Note:
This post was running close to 1,500+ words. My college papers didn’t even have
to be that long. So in order to add in all the fun we had … I’m breaking my
post into two different parts. So you’ll have to come back tomorrow to see if I
had a panic attack and went all loco de la cabasa while we were down there.
Sometimes
… people ask really dumb questions. For instance: my girlfriend/neighbor asked
if I wanted to come over for a glass of wine. To me, this is a really dumb
question. If it involves wine, food, or an adventure – I’m just not going to
say no. Ever. So naturally, when my husband asked if I wanted to go 650 feet
underground to a working salt mine … I excitingly asked him when and what
time?!
As
we pulled up to the Kansas Underground Salt Museum in
Hutchinson, Ks – I took one look at the place and wanted to turn back around.
How is THIS going to be entertaining? But I put on my best "this is going
to be sooo much fun" face and trekked into the building. After checking in
with the reservation desk (reservations are strongly encouraged), our tour
group was led into a small briefing room (still above ground) where we watched
a short mandatory safety video. The other things that are mandatory: A hard hat
– which I felt very cute in. And a "rescuer" – which is in the
event of a fire and/or cave-in. We were instructed to activate the rescuer by
snapping a seal on the top (like a pop can) and hold it up to our lips. It
would then convert carbon monoxide to carbon dioxide. Well that’s pretty cool,
I thought. And then we were told: "The rescuer may become hot and burn
your lips," … My eyes widened … "but do not remove it from your
mouth." Isn’t it a normal brain function to jump at the touch of something
hot? But ok. Burned lips are better than d-e-a-t-h, I suppose.
We
quickly learned that the rescuer is a natural precaution. Since the mine
started operations and the rescuers were invented – they have never ever, not
even once, had to use the rescuer in the salt mine. But in the back of my mind
all I could think was: "Welp, I have the worst luck in the fucking world …
so today will be the day that everyone in the mine at 1:00 in the afternoon
will have to pop the top on their rescuer."
After
the video you are quickly ushered into the next room to grab your own hard hat
and rescuer. The contraption is about the size of our video camera. After
awhile you forget you’re carrying it – until you go to take a picture of
something and realize you’re about to pop the top. Once you’re suited up … you
are then moved to a smaller room to a red line and some extremely
sturdy-looking steel doors. Our tour guide advised us that it is a double-decker
elevator and the first group of 8 of us will be on top of the other group of 8.
And that’s when I realized that I’m stuck. I forgot how claustrophobic I am and
now I’m going to ride in a steel, double-decker elevator with a bunch of people
I don’t know in complete darkness. But there’s no turning back now. And
hopefully when we get to the bottom, the guide below us won't forget to let us
off.
Luckily
my husband is amazing and held onto my shoulders, trying to help settle my
nerves. At least I hope that was my husband.
As
we started the 650 foot decent, our tour guide, Cary (which I highly recommend
you hunt down and spend some time with) told us that "the biggest fear
people have is coming down there in the first place". Which I completely
understand why. The elevator ride down is a pitch black decent with nothing but
the sound of banging, clanging, grinding, and rattling. "It’s the best we
could do" said Cary, "given we had to drill through 222 feet of rock,
128 feet of aquifer
(which first had to be frozen), and another 300 some feet of salt" – which
is so hard that you can’t even drive a nail into it. While that was extremely
helpful knowledge, I couldn’t help but wait for the thud as we crashed to the
bottom of the mine.
But
it never happened. When the hoist doors opened after the 70-second, 650 foot
descent down to the Kansas Underground Salt Museum, I found myself literally
standing in the middle of what was once an ancient Permian Sea and a one of a
kind adventure for the family. Inside the mine, everything is calm,
comfortable, spacious, and beautiful. As we exited the hoist waiting area we
were welcomed with a sign that read "Welcome to the Permian Sea" and
invited to touch a 6,000 lb. crystal salt rock and play in the Permian
Playground (a touch and feel exhibit with three compartments of different salt
found in the mine). From there we were on our own to leisure at our own pace
and experience the different entities the galleries had to offer.
The
salt in the mine is full of impurities (mostly slate and shale) and can’t be
used for human consumption. Consequently we were told, repeatedly, not to lick
the walls. So now I’ll never know if the snozzberries taste like snozzberries.
The majority of the salt harvested from the mine is used for de-icing roads in
major U.S. cities (most of it went to Chicago) and a small portion of it was
mixed into feed to provide nutrients to livestock.
Thanks
to the high ceilings, peaceful lighting, and my spontaneous and fun husband … I
was having a great time. Me … the girl who hates showering when no one is home.
Me … the girl who runs up the steps of the basement in case someone is chasing
me. Was having an amazing time. In a windowless, only-one-way-back-up, working
mine with explosives around the corner.
But
this was only a small part of the museum. We still had an endless hallway to
walk down. And tours to take. And Batman to see. And I could still totally lose
my cool while I’m down there.
Tune
in tomorrow to see if we make it out of there …
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