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On Tuesday, March 21, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown. The OMOTM who drove east to get to the diner said that those who drove from the west missed a beautiful sunrise with a red sky that completely covered the horizon and then some. (If the horizon is covered, what is the “some” that is covered? Hmmm)

That was a key to what most of the early morning discussion was to be — it was the weather — of course. Those who live off the Hill missed a real dose of winter. Many of the OFs are Old Men of the Mountain and they were discussing, and showing pictures of snow measured in feet not inches.

It was thought that if (there is a “that if” quotient) it were not such a wet, heavy snow the measurements would be higher yet. The OFs claimed that the weight of the snow lowered the actual total depth. (But isn’t “actual” what is wound up with anyway whether snow is wet, or light and fluffy? What is on the ground is on the ground, no matter what its composition is?  Hmmmm.)

So the 30 to 34-plus inches of snow under different circumstances could be 40 to 48. No matter what, it was a lot of snow!

One OF saw a picture of an OF clearing his driveway with a push snowblower in one section, and a snow blower on the end of a tractor in another section. Snow flying in every direction.

Another OF said that, listening to the weather reports, it would be a good idea to get as much snow off as possible because the next day was going to be warm and, with the snow off the walks and driveways, it would clear pretty quick.

Yet another OF was more of, “Hey, Mother Nature put it there; Mother Nature can take it away.”

 

Feeling good

One OF came in and as usual was asked almost in unison, “Hey (name), how are ya doin’?”

This is a common greeting not only with OMOTM but in general. An answer is not expected other than, “I’m fine,” or “I’m doing OK,” etc., but this OF answered with, “Some days you feel you are like the dog, and others you feel like the hydrant. Well, today I am the dog; I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

To which another OF said, “Be careful with that.”

This OF said his old man came out of the kitchen and announced the same sentence (he hadn’t felt this good in a long time) and went into a little room that was an offshoot of the kitchen to put on his shoes and socks, sat down in a chair there, let out a little grunt and fell to the floor dead.

When the doctor came, the doctor said he was dead before he hit the floor.

“Well,” one OF added, “I guess it is best to feel rotten all the time.”

Another OF declared, “At my age, if I didn’t feel rotten all the time, I would think something was wrong.”

 

Hats off?

Last week, this column was about 2022; this week, the OFs mentioned an event in another restaurant that is no longer there — it was the Home Front.

When most of the OFs arrive at the restaurants, they are wearing baseball-style caps; with many of the OMOTM, they are gray with the OMOTM logo on them. Some caps do represent other logos but not many.

The subject here is most of the OFs eat with their hats on; however, a few had manners introduced at a young age and do remove their hats while at the table, but it is not many.

At one time when eating at the Home Front, there was a waitress who was “old school” and she tolerated no hats at the table. The OFs remembered her well because, if the OF forgot and left his hat on, she would remove the hat and remind the OF, “No hats at the table.”

Some waitresses, or even other people, would cause the OFs to take offense at such conduct. However, the personality of this waitress was such that the OFs would put up with the hat removal and didn’t mind.

Comment: It is odd that some people can get away with this type of behavior and others don’t. With the temperament of some of the OFs, if a different waitress tried the same move, an OF might leave and never go back.

The OFs very loosely hang together and join in a few social events. One such gathering is again a weekly thing and it is still having breakfast.

A few of the OFs go to breakfast at the Rock Road Chapel on Rock Road in Berne. The breakfast is from 7 to 9 on Wednesday and is free; however, they do accept donations. The OFs that go have a good time, and say the breakfast is pretty good.

“There,” one OF said, “they do take their hats off.”

With this type of meeting for some of the OGs and this type of atmosphere, the Old Men of the Mountain are getting to be like one great big family. Maybe they were all along. 

The Old Men of the Mountain who were able to get out since the temperature rose a few degrees, plus the good work of the highway crews, so that all who made it to the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown without having to use horses and sleighs were: Marty Herzog, Wally Guest, Harold Guest, Miner Stevens, Russ Pokorny, Doug Marshall, Frank Fuss, Wayne Gaul, Ted Feurer, Jake Lederman, Jake Herzog, Mark Traver, Glenn Patterson, Joe Rack, Bill Lichliter, George Washburn, Bob Donnelly, Dave Hodgetts, Paul Guiton, Lou Schenck, Dick Dexter, Jack Norray, John Dap, Herb Bahrmann, and me.

— Photo from the Guilderland Historical Society

Altamont Carriage Works employees posed with several of their carriages outside of the factory where they had been made in the newly rebuilt works after the 1886 fire. After being the site of the carriage works, the building was converted to a garage and later was repurposed as a residential building 

During the second half of the 19th Century, New York State was dotted with small factories that had sprung up in both cities and small towns.

VanBenscoten & Warner’s Carriage Works, established on  Knowersville’s Church Street (now Maple Avenue) was one of these enterprises, producing a variety of horse-drawn vehicles for four decades. The carriage shop was built for Henry Lockwood and William and Jacob VanBenscoten on Lockwood’s property.

After Mr. Lockwood’s death, Jacob VanBenscoten formed a partnership with Charles B. Warner, although the site of the carriage shop itself remained at the Lockwood Estate.

Proving to be a lucrative business in that era of horse-drawn transportation, their manufacture of carriages, surreys, wagons, and sleighs on site by skilled craftsmen attracted customers from many towns in Albany and other nearby counties. The shop proved such a profitable enterprise that, instead of turning out the 150 vehicles originally projected for 1885, the owners now planned to produce 200.

Knowersville’s devastating April 1886 fire wiped out several buildings, affecting a number of businesses and destroying the carriage operation at a $3,000 loss. Community members feared the reputable and successful business that provided employment for many workers would relocate elsewhere, but fortunately for the village VanBenscoten and Warner made the decision to rebuild next to its original site.

According to The Enterprise, VanBenscoten was able to buy a building site from the Lockwood Estate adjoining their original location. That November after rebuilding the 40-by-100-foot physical plant, the business began stocking the raw materials needed to begin full production in January 1887. By mid-December 1886, potential customers were being urged to contact the owners with their orders for carriages or wagons.

Such an unprecedented number of orders poured in for carriages and wagons that the carriage works resumed operation at full capacity, hardly able to keep up with the demand. Four departments had workers doing woodworking, “ironing” or attaching metal parts, trimming the upholstery and roof coverings, and painting.

With many made to order for individual customers, these vehicles offered buyers “such springs, trimmings or painted to suit your taste without extra expenses.” Other generic wagons and carriages were made to be offered in the factory repository (showroom) section to potential buyers who simply stopped in at short notice.

The carriage works’ vehicles were described in the special 1897 Enterprise feature “A Tour Among Our Business Concerns” as products that combined “lightness and strength, style and finish, superior workmanship unexcelled.”

The year 1888 brought in orders for 40 wagons, most needed for farmers’ chores or used by grocers or other businesses. In addition to their local area sales, an out-of-town “wholesale house” ordered 35 carriages. The workers had difficulty producing enough to meet the demand, enjoying the most prosperous year yet, to be followed by an even more profitable year in 1889.

Jacob VanBenscoten died in December 1889, dissolving the partnership. Charles B. Warner continued the business on alone, though Mrs. VanBenscoten seemed to be a silent partner.

An astute businessman, Warner promoted the business by exhibiting his product at a New England and New York fair held near Troy in 1892. A quotation from the Albany Evening Journal noting that his display at this fair “cannot be equaled in the quantity of goods,” was reprinted by The Enterprise.

Locally, he entered big displays at both the Cobleskill and Albany County (later Altamont) fairs. His 1894 Albany County Fair exhibit consisted of several two-horse business buggies, top buggies, open buggies, a single pleasure sleigh, a two-horse three-seated surrey, a two-horse business wagon, and a fancy baker’s wagon.

Ever the aggressive businessman, Warner opened a branch showroom in Albany at 100 State Street and a second one in Halfmoon. There is no way of knowing how successful these showrooms were or how many years they were in operation. By 1895, Warner’s annual gross was almost $75,000.

 

New technology

That changes in technology began to creep in during the 1890s became evident when in 1894 Warner added improved machinery with an engine and boiler to his operation. The Enterprise noted he would be able to “turn out work at a rapid rate.” High-end carriages began to be made with the innovation of rubber tires and ball-bearing axles, appealing to affluent city drivers who could drive them on cobbled streets.

Another major change came to merchandising and production when it was announced that they had just received direct from a Lansing, Michigan wagon works a car load of various types of wagons to be sold at rock bottom prices.

Potential buyers were reminded that all kinds of carriages, surreys, and road wagons were still produced totally and on short notice. Your individual order could be filled as the one of M.F. Hellenbeck who purchased a “stylish three seated sleigh, handsomely upholstered in fine broadcloth” to be used in his Altamont undertaking business and the two furniture vans for an Albany man.

Albany Mayor John Boyd Thacher ordered a two-seated surrey. From the mid-1890s on, Altamont Carriage Works would offer carloads of less expensive wagons, carriages, and sleighs made elsewhere in large factories that had the capacity to mass produce cheaper goods in addition to their own custom-made work.

The 1890s were very good years for the carriage works. That 1897 Enterprise feature on Altamont’s businesses noted, “The quality and method of doing business also serves as the best possible assurance of continued success and permanent prosperity.”

 

Changing hands

The partnership between Almira VanBenscoten and Charles Warner ended in 1898 when she bought him out and for a short time ran the carriage works with her son. A year later, James K. Keenholts leased the carriage factory and in 1901 sold half interest to Dayton H. Whipple.

They continued the policy of offering lower priced factory-made wagons, carriages, and sleighs, while at the same time continuing to make vehicles to order on the premises such as the blue and gold runabout with rubber tires ordered by the city of Albany for the use of Police Chief James L. Hyatt at a cost of $137.50.

Regular advertisements appeared in The Enterprise offering repairing and repainting services in addition to new horse-drawn vehicles.

Like Charles Warner before him, James Keenholts was a proactive businessman, attending an 1899 carriage and wagon workers exhibit and convention in New York City where representatives from over 300 companies. Each employing three to 35 workers, were in attendance.

As president of the Eastern Vehicles Dealers Association, James Keenholts contracted New York City’s Grand Central Palace as the site for an exhibition of finished vehicles, planned to be the biggest carriage display in the East, plus accessories needed for horse-drawn vehicles, all for their convention.

 

“The Automobile Habit”

Did either Mr. Keenholts or Mr. Whipple happen to read page 3 in the May 4, 1900 issue of The Enterprise where a brief article appeared titled “The Automobile Habit,” which had been reprinted from The Washington Post?

Telling the story of United States Senator Wolcott of Colorado, an automobile enthusiast who drove an electric car powered by battery, the paper said he believed not only had the automobile come to stay, but “it will increase and multiply until the carriage drawn by horses is relegated into oblivion.”

On the following page, Keenholts and Whipple’s ad was urging people to get their wagons and carriages repaired or repainted at the Altamont Carriage Works. They also advertised in the Albany Argus that they were “manufacturers and dealers in fine carriages and sleighs whose specialties were Helderberg buckboards, physicians’ wagons and open road wagons.”

By the middle of that decade, it must have become obvious that owning a carriage factory was financial woe in the making.

Not only had carriage manufacturing been taken over by large factories in other parts of the country using machines for the manufacturing process to mass produce stock, but more and more attention was being paid to the automobile which was mentioned with increasing frequency in newspapers.

Already in 1905, the New York State Fair was promoting a day set aside as “Automobile Day.” A year later, the Enterprise news notes about local doings began to mention local people who actually had purchased automobiles.

The year 1908 marked the development of the Model T and once prices of cars came down to middle-class levels, there was no holding folks back.

But, in those early years of auto ownership, winter driving in upstate New York was impossible and for a few months it was back to horse-drawn equipages. Keenholts and Whipple were well aware of the automotive trend and diversified their offerings by beginning to carry a line of farm machinery and gasoline engines.

That year, the two announced they would be the agency for an automobile they would have on exhibit in their repository called the “Farmers’ Automobiles,” advertised as being fit for rural roads and at a low price besides. Two months later, their fair exhibit included carriages and wagons, but it seems their attempt as automobile dealers failed seeing nothing was heard of the car again.

Next, local competition began when Sands’ Sons, another pair of active Altamont businessmen, began advertising a variety of automobiles with the slogan, “The automobile is here to stay.”

In spite of the excitement over this new speedy conveyance, people were still buying carriages and wagons from the Altamont Carriage Works, their names listed among local news items. However, Keenholts & Whipple were hedging their bets and advertised heavily their farm equipment to take up the slack.

In 1909, they were optimistic enough to receive five carloads of wagons, carriages, and farm implements, much of which was to be on display at the Altamont Fair. The next year, the Altamont Carriage Works set up the usual display of wagons, carriages, and farm implements, but nearby Sands’ Sons showed “the celebrated Brush and White Steamer automobiles.”

James Keenholts died early in 1912 and, as of March 1, the proprietors of the Altamont Carriage Works became Dayton H. Whipple and Son. Although they continued to retail wagons and sleighs, the added services of painting and repairs of both horse-drawn vehicles and automobiles were also available. Case farm equipment and gasoline engines were also part of their inventory.

The years 1913 and 1914 brought few Carriage Works’ ads in the Enterprise, while in 1915 a “Notice to Farmers” appeared that the Altamont Carriage Works had established a catalogue system: If you hadn’t received your catalog in the mail, let them know.

Wagons and farm implements continued to feature in their inventory, but they also carried auto and machine oils and could repair all makes of automobiles.

The final blow fell the next year when Della Keenholts, the actual owner of the property, sold the premises for $3,500 to Morton Makely who planned to establish a modern garage and machine shop there.

The Whipples moved over to Park Row to continue their business, mainly farm equipment. The last time the words Altamont Carriage Works appeared in an ad was March 1917 from their new location.

After this time, their ads simply read “D.H. Whipple and Son” and the carriage works passed into history along with the carriages, wagons, and sleighs.

On a beautiful March day, with clear blue skies, the Old Men of the Mountain paraded to the Your Way Café in Schoharie. It was early on March the 7 to be exact, and the Old Men of the Mountain are beginning to get spoiled with this winter.

One OF mentioned that winter can’t seem to get beyond the Rockies. All the snow and miserable stuff is being dumped on those unfortunate people.

Some people are planning their camping trips already — hiking the trails has not stopped. Is camping as popular as it once was? The OFs did not really know.

One OF thought it was a good question to see if the trails, lean-tos, and camping areas are being visited like they used to be. It was thought these places may even be more well-liked.

One OF mentioned that,m at the Thompson Lake campsite, years ago, people would camp there all summer and just move from campsite to campsite. Another OF said he and his family were among the people who did this.

This OF and his brother would camp there most of the summer by doing just that. The kids loved it.

Now, from what one OF understands, it is necessary to reserve campsites in advance, and the Thompson Lake campgrounds quite often have to turn campers away because the site is full and so is the overload area.

 

What’s in a name?

The Your Way Café is in Schoharie, and that prompted a discussion on all this falderal and name changes. Now that this can of worms has been opened, will the counties with names like Schoharie have to be changed (and the creek)?

Will the fighting Irish of Notre Dame have to be changed? Will the state land of Dutch Settlement have to be changed?

One OF said, “Hey, I’m Irish and I like my heritage attached to places, or things that show that we are recognized.”

Of course the OFs are OFs, and quite a mix of cultures and nationalities but none are Indian so we have no idea how they feel.

 

Senior-living snafus

Ah, senior living! OFs and their counterparts gathered together to live in senior communities. The OFs talked about this to some extent because guess what? Most are seniors and this is firsthand chatter.

One OF went to help out a relative who lived in a senior complex with a leaky bathroom faucet. This is not a major operation. Generally, you just tighten the packing a tad, so this OF went over and did just that and the drip stopped.

However, he noticed that the shutoff valve was also dripping so he tried to tighten that and the dripping did not stop. This now became a job for the maintenance man who they called.

The maintenance man came and tried to do what the OF did and it still kept dripping so the maintenance man got a bigger wrench. Oops!

The OF thought this might not be the right thing to do and it wasn’t; with using that tool and applying much pressure, the pipe finally burst. Now they had water spraying out of the pipe with umpty-ump pounds of pressure clear across the room.

The maintenance man charged out of the bathroom and ran to the downstairs apartment only the occupants were not home. For some reason, the maintenance man did not have his keys so he had to smash in the door to get at the main.

By now, the water upstairs was a couple of inches deep, and had started running downstairs. Finally, the water was shut off and some major repairs had to be made. Senior living excitement.

The OFs who had some building experience thought that many of these places should have the engineers consult with seniors who live in the communities to see where the problems lie, and what would make living there more convenient.

One OF thought that the builders already know. There are enough of these senior-living places around so the OFs came to a conclusion that it all comes down to money.

One OF suggested that safety, no matter what, especially for seniors should be number one. Another OF thought that the old-fashioned way of building a house large enough so the parents did not have to leave home is the best way; however, the OFs know that the way the times are now in many cases it is not even practical to do that. It is a really sticky wicket.

One OF said, when he was young, he never thought about being old. Then he saw his parents get old, and he realized he was on the same road.

Now he is old, and he thought how, when he was young, his parents took care of him; all of a sudden, it became his time to take care of them and he didn’t know how.

 

Schoharie drifters

Your Way Café is on Main Street in Schoharie, which is Indian for “Driftwood,” and the Schoharie Creek probably supplied a lot of that, so the Old Men of the Mountain traveled to the Valley of Driftwood to feast on food for breakfast at the Your Way Café and they were: Roger Shafer, Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Doug Marshall, Frank Fuss, Glenn Patterson, Mark Traver, Miner Stevens, Joe Rack, Jim Rissacher, Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Bill Lichliter, Rev. Jay Francis, Rick Lagrange, Ed Goff, Marty Herzog, Jake Herzog, Ted Feurer, Matt Eschen, Dan Peletier, Lou Schenck, Jack Norray, Herb Bahrmann, Dick Dexter, Elwood Vanderbilt, Bob Donnelly, Dave Hodgetts, Paul Guiton, and me.  

— Photo by Mike Nardacci

A gaping sinkhole in the McFails Cave Preserve swallows a stream that flows through McFails Cave and resurges over two miles away.

Most New York State caves are closed to visitors from Oct. 1 to May 1. For information about McFails Cave and other area caves, visit www.northeatserncaveconservancy.org.

Karst lands such as those in Albany and Schoharie counties in New York State and elsewhere on our planet have long been described as “hollowed ground.” When the surface bedrock is limestone — and less commonly marble, dolomite, or gypsum — rainwater or surface water that has become mildly acidic due to the absorption of carbon dioxide will infiltrate the bedrock under the influence of gravity; it will then dissolve the rock away, creating underground streams and rivers along with extensive cave systems. 

In many regions, thick layers of limestone may be underlain by a type of rock such as shale or sandstone called an aquiclude that will not readily dissolve in acidic water, producing what geologists call base level; the water can then no longer dissolve downward but must find a way out of the rock and emerge as a spring, perhaps in a cliff such as those at Thacher Park or an artesian spring in which water under pressure flows upward against gravity.

Cave passages frequently develop along tectonic faults or angular cracks in the bedrock called joints, and so it is possible for several caverns with a common base level to join and form one extensive cave system.

In central Kentucky, for example, a number of lengthy individual caves on a plateau above the Green River have been found to connect to Mammoth Cave, producing a system now known to be over 400 miles in length. And similar geologic conditions in the plateau for thousands of surrounding acres hint that the cave’s passages may someday be found to extend for additional hundreds of miles.

The plateau stretching for miles above the city of Cobleskill can be seen as a somewhat smaller-scale version of the Mammoth Cave karst area: smaller-scale because its fossil-bearing Devonian-age Manlius and Coeymans limestone layers are much thinner than the 400-foot-thick limestone strata of central Kentucky and this fact limits the depth and number of the levels on which local caves can develop.

The forests and fields of the Cobleskill Plateau abound in known cave systems of various lengths, and yawning sinkholes — some 70 or more feet in depth — swallow rushing streams in warm months and belch clouds of icy condensation during times of severe cold, creating landscapes out of “The Lord of the Rings.”

Some of the plateau’s cave systems are known or suspected to connect with one another but dozens of sinkholes that are occluded by glacial boulders and soil allow only water to infiltrate and travel underground to previously known cave systems or still unknown destinations, effectively excluding human explorers.

 

Discovering McFails

One cave in particular, called McFails, the extent of which was unknown until the 1960s, has long excited both sport cavers and geologists. Its historic 110-foot vertical entrance lies in a stretch of mossy, shadowy acres of hardwoods and hemlocks filled with fissures, gaping sinkholes, and disappearing streams, all of which are known to feed into McFails.

Its name derives from the report that in the 1870s on a particularly hot and humid July day, a professor from a local academy by the name of T.C. McFail had descended on a rope ladder to the interior of the cave, a tight, wet, muddy fissure.

Whether he went any farther is unknown, but on his way back up the ladder — which he was climbing without a safety line — he passed suddenly from the 46-degree temperature of the cave into the sultry July heat and fainted, falling from the ladder and striking his head on a boulder. Despite his companions’ rescue efforts, he died, leaving his name as an ironic memory of his ill-fated exploration.

For nearly a 100 years, explorers entering the cave with proper technical equipment found only a few hundred feet of gloomy stream passageway, becoming too tight for human passage upstream and vanishing into a floor-to-ceiling pool downstream.

But in 1961 during a time of low precipitation, explorers from Cornell University found several inches of air above the pool and, though they had to get thoroughly soaked, they managed to push through the pool to find themselves in a high canyon with a rushing stream sometimes waist-deep that stretched for two miles and was filled with pristine formations.

And, as the canyon expanded into a series of chambers that rivalled in size those in nearby commercial Howe Caverns, another large passage — this one with a tubular cross-section and bearing another stream — entered from the northwest.

It was initially thought to extend for over a mile and terminate in a pile of huge breakdown boulders and slabs but explorers have pushed through it to find more of the main passage and side chambers that are still not fully explored.

Downstream the rushing creek passes through several “sumps” in which the water rises to the ceiling.  These have been penetrated by divers to a point at which the passage becomes blocked to further human exploration.

And more recently, intrepid explorers have found an upper level to the canyon passage filled with stalactites, stalagmites, and exceedingly delicate, glittering formations called helictites, all of which form through the evaporation of mineral-saturated water. Most visitors are encouraged to avoid the area to avoid damaging them.

Owned today by the National Speleological Society, the cave and its surrounding karst features are managed by the Northeastern Cave Conservancy, and draw scientists and adventurers from all over the world.

 

Connections

Years ago, the historic entrance to McFails became unstable and collapsed. Today, entrance to the cave is made through either of two vertical drops requiring ropework.

One has the Tolkien-ish name of “Ackshack” and also requires an exhausting 100-foot crawl leading to the main cave. The other is a dizzying descent of a silo-like pit that frequently takes explorers through a gushing waterfall.

In any case, the preserve rules require visitors to wear wetsuits to avoid hypothermia on trips, which frequently last upward of 12 hours.

Hydrogeologists use a technique called “dye tracing” when water is flowing through a cave system with fissures that are too tight for human passage. A harmless dye is injected into the water and watch is kept on springs and streams in nearby caves to see where it emerges. 

Years ago, it was determined that in times of normal flow the stream flowing through McFails Cave eventually finds its way to Doc Shauls Spring — an enormous artesian spring located in a crater-like depression more than two miles from the main entrance to McFails. From there it becomes tributary to the Cobleskill Creek.

However — in times of heavy snowmelt or excessive precipitation such as a tropical storm, the main passage of McFails becomes inefficient to carry all of the water rushing through the cave and the excess overflows into Howe Caverns, also more than two miles away from its insurgence points.

What makes the geologic situation even more interesting is the fact that a number of caves in the hills around Howe Caverns are connected to it — or were in the past. The remnant downstream section of Howe Caverns that was largely destroyed by quarrying operations is joined to Barytes Cave, which still exists.

Barytes in turn receives water from another undeveloped (or “wild”) cave called Benson’s, which is connected hydrologically to commercial Secret Caverns.  These caves are all formed in the Manlius and Coeymans limestone layers and have a common base level.

Hence, estimates are that, if all of the known or suspected fragments could be joined, Schoharie County could boast of a cave system around 26 miles long. But then the Cobleskill Plateau is pockmarked with many karst features that could eventually be found to lead to new, separate cave systems or to be part of the vast complex.

In the shadow of looming Barrack Zourie Hill, one other such independent cave is known; it has been explored for a distance of two miles and has a stream that is also a tributary to the Cobleskill Creek.

The Cobleskill Plateau has long been known for its lush hardwood forests — enticing in all seasons, spectacular in the fall — its rocky cliffs and stony streams, its diverse animal and plant life, its fertile fields and orchards, and its long and colorful history from the days of its indigenous inhabitants through its Colonial period, down to the present.

But its fame as a geologic wonder has for a long time been much less appreciated. Under the plateau’s ancient, rolling hills, chemistry and gravity have been at work for millions of years, creating a vast and still not completely known network of long, meandering channels through the darkness that beckon the curious to explore.