Traveling in January has its advantages: Stan and Kathleen enjoyed the massive cavern with only a few other visitors, giving a little sense of what the solitude may have been like for the original caver, cowboy Jim White, as he explored alone for years at the beginning of the century. It was only when he was able to get a local wedding photographer to venture down into the cave that the public began to get a sense of the majesty of it all. Lights and railings have improved the access greatly. The cave was formed by mixing sulphur and water, creating sulphuric acid which ate the limestone, leaving spectacular voids. Dripping chemicals formed the requisite stalactites and stalagmites over the millennia.
We took an elevator down 800 feet, leaving the "natural entrance" for others. Our operator was Kim from Ely, Minnesota, looking all perky in her smokey bear hat and ranger outfit. She's been working at the cave for three months.
The cave's existence has been known for centuries, but only the first few hundred feet. There's a 40 foot drop-off that no one seems to have braved until Jim White built a ladder. Part of the cave is home to billions of bats. The horde flies out evenings, seeking insects. It returns to sleep and dump excrement. So there was never any mystery about the cave entrance, clouds of bats showed the way. Their dung, or guano, provided a boost to the local economy.
How's this for a summer job, ladies: For minimum wage, ride down into a deep dark shaft in the greasy guano bucket, scoop bat dung into bags and send them up in the bucket. Lunch at noon if you have a watch and can read it by your lantern, then back to work. Squish.
We didn't see a bat. The place smelled a little musty, but was very pleasant at 57 degrees, high humdity and no wind. That's the year round temperature, so it makes a great place to visit in the winter -- or summer for that matter, if you like crowds.