Elliott and I got up early Saturday morning and drove to the Skyline Drive. We had been watching the weather reports and knew there was a good chance of some snow or ice on the mountains, a perfect photo opportunity. Alas, when we arrived we were informed that only the first five miles were open, the rest closed due to poor road conditions, so we turned around. We then decided to explore the Skyline Caverns, a couple of miles down the road. I'd been a few years ago but was happy to go again, especially as last time I hadn't checked out the mirror maze that was also on the site.
We bought our cave tickets but had to wait for a later tour, since social distancing meant the groups were smaller. So we went to the maze first and were delighted to discover we had it all to ourselves. I wasn't expecting much, assuming it was a kids attraction, but after a couple of minutes I realized that this was also great fun for adults too. There was a really creepy soundtrack looping the whole time we were in there, which initially, I found a little disconcerting,but which I was soon distracted from since all my attention was taken with negotiating the maze. The mirrors were immaculately clean so it was very difficult to ascertain where the openings were. I soon realized that I could follow the seams where the mirrors met the floor but this meant I wasn't looking ahead. And also, those seams were also replicated on the floor, radiating out from every column, so ultimately it was very confusing. Elliott simply held out his fingers to determine whether he could walk forward or not, but I deemed this to be cheating, and didn't copy him. Naturally, like Elliott, I also wanted to avoid a broken nose and black eyes, but tried to use my judgement rather than taking the easy route. At times I wasn't even sure if I was following the 'real' Elliott or his reflection.
This maze was actually a lot of fun, a far better experience than I had expected, and I was very proud to discover it had been created by an English firm, Adrian Fisher Mazes Ltd. It really is a beautiful maze and incredibly deceiving, appearing to be quite large, due to all the reflections, when in fact, it's in quite a small room, which used to be a general store. We spent a fair amount of time taking photos and admiring our repetitive reflections. I loved the photo above which Elliott took of me, reminding me of a witches coven. I took a short video on my iPhone which was pretty tough work, trying to watch my screen while also attempting to keep walking forward without knocking into glass. Plus, I was getting dizzy from turning around in so many circles.
We walked back over to the cave reception and only had to wait a few minutes before our tour started. I was pleased to be wearing my mask as it kept my face warm as we descended to the lower temperatures of the caves. Most caves have a constant temperature of 54F and although I found it a little chilly at first, I was soon warm, rolling up my sweatshirt sleeves, while noting others had jackets on. This is my second trip here. Having caves so close to home is a novelty and an attraction I like to support, especially since they are home to an unusual crystal calcite and aragonite formation called anthodites, which in Greek means flower-like. And even Bing Crosby, when visiting Front Royal, considered the caverns a worthwhile visit. They were first opened in 1939 after huge amounts of mud and clay were removed from the tunnels. Today, only about 20 percent of the caves and tunnels found are open to the public but that still leaves just over a mile of walking and many wonders to take in. The tunnels are easy to traverse, nearly all the paths on the same level and no tight areas to squeeze through. Every time I enter any of the caverns in our area I stop for a few minutes to marvel about how I'm looking at formations that have formed over fifty to sixty millions years. Of course I want to touch everything to make the experience even more humbling but naturally that's not allowed, the oils on our hands would change the rock.
These 'living' caverns, called so because the constantly dripping water is continuously changing the rock formations, have five underground streams running through them, three of which we saw on our tour. The water and formations are lit beautifully by an award winning light display. And of course during the tour we had the moment I always look forward to, when the guide shuts off the lights completely, plunging us into total darkness, while explaining that a relatively short duration of this would send us mad. It's a strange, almost claustrophobic sensation to be unable to see anything, especially when we also stand in silence, straining to hear the distance trickle of water of the streams.
The highlight of these particular caverns are the beautiful flower shaped formations that form in a small part of the caverns, six sided crystalline blooms that resembled giant frost formations and are protected by Virginia State Law. The photo above showing the 'drip' from the anthodite cluster which is called The Chandelier. At 18" long it's the longest and oldest anthodite known to man. They grow abundantly in only four locations in the world, three in the U.S. (New Mexico, Tennessee and VA), and one in France. Their growth rate is about 1 inch every 7,000 years.
After the tour we left the caverns and decided to reach the Skyline Drive through Sperryville, hoping to see some ice on top of the mountain. Taking the back roads we trundled along, noting that snow had settled on the peaks in the distance, and heavy clouds draped as though caught on the mountain tops. Since Elliott was driving I had plenty of opportunity to take in the scenery, and shrieked when I spotted what I thought was a hog hanging from a wooden frame in someone's front yard. We turned around and drove back, wanting to take a discreet shot or two from the road, but we were delighted to be greeted by a couple of guys as we approached who asked us if we wanted to take photos. Needing no further encouragement we grabbed our cameras and walked over to meet them.
It soon became apparent that these guys were at the end of their day and winding down with a few beers. There were actually two hogs hanging from wooden frames, their carcasses stripped of innards and cleaned, pink meat and pearly white fat ready to be cut up the following day. We were told that Grandma had shot them that morning with a 45, and I had no idea if they were telling the truth or not. The piglets had been purchased at the beginning of the year, 3 months old and weighing 30 pounds. The weight of them at their demise was estimated to be 550 pounds each. A huge pot containing the innards sat on the grass and we were informed these would be used to make scrapple the following day. My ears pricked up at this. Scrapple, in my opinion, is one of America's finest contributions to the food scene. I love the stuff. They were also making crackling the next day, and my mouth watered. They must have spotted my drool because they then invited us to return the following day to watch and take photos, as long as we came accompanied by a large quantity of Bud Light. What an amazing chance of a lifetime opportunity to witness how these tasty foods are created. We accepted immediately and very ecstatically. Well definitely on my part anyway, I could hardly contain myself. The guys willingly posed for a few photos and we promised to return the next day. We left them to their cans of beer and continued our drive to the mountain top.
The weather changed dramatically as we climbed towards the peak. The temperature dropped, the sky became grey and dense with snow clouds, and we could see thin snow collected on tree branches and the grass. But as we reached the parking lot at the top the clouds decided to dispense with their watery cargo and flakes of snow began to fall rapidly upon us, getting thicker as the minutes passed. We left the car and walked about, already a couple of inches had collected on the ground. It was magical, the bare trees looking like a scene from Narnia. I took photos then simply stood looking up at the sky, the snowflakes landing gently on my face like tender taps from icy fingertips, although it felt a few times like pokes in the eye as a few flakes made a bullseye with direct contact on my corneas. Yet it was serenely beautiful, a magical moment in time, existing just up here on the mountain, and seemingly just for us. I suddenly became aware that my hands were frozen. I'd been wandering around with my jacket unzipped and with no gloves or hat on. My hair was sporting a white veil, we were getting wet, and so it was time to return to the warmth of the car, and drive back down towards home, where we would charge batteries and buy boxes of beer in readiness for a day of fun with our new found friends the following day.
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