Carlsbad, New Mexico is at the crossroads of Texas and New Mexico– and feels like it– so isolated, oil trucks were the most frequent vehicle one passed on the roads. And given how flat the landscape appeared, it was not exactly intuitive to imagine that 750 feet below the surface, one of the most impressive cave systems in the world lurked.
We came to learn later that the landscape around Carlsbad, New Mexico was so featureless, the original discoverer of the cave could not readily convince people that something special existed there. People were entirely skeptical than anything of natural value could exist there– let alone the best-preserved cave system yet to be seen.
Why does “best-preserved” matter? Having been to Lehman Cave and Mammoth Cave in the past year, the widespread vandalism of caves was made plain. As long as people have been entering caves in America, long before they were protected sites, folks would chip off stalagmites, carve their names into walls, and burn their initials into ceilings using their lanterns. Once my eye adjusted to seeing damage, in both of those cave sites– it was so prevalent, it was sometimes hard to see anything else.
But Carlsbad Caverns were set aside by Calvin Coolidge in 1930, and having only been discovered in the years just before 1900, so it was protected far earlier than most– thus, feeling unspoiled by comparison.
Here’s an important thing to know about visiting– to see some of the most beautiful sights, a room named King’s Palace and nightly bat flights (seasonal), you must have a ticket (Recreation.gov). You can still go into the caves regardless, but King’s Palace was a truly extraordinary cavern– if you walk right in the doors as the visitors center opens (National Park pass IN-HAND), you can grab a few day-of passes they seem to hold back for early risers.
The entry to the cave was a short walk from the visitor center– and while most opted to take an elevator down into the cave, descending 700+ feet in just seconds– my friend and I opted to walk down a gradual, switchbacked trail to get to the bottom.
The most notable sign we were descending was the lack of noise, not necessarily the darkness. The envelopment was quick, and within the first fifty to one hundred yards, we’d lost all the natural light, and the world fell more silent. Notably, we passed a few signs with phones attached to report desecration– another effort to keep this pristine example of a cave as natural as possible.
The scale of Carlsbad Caverns was completely epic, and the expanse was made even plainer by the descending trail. It felt like we were being swallowed whole– look at the photo on the right to see the tiny human for scale. (In fact, you can play this game with many of the photos in the following post).
The cave air was moist, and we were only vaguely aware of venturing so far from the surface. UNTIL we got to the bottom– and entered a large cave corridor that doubled as a gift shop, snack bar, and elevator waiting area. It was a truly strange sight– a retro-looking, 1960s buildout, deep below the surface.
The manmade structures provided a very weird contrast to the natural cave walls all around.
We had about 30 minutes to wait for our paid ranger tour of King’s Palace, so we grabbed a seat and ate an energy bar or two. As we sat still, the 50-degree underground temperature started to feel chilly, and we added a layer. And without the movement of our bodies and the sights to distract us, our minds slowly drifted to the fact of being a full 750 feet underground, with very limited exits leading out.
Turns out idleness– when hundreds and hundreds of feet below ground– is not particularly good for the emotional state. We rose and headed toward the tour meeting site, hoping to distract ourselves by seeing and interacting with others.
This was where we met Ranger Lauren, an eager, young park ranger, who dutifully answered questions about the caves. Her pre-tour talk included a change in her sunny demeanor when she gave a severe warning about cave contamination– pleading with the group not to bring anything but water along, she told a tale of rangers having to clean Cheeto dust off the floor of the caves with a toothbrush.
Even our respirations affected the caves, she explained. The caverns were regularly exposed to microbial changes constantly, just due to visitors– something not lost on us, a small tour group ready to enter some of the most fragile parts of the cave system.
As my friend later pointed out on reflection, “leave no trace” was not really possible in this case. By simply observing, we were damaging it, despite the best of behavior and intentions. And while the park service smartly limits visitation numbers and tries to painstakingly remove visitor’s leavings– there is contradiction in this: there was not a way to fully protect this cave, and also allow people into it.
Changing to humor, Ranger Lauren also urged everyone to use the bathroom before proceeding, as we could not return the way we came– and while she had a “Convenience Bag” for emergencies, it was really not that “Convenient” to actually have to use it.
And with that, off we went to King’s Palace.
Let me tell you, a camera does no justice to these caves. They were practically un-capturable– the scale was just enormous, and in this chamber, the immense number of stalactites and stalagmites were impossible to account for through the lens. To stand below it was so mind-numbingly surreal, it was hard to know where to begin.
So, I pointed my phone and lens and shot, but just know these pale in comparison to the reality of it.
The ranger explained that the stalactite and stalagmite formations were ancient– as the slow dripping of moisture created them, they would generally only grow to be about an inch long in a few years– which meant these epic hanging forms had taken thousands of years to reach their current length.
She stated different nomenclature for various formations– e.g. a ‘shark fin’ for the flat juts, ‘popcorn’ for the bubbly-looking ones, and so on– but my brain was incapable of holding these singular forms as I viewed the spectacular scale of the grandeur as a whole.
Walking through the caves on designated paths, one had to be careful– treading lightly, we did not want to jostle anything, touch any surface, or otherwise increase our impact.
We then toured the Queen’s Chamber– an area in which the original explorer of the cave, Jim White, lost the light in his lantern for over an hour, wandering in darkness. To underscore how truly terrifying this would be, the ranger (with fair warning) turned off the stationed lights for 30 seconds– or maybe it was a full minute, hard to know given the way time slows down when one of your senses is taken away.
The darkness was profound– the darkest of dark that modern life might be able to imagine, with not one ounce of light coming from any direction. Theatrically, the ranger asked people to wave their hands in front of their faces, which of course– they could not see.
The Queen’s Chamber was named for the way the thin rock slats looked like a flowing garment– which extended so far into the ceiling, I had to zoom my phone camera out to .5 to capture it. The massive nature of these formations can’t be conveyed.
After the ranger left us in the main area, we decided to take the regular loop walk open to all– heading through the aptly named “Big Room” which had some of the highest ceilings in a cave I’d ever seen. The picture on the right captures the scale– imagine each of those stalactites on the roof of the cave was tens of feet long– and that might help paint the epic picture.
While the first mile loop of the Big Room was gorgeous and fostered easy engagement, there was a second loop that the park service deliberately left darker. With few guiding lights, and no lights set upon the formations– it was hard to get a sense of the beauty, as it was shrouded in darkness. While features like “The Bottomless Pit” (spoiler– not bottomless, just 150-feet deep) resided here, this part of the cave was uninteresting visually, but — MUCH more akin to how the cave would look without as much human intervention (and professional lighting).
Again, we were struck by how these cave formations would remain entirely hidden from us without artificial lights, and without the convenient pathways molded within. The Carlsbad Caverns experience that we were so lucky to have was — in fact, a staged one– lit and manufactured for viewing, and not indicative of how a more natural experience would be in the slightest.
Yet, we were both so awed, we were throughly glad that we HAD this experience.
OK, it’s time to play the “spot the human for scale” game again– I learned that having other folks present in the pictures was really the only way for the visual communication of this place to work– otherwise, the cave could look downright diminutive through the lens.
After being in such large spaces, the last journey in Carlsbad Caverns was one of the only irritating and claustrophobia-inducing bits– waiting in a long line for the single elevator that would return us to the surface, and then cramming into those elevators with lots of other humans, took some patience.
And while the 750-foot ascent did not technically take long, the mind could too-easily wander to the logistics of freeing passengers stuck within thick limestone masses.
Once on the surface, a grey-sky day looked absolutely blinding to our eyes.
Of all the caves in the National Park System (can’t speak to the ones outside of it, via state parks or private ownership)– Carlsbad was clearly the most spectacular, by a wide margin. This national park was an amazing, awe-inspiring stop that was easily experienced in a day– just be cognizant of reserving tour tickets in advance.
Posted by Sun
