ground, obviously going to lower caves, and an old wire and wood ladder dangling over the edge. This was left there from one of their exploratory expeditions in the 1930s. Man, that is one scary ladder into one dark hole. No thank you.
At another point, we could see wooden stairs climbing up into a rock tunnel. Visitors in the 50s came down the ramps into the natural entrance, then had to climb those stairs all the way out again. Wow, can you imagine that bottleneck? Strong knees indeed. :-)
Yes, Stephen and I would have taken the stairs (it's a challenge!), but you're not allowed to. Everyone rides up on the elevator now.
I think we spent over an hour of wandering through the caves before we were at the elevators. We timed our visit well, because just as we were getting ready to leave, a mass of people with noisy children come spilling out of the elevators.
Sadly, it looks like they've discontinued the kitschy 1950's style Underground cafeteria (apparently the park service has been trying to shut it down for a while - guess they succeeded). You can see where the cafeteria was, although there's just a small refrigerator with bottled drinks there now, and some tables for you to sit down at. There are two souvenir t-shirt kiosks as well. And yes, they are a bit garish and tacky - but if people didn't love garish and tacky, would Vegas be so popular?
The elevator ride back to the surface is a 750-foot ascent. It's like a cattle car, in more ways than one. (Moo. Somebody in here stinks.)
It's now about noon, and we don't have tickets to any tours (because apparently they sell out weeks or months in advance. Who knew?). There's the bat flight in the evening, but that's many hours away, and there's nothing to do in Carlsbad, so we've decided to drive out to Guadalupe Mountain National Park just over the border in Texas.
At the visitor centre in Guadalupe Mountain National Park, there's a man asking the ranger about how to get rid of "chiggers". I have no idea what chiggers are, but from the sounds of his conversation, I'm guessing it's some kind of itchy tick thing that burrows under the skin. Eek! I glance at my capris and resolve to avoid McKittrick Canyon (which is where he said he picked them up).
Guadalupe Mountains is another relatively unspoiled national park, very little in the way of roads, and lots of hiking and camping. There's the 8.4 mile hike to the top of Guadalupe Peak (the highest point in Texas), but that's listed as strenuous, and the rangers say that takes about 6 to 8 hours, and we don't have time. We look at the shorter day hikes, and decide on the 4.2 mile Devil's Hall trail because it has some narrow canyons and natural rock stairs.
We grab our backpacks, fill up with water, and set off on our hike. My capris are good because it's a hot day, and they are not good because there are many scratchy grasses and yuccas swiping at my legs. (Hopefully no chiggers!)
It's not steep, but it is a steady climb uphill for a while, and it's hot. There's a lot of walking along a dry wash, climbing over rocks and then up and over boulders. Finally, we get to the rock staircases, climb up and go through the narrow canyon, which must be where it got the name of Devil's Hall.
(Devil's Hall is a narrow canyon, yes, but it's a short distance and not nearly as tight as Little Wild Horse Canyon.)
On the way back, we take out our hiking poles, and they are so helpful when it comes to clambering back down all the rocks we've just climbed over. Should have been using them on the way in.
I'm a little bit sad that we don't have the time to try to climb Guadalupe Peak. Next time, Guadalupe; next time. The mountain is unimpressed.
Back to Carlsbad Caverns, where we still have two hours to burn before the bat flight. A sandwich and a cookie at the cafeteria eats up a bit of time. We start reading books in the bookstore for a while ("hey, it ain't a library, pal!"), and eventually we decide, "To the bat cave!" And we swoop off to the amphitheater to find a place to sit.
Fortunately, we decided to head in early. The amphitheater seats about 1,000, and it's eventually packed to overflowing. Thankfully, the ranger reminds parents to take cranky kids out, as we're all supposed to be QUIET so that the bats come out. Some parents are diligent about this; others, not so much. :-/
It's around 7:30 when the bats finally start flying out. Most of them immediately head off over the hills, but a few fly close by us. They're smaller than you'd expect (maybe because we most commonly see vampire bats in horror movies), and there's estimated to be about 300,000 to 500,000 roosting in the caverns. And yes, they fly out every night.
Two seconds after the bats start flying, some people are ready to leave (obviously intent on being part of the big traffic jam out of the park). Stephen and I figure we might as sit and watch the bats for a while - that's what we came for, after all.
When it got too dark to see them any more, we briefly chatted with one of the park rangers; I asked about the poo smell when the bats were flying out - this is where we learned it was the bird droppings that stink - when the bats all come flying out in their little tornado, they create a nice little breeze that wafts that scent back up to us. So, it turns out that bats aren't as stinky as I at first supposed. :-)
At this point, it's 9 p.m., and it's very dark outside. The caverns are a good distance away from Carlsbad, and you can see so many stars in the sky. Venus is glowing brightly, and Stephen thinks he's picked out Mars as well. We found the big dipper, and I think I can actually see the North Star (which I usually have a hard time finding). There's also a pale sweep of light that Stephen says is the milky way. Sweet! (Maybe not quite as sweet as the Milky Way chocolate bar, but close.)
Driving back into Carlsbad, we stop at a Wal-Mart, where we behold yet more wonders. A pizza for $1.25! A case of Diet Coke with Lime for $4.00 (no deposit)! Some weird soda called Dr. Thunder and Diet Dr. Thunder! Booze!
Yes, folks, it's a bizarre and exciting new world down here.
You have two options to get to the caves: either walk down through the natural entrance to the cave, or ride the elevator. As we're not physically infirm, we see no reason to ride the elevator. We walk out to the natural entrance, and are confronted with a stop sign. "STOP! Assess hiking fitness!" Yeah, we're good. We go on, and there's another warning sign. And another. Long hike - steep incline - darkness. Warning signs for weak knees and exhaustion. We laugh at the idea (exhausted people with weak knees glare at us).
After all these warnings, there's a ranger waiting for you, and he gives you one last warning speech. Long steep descent, make sure you're physically fit. Hold onto the handrails, be quiet in the caves, don't let your kids run around, don't touch the rock, don't throw anything in the pools, and use the toilets now because there's no restrooms underground and it's illegal to pee in the caves (yes, people do that, apparently).
Roger that, ranger. We don't have any bladder or knee problems, so we're good to go.
Down the ramp into the wide gaping mouth of the cave. We're a short distance down, and I wrinkle my nose. "I smell bat poo." (I later discover that it's not bat poo - which is more correctly called "guano" - but it's bird poo. There are many cave swallows living in the entrance, so that's where they poo, too.)
The natural entrance trails downward in a long, looping switchback down, and you slowly move out of the sunlight, into shadow, and then into semi-darkness (and what would be total darkness if it weren't for the dim lighting that they have along the way). It really is quite dark, and you do have to be careful of your footing as the incline may very suddenly get steeper.
In spite of the multitude of warnings topside, as Stephen and I are descending, we pass three people who are moving VERY slowly. One of them was hobbling and complaining that "it really hurts" (their knees, of course), and another one was noticeably gasping and panting.
A few twisty turns of the path downward and we meet a ranger, let him know that there are some people back there having problems. "Are they about your size?" he asked hopefully. Um, no - a bit bigger. Sorry about that, dude. He seemed sadly resigned to his fate.
If you ever go to Carlsbad (and you don't have bad knees), make sure you do take the natural entrance. You miss out on a whole lot of cave if you take the elevators.
The caves themselves are amazing, and it really is impossible to describe them. Also, due to the low light and the scale of everything around you, very difficult to photograph. The "Big Room" is huge, and yes, there's stalactites and stalagmites, cave pearls, rock formations that look like moss or popcorn. One large stalagmite that is wet with constant water, and it appears to be slowly melting away.
At one place, there was a large hole in the ground, obviously going to lower caves, and an old wire and wood ladder dangling over the edge. This was left there from one of their exploratory expeditions in the 1930s. Man, that is one scary ladder into one dark hole. No thank you.
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| From Roadtrip |
Yes, Stephen and I would have taken the stairs (it's a challenge!), but you're not allowed to. Everyone rides up on the elevator now.
I think we spent over an hour of wandering through the caves before we were at the elevators. We timed our visit well, because just as we were getting ready to leave, a mass of people with noisy children come spilling out of the elevators.
Sadly, it looks like they've discontinued the kitschy 1950's style Underground cafeteria (apparently the park service has been trying to shut it down for a while - guess they succeeded). You can see where the cafeteria was, although there's just a small refrigerator with bottled drinks there now, and some tables for you to sit down at. There are two souvenir t-shirt kiosks as well. And yes, they are a bit garish and tacky - but if people didn't love garish and tacky, would Vegas be so popular?
The elevator ride back to the surface is a 750-foot ascent. It's like a cattle car, in more ways than one. (Moo. Somebody in here stinks.)
It's now about noon, and we don't have tickets to any tours (because apparently they sell out weeks or months in advance. Who knew?). There's the bat flight in the evening, but that's many hours away, and there's nothing to do in Carlsbad, so we've decided to drive out to Guadalupe Mountain National Park just over the border in Texas.
*****
At the visitor centre in Guadalupe Mountain National Park, there's a man asking the ranger about how to get rid of "chiggers". I have no idea what chiggers are, but from the sounds of his conversation, I'm guessing it's some kind of itchy tick thing that burrows under the skin. Eek! I glance at my capris and resolve to avoid McKittrick Canyon (which is where he said he picked them up).
Guadalupe Mountains is another relatively unspoiled national park, very little in the way of roads, and lots of hiking and camping. There's the 8.4 mile hike to the top of Guadalupe Peak (the highest point in Texas), but that's listed as strenuous, and the rangers say that takes about 6 to 8 hours, and we don't have time. We look at the shorter day hikes, and decide on the 4.2 mile Devil's Hall trail because it has some narrow canyons and natural rock stairs.
We grab our backpacks, fill up with water, and set off on our hike. My capris are good because it's a hot day, and they are not good because there are many scratchy grasses and yuccas swiping at my legs. (Hopefully no chiggers!)
(Devil's Hall is a narrow canyon, yes, but it's a short distance and not nearly as tight as Little Wild Horse Canyon.)
On the way back, we take out our hiking poles, and they are so helpful when it comes to clambering back down all the rocks we've just climbed over. Should have been using them on the way in.
I'm a little bit sad that we don't have the time to try to climb Guadalupe Peak. Next time, Guadalupe; next time. The mountain is unimpressed.
*****
Back to Carlsbad Caverns, where we still have two hours to burn before the bat flight. A sandwich and a cookie at the cafeteria eats up a bit of time. We start reading books in the bookstore for a while ("hey, it ain't a library, pal!"), and eventually we decide, "To the bat cave!" And we swoop off to the amphitheater to find a place to sit.
Fortunately, we decided to head in early. The amphitheater seats about 1,000, and it's eventually packed to overflowing. Thankfully, the ranger reminds parents to take cranky kids out, as we're all supposed to be QUIET so that the bats come out. Some parents are diligent about this; others, not so much. :-/
It's around 7:30 when the bats finally start flying out. Most of them immediately head off over the hills, but a few fly close by us. They're smaller than you'd expect (maybe because we most commonly see vampire bats in horror movies), and there's estimated to be about 300,000 to 500,000 roosting in the caverns. And yes, they fly out every night.
Two seconds after the bats start flying, some people are ready to leave (obviously intent on being part of the big traffic jam out of the park). Stephen and I figure we might as sit and watch the bats for a while - that's what we came for, after all.
When it got too dark to see them any more, we briefly chatted with one of the park rangers; I asked about the poo smell when the bats were flying out - this is where we learned it was the bird droppings that stink - when the bats all come flying out in their little tornado, they create a nice little breeze that wafts that scent back up to us. So, it turns out that bats aren't as stinky as I at first supposed. :-)
At this point, it's 9 p.m., and it's very dark outside. The caverns are a good distance away from Carlsbad, and you can see so many stars in the sky. Venus is glowing brightly, and Stephen thinks he's picked out Mars as well. We found the big dipper, and I think I can actually see the North Star (which I usually have a hard time finding). There's also a pale sweep of light that Stephen says is the milky way. Sweet! (Maybe not quite as sweet as the Milky Way chocolate bar, but close.)
Driving back into Carlsbad, we stop at a Wal-Mart, where we behold yet more wonders. A pizza for $1.25! A case of Diet Coke with Lime for $4.00 (no deposit)! Some weird soda called Dr. Thunder and Diet Dr. Thunder! Booze!
Yes, folks, it's a bizarre and exciting new world down here.
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