Wonderland Cave

Mr. C wants to visit a cave. We keep seeing billboards everywhere we go in the Black Hills for one cave or another. Some of the billboards and tourist flyers look better than others. But, how do you know which one to choose? I know I should check out some online reviews of different caves and then make the decision, but frankly my dear, we’re running out of time.

We settle on the one closest to our home base in Sturgis. It even happens to be right off our same exit. No problem. This couldn’t be more convenient and easier to get to. Let’s go! We hop in the car and we drive. We drive. We drive some more. By the time we get to the sign that finally reveals that we have five more miles to go, I’m convinced that the reason they didn’t give us any indication of the actual distance from the beginning is because they knew no one would drive that far if they really knew it was that far. I’m worrying that this whole thing is a mistake and the cave is going to be a joke. But, Mr. C wants to visit a cave. So I keep driving.

My nervousness continues as we enter the shop to buy our tickets. It’s staffed by two, very young looking, young men. They appear to be high school students. Not an adult in sight. One of the boys takes my money and informs me that the next tour will begin in ten minutes and, this is where I get really nervous, that super young guy over there will be your tour guide. Hmm, I was hoping for someone with a little more… Experience? Knowledge? Facial hair?

Boy am I wrong. Our guide is entertaining and knowledgeable. He tells the requisite bad jokes you get in a place like this, but he delivers them with a considerable amount of timing and humor. He explains all about the different types of rocks, tells us how long it takes stalagmites and stalactites to grow (the cave is alive!) and shows us a bunch of different formations. You get the idea. My bad. I jumped to some pretty major conclusions based on one piece of useless information, his age. So sue me.

Mr. C is so fascinated by the cave and interested in what the guide has to say that he makes sure he is the first one to follow him every time we move from one part of the cave to the other. He doesn’t want to miss a word. This makes me smile. I lag behind and snap a bunch of photos.

The tour takes about 45 minutes, but another group is coming down the hundred-plus stairs as we need to go up, so we get to visit a bonus section of the cave while we wait. Honestly, many of us are hoping they never stop coming down the stairs because we are that worried about our imminent ascent up and out of the underworld. The staircase is a narrow, twisting, duck-your-head-so-you-don’t-bash-it-on-the-rock, breath-stealing kind of thing.

I have done my duty. Mr. C’s wish of visiting a cave is officially granted. Although, what I don’t realize until we are on the tour is that he thinks we will get to explore the cave on our own once the tour is over. Spelunking style. I’m pretty sure he is hoping to find some previously undiscovered new species of cave dwelling mammal or fish or insect. Um, sorry to break it to you like this child of mine, but there is no way they are going to let us go off on our own. And, let me tell you, even if they did, there is no way I would ever agree to something like that. I saw some of the tight, dark parts of the cave just beyond the safe arc of light. Not happening. That is a little bit too adventurous for me. Ok, I’ll admit it, a lot too adventurous.

But, even without the spelunking, Mr. C is happy. I am happy. And, we check another fun Black Hills experience off our list.