A Tour of Rushmore Cave

"Ahh, Dad. We're so tired. Why can't we just go back to our villa and crash for the night?"
"Just relax kids; I know you're going to enjoy this tour!"

      Average Levi wearing, Eminem listening teenagers dread family road trips, cramped in the backseat of the family minivan with broken record players that keep repeating, "Are we there yet?" It's the last thing any self-righteous, cheeseburger and fries eating teenager enjoys. Stopping at every out-of-the-way tourist trap makes a vacation feel like a chore. Our first road trip and my mind was filled with the theme of "The Real World". We wasted the whole informal afternoon thoroughly examining everything the famous Mount Rushmore had to offer. Returning to our villa, a particularly plain looking white billboard with red letters announced that Rushmore Cave was a mere six miles away. Our villa would have to wait. Venturing into a cave can set off an amazing exploration adventure.

      Physically tired and overwhelmed with the uncertain excitement of children on Christmas morning, we approached Rushmore Cave. Our glistening emerald green minivan roller coastered along the narrow black road. Leaving steep rock-walls and tall, slender pine trees a white ranch entrance beckoned us. From a vast green carpet of lush green grass to a well-traveled dusty road, we drove up the hill to a sign of bleach white stones carefully place to announce our arrival at Rushmore Cave. Hidden behind the trees was a rigid concrete stairway leading up the side of the mountain. When the van stopped, the side door rolled open and we stumbled out like dominos. With a yawn, I inhaled the fresh mountain air only to find that it had been diluted by the freshly cut lawn.

      Our imaginations entered the cave. The cool 46-degree air filled our lungs and nipped at our skin. Our eyes relaxed from their squinted position and looked ahead down the path lit dimly by dome lights. The hollow echo of our fearless tour guide's voice informed us it was time to move on. Continuing down the long subterranean corridor, the ceiling grew closer to my head as did the walls to my body. Instinctively, my hands met the cold, jagged rock walls as the incline grew steeper. Hunched over like Quasimodo, I proceeded through the low opening as if it were a limbo stick. The protruding stone structures from the floor and ceiling were as threatening as the fangs of a vampire bat. We quickly moved on, and, as if the rocky formations were clouds, imagined that we saw a bushy little squirrel and the face of Alf, the cat-eating alien from the planet Melmac.

      A golden ray of sunlight blinded me momentarily as I slowly emerged from the cave. The warm summer air reclaimed my cold shivering skin. Now hidden lower in the sky, the shy sun pierced through the trees creating a perfect post card silhouette. The sky was painted with cotton candy clouds that reflected shades of pink and orange.

      Touring a cave will turn any camera-toting tourist into a daring spelunker. From the motion sickness inducing ride, to setting foot into a cave for the first time, it all adds up to a beautiful dream like sequence. When you first step foot into a cave, you feel like you are Neal Armstrong stepping onto the moon for the first time.