MAMMOTH DISAPPOINTMENT

June 13-17, 2012       

As we weren’t planning to go far, we had a leisurely morning, with a nice breakfast and hot showers at the Natural Bridge KOA park, seen outside our window here.  Like a lot of parks these days, they have erected cabins for non-RV visitors.  Nothing much to see here, as the area is heavily treed, but it was pleasant enough.

Our original plan was to drive to Abingdon, VA, about 160 miles down I-81, but that went by relatively quickly.  We’re so used to taking secondary roads that I always overestimate the time required to get anywhere.  We had intended to cut west there on 58 and go

through the Cumberland Gap, but it would have added more miles without much difference in the scenery, so we pressed on to Kingsport, TN,  passing by Bristol, home of one of NASCAR’s famed short tracks.  We weren’t sure what this dozer was doing, but the hillside he was on certainly was colorful.  You wouldn’t believe how many manufactured homes we saw being hauled around, and they always slowed things down as everyone has to squeeze over into one lane to get around.  Tennessee, at least in this area, all looked pretty much like the lower right.  We spent the night at Warrior State Park, very pretty sitting on a lake, and only $20!  No TV or WiFi, so we ended the night with an “All Creatures” episode, which we never tire of.  The first series, which is the one we have DVD’s of (thank-you, boyos), was filmed 1978-1980.  Peter Davison plays the role of young Tristan Farnon.  Not being “Dr. Who” fans, we often wondered what became of him as an actor.  Last night, while watching a “Foyles War” DVD, there was a trailer for another Brit series called “The Last Detective.”  I kept looking at the protagonist and said to Loni, “Isn’t that Tristan?”  Sure enough, 30 years older, and much fleshier of face, there he was.  Now we’ll have to Netflix that one as well.  But I digress.

We started out the next morning with breakfast at a nearby “Waffle House,” a largely south- eastern institution (1700 outlets).  We’d eaten at another one in the Carolinas 2 years ago, and liked it.  This one likewise didn’t disappoint.  Perfectly cooked waffles, crisp bacon, slightly wet scrambled eggs, grits, toast, OJ and coffee.  Everything just like we ordered.  At a chain!  The portions were substantial, so we skipped lunch.  Shopping stop at Wal-Mart for groceries, through the “Gap” without much of interest to photograph, and stopped for the night at West Gate RV Park in London, KY.  This definitely ranks low on the beauty scale, being an appendage of a budget motel, and situated behind a gas station and fast food place.  But, for $23 a night we got full hookups, great wifi, entertainment from the families at the adjacent swimming pool, and 90 stations on the cable!  With the outside temp at 85, and humidity making it feel like 100, we mostly stayed inside with the air on and I watched England beat Sweden 3-2 in a good soccer game.  Loni fixed a fake-crab pasta with asparagus on the side, so all was good.

Saturday, we finally made it to the Mammoth Cave area and found a newer (small trees, no shade) RV park in nearby Cave City.  After signing in, we drove the rig over to the Cave to check that our reservations for tomorrow’s 4-mile “Grand Avenue” tour were set.  I had made these via the internet, but couldn’t print anything out.  I could, however, flash the email from them on my iPod.  Everything was in order.  Instead of going back to the RV park and sitting in the heat, we decided to use the rest of the afternoon to take the only self-guided (read: free) walk into the cave via the old, natural entry.  This only allows you to go a short way in.  Loni was last here when she was four, so didn’t remember a lot except for the boats on a river.  Wha?  We found the entry and went on down.  (I’m just a few days into a new stash and beard.)

Hmmmm.  There wasn’t a whole lot to see down there.  Just a big cavern that looked like it had been blasted out.  Certainly no water.  Oh well, tomorrow’s tour, which covers just about everything, should cover some interesting ground.  Right?  We found out later that Loni’s memory of an underground boat ride, complete with blind fish, was correct.  However, the new order has determined the visitors and rides were harming the fish, so that area has long been closed off to the public.  We remember taking a similar River Styx excursion on a river deep within the Gouffre-de-Padirac (this is a cool link; it looks like the French are still boating down under) when we were students in France in ancient times (1966).  That was pretty cool, so I was disappointed that this similar feature has been removed from access at Mammoth.  Back to the RV park and a “pre-Father’s Day” feast of steak smothered in balsamic onions, mash, broc, and a bottle of Bogle Petit Syrah.  Yeah, life can be good.

Next day we drove back and parked near the Visitor Center where we were to meet up with the tour.  This one starts through a man-made entry, not nearly as neat as the original.  In retrospect, there should have been a sign over the door saying “Abandon Hope of Anything Interesting All Yee Who Enter.” Before going in, the ranger did his best to disclaim any responsibility for the infirm, over-hyping the “difficulty” of the “arduous” hike we were about to take, with lots of steps up and down.  Gee, you think?  I guess this is a sad commentary on the general fitness of the American public, although the group we were with seemed pretty fit.  In fact, we were about the oldest on the tour.

We covered about a mile in the first 45 minutes, and it was mostly flat and monotonous.  It looks for all the world just what it is:  a rock tunnel carved through the earth by long-gone underground rivers.  No stalagmites.  No stalactites.  No formations.  Just lots of dark walls.  The ranger did his best to make things interesting, but . . . you can’t make a silk purse. 

It wasn’t much longer before we stopped for lunch.  Nothing gourmet here.  Turkey & American cheese on white bread with nothing to juice it up.  Veggie soup, pasta salad, an apple and a cookie.  With a drink, it was only $8.50, so can’t complain too much, especially considering where we were.  But I was sure thankful for that soup to help wash down the dry sandwich.  And, they had real bathrooms!

We kept on going, ever hoping for something, anything, to look at.  But it was just more of the same, occasionally broken up by a narrow passage.

   At one point we all got to sit down for a spell, and here was where they did the old “turn out the lights and sit with your thoughts” routine.  My thoughts were unprintable.  (No, I didn’t take this during the dark time.)

We did, finally, at the very end of our four-mile hike through nothingness, reach a small area where there were some formations, but they looked crude and uninteresting compared with those we had enjoyed in Luray.  Clearly, we have been spoiled by Luray, Carlsbad, and even Kartchner Caverns.  Heck, even the little thing that is close to the Grand Canyon, whose name escapes me, had more to see than did Mammoth.  Very, very overrated.  After we got through this small area, we went down some narrow stairs, wound around, and found ourselves outside, being herded like cattle at the slaughterhouse through footbaths designed to avoid tracking out anything that might harbor the white-nose bat disease.  Now they warn us!  Maybe that’s why I’ve been sick ever since.

Mammoth’s claim to fame is its sheer length.  They’ve found 350+ miles of passages, and still don’t have a handle on the entirety.  But this is a case where size really doesn’t matter.  It’s just so uninteresting.  Heck, on size, the huge dome areas in Carlsbad dwarf anything at Mammoth many times over, and they’re beautiful to boot.  Enough rant.  You get the picture.

Back at the rig, Loni made a delicious chicken cous-cous, I watched the U.S. Open (golf), and we got Father’s Day calls from both of the boys.  In the end, the day turned out just fine.