A stalactite (hanging from the “ceiling”) and stalagmite (coming from the cave floor) almost touching at Carlsbad Caverns.
As an author, I love to write about adventure for my characters. I love to experience adventure myself, but only the kind with a safe outcome.
But how can we ever truly know when we’ll be safe?
For our vacation, I really wanted some adventure, but nothing too crazy. No spelunking or diving out of perfectly good airplanes, thank you very much. My husband and I love to hike, backpack, road-trip, and go off-roading in our Jeep (yes, that has its own danger). We love the outdoors, and I prefer my feet to be firmly planted on the earth. Outside. Where I can clearly see what’s going on. And definitely no crowds for me.
So when my husband suggested Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, I froze. Then I tried to list all the reasons we shouldn’t do that. Not when there are so many other good things to see and do.
I mean, I hate dark holes in the ground. 750 feet worth of dark holes, climbing down some cavern that we as a human race can’t really understand. How can we truly know it won’t crumble? Or those stalactites won’t decide to fall. They look fiercely piercing to me. And I really don’t like dark enclosed spaces at all. I don’t really even like elevators, most especially one carved inside a 75 foot story hole in the ground.
We’ll trek down the 75 switchback trail, experience the Big Room, and take the elevator ride back up.
This is where I almost panicked
Growing up in Central Texas, I’ve had my fair share of caverns. Family vacations, school field trips. Why would I want to see another cavern? I’ve actually already been to Carlsbad Caverns as a child with my family. Why go again? Did my husband not understand how traumatizing most of the caverns had been to my young soul? Tour guides turning out the light so you can see there and experience how truly dark it is down there? Barely able to breathe. No thanks. Been there, done that. Probably had a shirt at one time or another.
I wanted to be brave, but I’m not really. I almost had a panic attack on the third switchback, especially after the ranger who took our ticket very excitedly told us we’d be hiking down 75 of them. It’s one thing to be driving up a mountain on a switchback trail, which in hindsight is probably way more dangerous, but it’s another to be underground, the dark, where you can’t see. But it was lit very well, actually. No tour guides turned out the lights and no rocks fell on my head. I felt the fear and did it anyway, and it was an exhilarating experience. I almost turned around on the third switchback, and I most assuredly almost cried. But the further we hiked, the more comfortable I became. Even brave enough to walk ahead of my husband and stop holding his hand down the long trek (although that was nice, and any excuse to hold hands, right?)
And it was massive. Nothing like an underground hole at all. It is amazing beyond words, and the history of this cavern is amazing. The fact a 16 year old boy discovered it when he saw what he first thought was smoke and wondered where it could be coming from back in 1898, then discovered it was bats flying out of a cave that he would later explore. A 16 year old, born in Mason County, Texas, who moved to New Mexico. He built his own ladder from wire and wood and held the ladder in one hand and a kerosene lantern in the other. To find out more about James White, just Google his name. Or better yet, visit the cavern and learn from the history there.
This stalagmite is still growing and one of the largest in the world. I can’t remember the exact history now, unfortunately, but it was amazing. Pictures can’t do this justice.
Needless to say, I had an amazing time and I am glad this tiny but pervading fear did not ruin such a wonderful experience. Seeing it again now, after all these years, was amazing. And I would definitely go again.
Fear is such a funny thing, and different for everyone. Some people can jump out of a perfectly good airplane but scream at spiders. But fear is a true emotion that is wonderful to conquer.
Mind you, I won’t ever conquer the fear of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, but crawling down a hole and then rushing back in an elevator fixed into that massive hole 75 stories below ground now doesn’t seem so bad. And these experiences always make me a better writer as a carve adventures for my characters.
Do you have any fears that, on the outside, seem so silly but on the inside are actually huge and terrifying?