In Lehman's Terms: Great Basin Nat'l Park 7/3/11

After a nerve-racking automotive experience on a lonely mountain the day before, and an oven-inspired blast of 108 incomprehensible degrees as we drove an hour out of our way to Washington City, Utah, for a taste of In-N-Out, we craved relaxation. Driving 142 miles on bleak backroads to achieve this welcome respite might not sound redemptive, but for us, it was a new day, a different car, and much cooler temperatures. What could go wrong? While that innocent question often precedes disaster, there would be no such thing on this Sunday morning. Awaiting us at the end of this rainbow was Great Basin National Park (established in 1986, making it one of the more recent additions to the park system), a sagebrush-covered valley and mountain range that features, as a delightful bonus, the former National Monument of Lehman Caves (itself protected by President Harding in 1922). And while the park itself is tailored more to the hikers and adventurers among us, it is the cave that will live on in our memory, and not only because we are too lazy to huff and puff our way to the Bristlecone pines.

While Carlsbad Caverns will always stand alone as the ultimate cave experience in the United States, Lehman Caves is no mere pretender; its depth and beauty stand toe-to-toe with the New Mexican giant, eclipsed only by an overall size and scope. Existing as a single cavern, Lehman has no "big room" or endless passageways, but during the 90-minute Grand Palace Tour (a bargain at $10 each), there's literally no end to the child-like excitement. Few places command one's full attention, but Lehman hasn't an empty moment to offer. From the first stop to the last, the formations - those indelible images of limestone - challenge the eye with the usual stalactites, stalagmites, columns, and draperies, but also an unusually dense collection of shields, which are defined as, "two roughly circular plates fastened like flattened clam shells, often with graceful stalactites and draperies hanging from their lower plate." This wasn't simply a standard tour of endurance; this was a genuine treat, and dare I say, fun.

If you do happen upon Great Basin (unlikely, given its remote location, away from any sort of accidental highway pulloff), take advantage of this longer tour (and please, book ahead, because they fill up quickly), as you'll visit the Gothic Palace, Music Room, Lodge Room, Inscription Room, and the Grand Palace. Additionally, you'll have a bird's eye view of the Parachute, which is the cave's most dramatic example of shield work. And while there's no shortage of the remarkable and the unusual, Lehman would not have been Lehman without Steve, our tour guide. If it was possible to clone a ranger and send him across the country selling the joy of the NPS, it would be this man, body and soul. Older but spry, humorous yet understated, Steve was a fountain of knowledge, folklore, charm, and wit, and his insistence on inclusion - he made every member of the tour feel connected to the experience - demonstrated that while rangers have much to teach, they are only as strong as the visitors who accompany them. From the dramatically sly way in which he introduced the opening room (one could see it alone and leave satisfied) to the slew of anecdotes and trivia he threw in our direction, Steve spoke authoritatively, but never with the assumption that he alone had access to the cave's mysteries. Lehman, all by its lonesome, is extraordinary, but Steve was the grand cherry on top, and surely the best guide we've ever encountered.

So while Lehman Caves made our day - and alone is worth the drive - we still had more to do at Great Basin, and headed directly to the Wheeler Peak Scenic Drive, which, in its 12 miles, gains over 3,400 feet in elevation. It's a steep, winding drive, but along the way, you get a killer view of the surrounding basin below, as well as a densely packed forest of Englemann spruce and Douglas fir (among other flowers and trees). A good first stop is the Mather Overlook, which offers a sublime look at the still-snowcapped Wheeler Peak (13,063 feet), as well as a rock formation that would not be out of place at Chiricahua National Monument in Arizona. The air is crisp (the snow - in July - is still there for a reason) and clean, and while a long hike beckons, we're pretty certain hikers should carry provisions of some kind. Having no food, water, or first aid kits, we remained firmly attached to civilization and its paved roads. Sure, we desperately wanted to see Stella and Teresa Lakes, the Rock glacier, and those ancient Bristlecones, but trails ranged from several tough miles to all-day slogs, and those storm clouds weren't going away any time soon. We saw what we could (of course it wasn't enough), but take pity on us nonetheless. At least we know our limitations.

Of the two visitor centers (one is near the cave, the other a few miles down in the town of Baker), the latter is the superior offering, if only because it has better displays and a newer, more professional sheen. Curiously, they both showed the same film, an ancient relic from the 1960s that speaks to the cave's history and geology, but remains silent on the greater park. The VCs also highlight the park's night skies program which, if you believe the pictures, appears to be one of the best in the world. With little to no light pollution in the area, there's no end to what one can see with the naked eye, and we were crushed that we had to press on. Believe me, we'd love to come back for the privilege, and would even stay the night in that depressing, roach-infested motel in Baker to make it happen. Oh yes, and to see if Steve is available for one more peek at that glorious cave.

FINAL RATING

9/10