Into the Bowels of the Earth: a Teachable Moment in the Zane Shawnee Caves

With three kids, the questions come fast and furious, especially at bedtime.
"Why are there different languages?"
"What is dying?"
"What's the name of that guy in heaven who makes us do bad things?"
"What are those lines on your face when you get mad?"

I like to take the time to address each of those questions, but every once in a while, an opportunity comes up to actually show them the answers. This weekend for example, we got to address Juliette's current burning question, punctuated with foot stomps for emphasis:
"Mommy, what's under the ground?"
And as a bonus, we even got to show Jack that native Americans were not, in fact, really, really old guys who have been around since America was created.

There are a number of caves around Columbus, and we chose to head to the Zane caverns on the Shawnee Nation reservation. The children were amazed that Native Americans lived less than an hour away from us, and that their reservation is actually considered their own sovereign nation, another country in the heart of Ohio.

After a beautiful, winding drive across the hills of the highest point in Ohio, we pulled up to the Shawnee Nation entrance. Our minivan's tires crashed slowly through the gravel and dust of the reservation road. We seemed to be the only tourists on a quest for adventure on this sunny Sunday afternoon. We pulled into the deserted parking lot next to the spot reserved for the chief, and walked into the gift shop. It felt as though we had walked into a parallel universe where even the dust particles dancing around the handmade leather moccasins and colorful dream catchers moved slowly.  The kids were excited, touching the colorful beads and the mushroom coral available for purchase, as Steve paid $32 for our family to take a very private 45-minute tour of the Zane caverns.

Soon we were led to the back of the gift shop to a nondescript wooden door. Our guide was a young man with a slow and kind demeanor. He paused by the door to shine his flashlight on a map of the caverns and explain that we would only be visiting the first level. He then illuminated a picture of a flying bat, "the kindest creatures on the planet," that we would be seeing. I shuddered before asking, "Will they bother us or land on us?" His easy-going manner was not so reassuring when he cryptically answered, "probably not," with a little smile.

He then opened the wooden door, lifted a heavy plastic tarp, and marched into the bowels of the earth.

The caves were wet, beautiful, painted with a palette of rich and varied ochres and grays. They were also filled with sleeping bats, tiny furry lumps affixed to the rock face. We walked without retracing our steps for close to an hour. At our lowest and wettest, we were 300 feet below ground. Thankfully, the entire galley had been wired with electricity so we only experienced pitch darkness for a few seconds, firmly holding onto a railing after our guide counted down from 10. I'm no geologist, and was too worried about banging my head or losing a child, to take notes, so I'll just leave you with these pictures and tell you that we saw stalagtites, stalagmites, pearl formations and an underground pool of incredibly clear water. No bats landed on us, but we did have a very tense moment waiting immobile as one woke up and took flight above our heads.

We also learned an important fact if you, like me, are a little nervous about flying rodent-like animals. Bats are extremely active in August, filling the cave and flying around 24 hours a day. Note to self, summertime is not a good time to visit caves.

I'll close this post with these beautiful words from Chief Tecumseh of the Shawnee Nation which go well with the ethereal beauty of these caverns: "So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none. When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision. When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home."