Day One of Montana

It's been almost two weeks since Day One in Montana, but when I look at the images I took, all 354 of them, it all comes flooding back. People always wonder why I take so many images - two reasons: I love capturing great things and so I can remember things. I have a memory like a sieve, so having images makes it so much easier.

I was up around 0545, but I probably wasn't completely adjusted to Mountain Time. I sat there and processed the previous day's images from the trip out. I checked my e-mails, played with Orion and Nova, and did other computer things. The light of the not yet rising sun was lovely, and the sun rises earlier and later... which sounds weird. The sun rose about ten minutes earlier than here (around 0535) but nestled in the mountains, it did not become visible until quite about later - around 0615. But the way it slowly lit up the mountains opposite the house was amazing.

David and Donna got up around 0700 and we had a great breakfast of Almond Amaretto pancakes. (They were so good I bought three canisters of the mix and Ray and I had some this morning. He enjoyed them, too.) We got ready and drove out to the Lewis & Clark Caverns.

Oddly enough, everything is named after Lewis & Clark and while I don't doubt that they were excellent explorers, they were never in the caverns and did not discover them. It was a guy named D.A. Morrison who found them and took people on tours in 1895 (an auspicious year). The government shut down his efforts, but he broke the lock off the gates that were there and replaced it with his own for years. Entreprenuerism at its best.

The trip began with seeing a couple of the antelope that abound in the region. I love it. I never see anything but the ubiquitous North American deer that we've displaced.

Driving through western Montana is vastly different than driving anywhere in New Jersey. That includes Sussex County and southern Jersey. I won't bore you with cows and horses, as I need not go far to see either. But antelope, eagles - not exactly a common sighting around these parts. And the landscape along was fascinating. Rolling hills, wide open plains and the incredible visage of mountains. The passes were sheer and a little scary, considering the biggest pass I'd ever been through was the Delaware Water Gap. But gorgeous. So pretty and so alive!

The eagle is a golden head eagle (I think that's what Donna said - she's the bird expert). It just sat there, surveying the plains and looking majestic.

David and Donna live in the Big Belt Mountains, but we drove through enough ranges that I couldn't name them all. It took a little over 90 minutes to get to the caverns, which were closer to Bozeman. We seemed to be driving up when we got to the turn off for the caverns, and we definitely were quite high. Where their house is just under 4,000 feet above sea level, the starting point of the caverns was:

Not bad, just a mere 5,309 feet higher than the ocean. I was happy that my house is 300 feet above sea level, but how paltry that is compared to this.

We bought our tickets to the 1430 tour of the caverns and wandered to the gift shop for me to get gifts and goodies and I grabbed a quick bag of Chex Mix to wolf down along with my water. Water bottles were not permitted in the caverns (that was a little surprising - but apparently people are disappointing in their unwavering dedication to screwing up the planet, so now nothing is permitted except yourself and your camera are allowed in). I also was smart enough to use the loo - not the best ones I've been in, but usable - before embarking on a two-hour trek through a mountain where there'd be no stopping for a bathroom break.

I also brought my sweater along, and while I wondered why I bothered for a long time, I ended up being quite happy that I had it.

We had to start with a very steep uphill walk - try climb - to access the opening to the cave. I started right out at a brisk walk and was panting in no time (while I don't doubt that the elevation had its role in that somewhere, the main issue was my lack of movement in my day-to-day life). I was sweating and my thighs were burning with the effort from the incline. I would not sit down, however, and any pauses were brief; my mindset is to get it over with and rest prior to going inside. Fortunately, the tours are designed so that the group goes together and the guide waits for everyone to catch up at his or her own pace.

Good thing...

By the time we'd reached the opening, we were at approximately 5,600 feet in elevation. I stood by the view area to have my picture taken with the scenery, and here I am, with the Jefferson River wending its way through the valley and 50 miles of the Lewis & Clark trail visible. Gorgeous!

The cavern entrance was a tall cleft in the mountain, and there were about 30 of us in the group. Some small kids were afraid of the dark cave, but most of us couldn't wait to get inside where we'd be out of the sun. I was soaking wet - I wanted in right away, besides being eager to see the cavern.

We were told that cameras were okay but certain sections did not allow flash photography. While my old camera could never have handled this darkness without the flash, my new camera did an amazing job with the poor lighting. It really was quite dark even with the lights put in by the state. Not that it should be lit with Klieg lights, but it was something amazing that my camera could handle this.

The stalactites and stalagmites were... what word in this or any other language do this justice? There isn't one. Unbelievable. Incredible. Magnifique. Wow! I don't know. The word I want isn't there. All of the above apply and more. You'll see what I mean, but even so - images are nothing at all like seeing the real thing.

They form at a rate of 1 cubic inch every 30 years. You can just see them building up/down. If you have a lot of time on your hands, anyway... it was damp, cool and dark, but we were all still sweating like mad, so no one was reaching for warmer clothing. I was still wiping my forehead with sweat, but I wasn't overheated from the caverns - yet.

The rock is very smooth and worn looking. It feels like metal, though, not rock. And there were strange worn down areas - it turns out that the acidity in people's hands deteriorate the stactites and stagmites and it looks like this. I never would have guessed. We'd asked about it while looking at some of the features in the first open area. (If I touched it, you'd see it melt!) We were surprised that just touching it was so damaging, especially since it does feel so hard. I only found that out when I put my hands out for balance.

There were formations that looked like ice cream cones, cascading fountains, towers, spirals... you name it. Incredible. Amazing. Awesome (in the real sense of the word, not just the AWWWWW-sum that everyone uses these days). Mind-boggling. Phenominal! Most had a funny, milky look and some looked rusted. There was water dripping from many but to form, water is a huge part of the equation. The formations were strange and amazing.

We climbed, crawled, slid (kind of) and bent double to work our way up to 6,000 feet above sea level, then end up lower than 1,000 feet above sea level, then end up outside around 250 feet lower than we began entering the cavern. Coming out was it's own experience. There are two doors. One to get through first, then close tightly. Then the second one leading outside opens. The reason for this? Both doors open creates a wind tunnel - with 40 miles an hour zephyrs! Good gods. Let's hear it for those doors. Just as well... I had my sweater on at that point.

Images:

This was the first open "room" we entered. And this is - to me - the big ice cream cone, complete with a cherry on top. I loved it. It just sat there, piling up its one cubic inch in over half my life patiently. It is hard to think in terms of decades for one inch of anything to happen.

Pretty amazing, isn't it? There were all different kinds of formations, with all kinds of different names, the half of which I can't recall. This is where tours can be disappointing... I can't write stuff down whilst crawling through the caves; I'd have loved to have done so... Sorry, folks. I do remember that popcorn was one of them.

This looks really strange - the top part looks normal, but the base looks kind of "soft" and smooth. They are all smooth, but this looks very obviously smooth. There was also a section called the Beaver Slide which looked really smooth. And to get through it? You have to sit down at the top of the slide (for me a feat in itself) and then work your way to the bottom. This without clocking one's head on some of the outrageously low outcroppings of rock. Even better...? That slide is not as slick as one would think. I had to push myself down that freezing cold rock with my behind in denim making sounds that any society would find at the very least inappropriate. Slide, my ass!

This was from the final cavern we were in (the images are not in order, due to a "feature" in Blogger that won't allow me to move images around as I want. As I used to. So the images that are larger than the field I have to work in can't get past the long images following - such as the next one) and the colour is something, isn't it? This was taken without the flash. The red light is what the state used.

A very sweet pair of friends who were there visiting from Billings: Brian Alvarez and Sarah Elizabeth Johnson.

This is the first rusty cascade we saw - it was ruddy and gorgeous and so contrasted from the other rocks that mostly had that sort of washed out look. This is also the segment of the tour where the guide showed us just how truly dark it really is in the bowels of a mountain. She lit a candle and turned out the dull yellow lights installed by the state to show what the original stone cutters and adventures saw. Then she asked us if we'd like to see how dark it really gets in there. We all cheered and she blew the light out.

Holy cow. I could not see my hands in front of my face. It is eerie. Not that anyone had any expectation of seeing a shred of light... and yet, you cannot help it. No matter how dark I try to make my bedroom, it isn't. And it won't be. This... this was the true meaning of blind. And in just that few moments, I could hear more than usual - senses compensating. Eerie...

This is one of the rusty looking cascades of rock, although much lighter than the first. Isn't that neat? I love this.

When we came out of the caves, it was cloudy and thundering. Thunder there sounds nothing like thunder here. It booms faintly from a distance and reverberates around the mountains and fades away like a drummer moving off into the distance. It was so different. And the visibility gives storms a whole new aspect - it was really staggering to see the storm front that was miles away moving over the mountains.

I can't get that image down this far, I think... but I will try. It's really great. [Oh, look at that! I got it here! Yahoo!]

This is the point where we were 1 mile over the sea level. Wow. Kinda neat, huh?

The amazing sunset we saw on the way home will be in the next post.