Some people love caves. I like caves and love driving, so the combination — Underground Missouri, wherever it takes us — is a natural.
Missouri, along with being the “Show-Me State” (and we’ll get to that later), also calls itself “The Cave State,” even though leader Tennessee outcaves Missouri 6,366 to 5,475. Tennessee, content to have Graceland and Dollywood, has not filed a protest.
(In the Midwest, Indiana, at 2,200, is tied for seventh; no other state in our region made the top 10. By the way, the difference between a cave and a cavern is one syllable.)
Of Missouri’s thousands of caves, 22 are “show caves,” which means they have lights and tours and admission charges. Seventeen of them claim some link to Jesse James. One of them, Meramec, claimed in the late 1940s to have the actual Jesse, alive, but we’ll leave that one alone.
We won’t visit all 22, but we’ll see a bunch.
Bring a jacket. It gets a little chilly in caves.
And bring a flashlight.
DAY 1
Hop on Interstate Highway 44 and it’s about 60 miles from St. Louis to Stanton, Mo. Over the second 30 miles, I counted 40 billboards for Meramec Caverns.
“Forty? You must have missed some,” said Bob, at Meramec’s ticket desk. “You must’ve been driving too fast.”
Meramec Caverns is Missouri’s most famous cave that doesn’t have Mark Twain in the title. It is part wonder, part hype — the latter a residue of its late owner and foremost promoter, Lester B. Dill, whose empire once also included Onondaga (Slogan: “If you want your eyes to go gaga, come and visit Onondaga.”) and Fisher Caves.
The other two belong to the state now; Meramec is still a commercial show cave, and that’s OK.
In high season, a tour group can be 120 people. On a Monday in late April, our group was five, plus Devin, the guide.
“Two episodes of `Lassie’ were filmed here in 1966,” said Devin. A wooden `Lassie’ sits around the corner, weathered by being knocked around by floods. “That’s why she looks more like Rin-Tin-Tin,” said Devin, who paused for a laugh that wasn’t there.
The weatherbeaten Lassie-Rinty is more convincing than two mannequins pretending to be Jesse and Frank James in their “hideout.” Maybe the James Gang actually did use this cave. Maybe.
We walked some more.
“Does anyone,” asked our guide, “have any objection to my turning out the lights?”
This ceremony — The Dousing of the Lights — is a cave tradition. It’s always a hit. Absolute darkness is startling.
This tour’s socko climax happens at a formation called the Stage Curtains, a mass of stalagmites (they rise up), stalactites (they hang down), columns (they’re what happens when a stalactite and stalagmite meet), flowstone and limestone drapery (they’re complicated).
In 1946, according to Devin, Kate Smith stood Stage Curtain right and sang “God Bless America” on that very spot.
There is no weathered, wooden Kate. We do get a recording, heard while Devin — looking like the Wizard of Oz after being exposed by Toto — is at a console improvising a light show.
The show ends with the Stars and Stripes projected on the Curtains.
“A lot of people,” said Devin, “come out in tears.” I came out eager to find Onondaga Cave — but heading up Highway W on the way to Onondaga, I saw a guy with a chain saw carving a bear out of a log.
Gary Patterson has won four national championships and two world titles in chain-saw carving. In his showroom are bears, eagles, Indians, golfers, all carved with a chain saw and without a plan.
Yes, he says, people have asked him to carve unusual things: “Things like — you wouldn’t want to print it.”
And just before going back onto the interstate, two signs beg for attention — for the Jesse James Wax Museum and, next to Jesse, the Antique Toy Museum.
Jesse’s museum wasn’t open that day and, according to neighbors, wasn’t open much last year either.
And the Antique Toy Museum doesn’t look like much from the outside. Looks deceived.
“Most people have no idea how much stuff is back here,” said Bruce Barnes, who has collected an awful lot of stuff. “It still surprises me.”
Barnes started collecting toys about the time he started driving trucks. Then he had his own trucking company, and still collected toys.
“In 1978,” he said, “I sold the trucking company and saved the toys. I like trucks, mostly. I collect Mack trucks too.”
In the museum’s back room: five real Mack trucks.
Most popular of all his toys: Mrs. Beesly, the cuddly doll from the cuddly “Family Affairs” TV show.
“It gets more attention than anything else in the place,” said Barnes. “To the point to where it really ticks me off.”
Onondaga Cave is about a half-hour drive and a philosophical eon from Meramec Caverns. There is no Kate Smith, no wooden Lassie, no dummy James Gang. Dill, when he owned Onondaga, claimed it was discovered by Daniel Boone, which was nonsense.
“Meramec’s a beautiful cave,” said Brian, a guide at Onondaga, “but a lot of it’s the presentation. It’s kind of hokey, in my opinion.
“This truly is a natural treasure. They’re all beautiful and unique in their own way, but the variety in here sets it apart. There are features here that don’t even have a name.”
There is creative lighting in Onondaga, but it’s white and amber — none of Meramec’s reds and blues. Its “Lily Pad Room” is remarkable. Parts of the trail are steep (Meramec’s are relatively flat), which adds to the fun.
It is real, and it is spectacular.
And there are more to come . . .
DAY 2
St. James is a pleasant Ozark town about 20 minutes southwest of Onondaga off I-44. Heinrich Grohe, who came to America from Germany’s Black Forest in 1959, has been making wine in St. James for 20 years from grapes you’ve probably never heard of.
“Everybody tried to grow European varieties,” he said, a pleasant trace of the old country still evident in his voice. “Everybody. It just didn’t work in Missouri.
“We make wines that nobody else makes. Our wines are just as good as anyone else’s. They’re just different.”
He poured a half-glass from one of the three bottles on a little table in a little tasting room. He calls it Prairie Gold, a white table wine from Delaware grapes, an American hybrid.
I swirled and sipped. It smelled and tasted like wine. That’s all I can tell you. I can fake the drill but know virtually nothing about the finer points — and my knowledge of the unfiner points had been dulled by a recent overload of chicken-fried steak.
Missouri has dozens of wineries. The St. James Winery is the local 500-pound gorilla. It has the billboards, does the tours.
Heinrichshaus, Grohe’s winery, has no billboards, no tours. It is miles from town and not easily found: The winery sign on his back road came down when he widened the driveway and is still down. There is no bus parking.
“They are looking for entertainment,” he said. “People who are looking for wine, they’ll find it.”
We chatted some more, about local culinary excellence (“It all comes out of the same vat.”), culture (“There isn’t any.”) and other things. Before I leave town, he said, I should see Maramec Spring Park.
The park is part park, part industrial ruin (remnants of Maramec Iron Works, shut in 1876, are scattered about) and part trout stream.
“We stock it every night,” said the woman at the gate.
The livestock comes from the trout holding pool, which is near the namesake spring. Zillions of rainbow trout are in there.
“Some of the big ones, they pull out for tournaments,” said a local woman who, with out-of-town friends, was tossing food pellets (a handful costs a quarter) into the pool.
The trout scrambled for the pellets like piranhas devouring a cow.
And 12 miles the other side of Rolla: Onyx Mountain Caverns.
This is a family cave. The grandparents opened it to visitors nine years ago, a daughter works the register, a grandson (Craig) is the guide. Unlike the guides at big caves, Craig doesn’t try to look like a ranger. He looks like what he is: a college student trying to make gas money.
A steep but paved trail leads from the ticket office/gift shop to the cave entrance, which in turn leads to a large (cavernous?) room featuring one major formation.
“That one,” said Craig, “we call either `The Waterfall’ or `Two Ice Cream Cones That Are Melting.’ “
Some onyx was mined from the cave a century ago, and slabs of it wound up in the old Post-Dispatch building in St. Louis. Before that, it was home to local black bears — their beds are clearly visible — and woodland Indians, who left fire pits and artifacts all over.
“Hardly any other cave talks about the Indian culture,” said Craig.
Past the fire pits and bear dens, the path narrows, then widens to reveal marvelous formations. One room looks like the inside of a tobacco barn. Lighting is simple but effective.
The tour is worth the half hour it takes.
Springfield is next. For many folks, it’s the Gateway to Branson, 35 miles south. For others, the lure (pardon the expression) is Bass Pro Shops’ flagship store, which bills itself as “Missouri’s 1 Attraction!”
For us, the lure of Springfield is another cave.
DAY 3
It’s called Fantastic Caverns, it’s just a few miles north of Springfield, and you won’t get lost trying to find it. Only Meramec has more billboards.
It’s OK but it is not Missouri’s most fantastic cavern. It does have a fantastic gimmick: Instead of following a chatting guide through a dripping cave on foot, the chatting guide loads everyone into a tram and hauls them through the drips.
“It allows folks that normally wouldn’t get to see a cave to see one,” our guide, Greg, said afterward. Added Sean, another guide: “And people don’t walk out carping that their feet hurt.”
The cave was discovered in 1867 when a dog chasing something found the opening; later, the cave was a speakeasy, casino and radio studio. The craps tables are gone — I assume — but the stage is still there.
“I remember when I was 3 years old, my daddy brought me in here to see Buck Owens,” said Greg.
Early in the drive, Greg stopped the tram and asked the inevitable cave-guide question: “Does anybody here have a problem with the dark?” This time it was more than lights-out: On a screen affixed to a cave wall, Greg showed us a cave movie. The film not only taught us something but also filled time; otherwise, what would be an hour-long walk would be a 15-minute drive and not worth $13.95 plus tax.
It was time for Branson — but first, because it’s my job, I stopped at Missouri’s 1 Attraction!
This mother of all Bass Pro Shops covers 300,000 square feet, which is a lot. Everyone gets a store map and needs it to get past the stuffed critters and find the fish ponds and aquariums, the four-story waterfall, the alligator (live), the ammo (live) and the snakes (live).
“We have Missouri snakes right here,” said the greeter, pointing to my map. “Of course, we’ve got a McDonald’s. When you look at it all over, you’ll see why it’s so unique.”
Now, finally, to Branson. The main route is U.S. Highway 65, and it’s through land that would be pretty if you could see it through the Branson billboards.
In other words, it prepares visitors for the mess that is Branson. The town is on our itinerary because there’s a cave there: Talking Rocks Cavern. Maddeningly heavy traffic — this is Branson, folks — kept me from getting there before closing time.
That evening I saw a show starring Shoji Tabuchi. Tabuchi plays the fiddle, sings a little and dances a little, which doesn’t begin to describe what happens on stage.
It was a marvelous show.
In the men’s room of the Shoji Tabuchi Theatre: a regulation pool table.
Forgive me, folks, and I know it’s an eyesore and in many ways a cruel use of splendid Ozark real estate — but I love Branson.
DAY 4
Talking Rocks Cavern was Fairy Cave until the 1960s, when the fine people at Silver Dollar City (a nearby theme park) tried to turn it into something rather, um, unusual.
“They put in this big, booming sound system and speakers so the rocks would `talk,’ ” said our guide, Bill. “It terrified kids.”
So they ripped out the big, booming sound system and speakers, then dropped the cave from the Silver Dollar City attractions pool — but the name stuck.
And the cave? If you have vertigo, this isn’t where to go.
Most Missouri caves (including all the ones we’ve seen so far) are roughly horizontal, maybe with a little slope and an occasional dip. Talking Rocks is like a well. Up and down. A total of 265 steps. It’s a little scary. It’s also gorgeous.
Late in the tour, Bill turned off the lights.
“We’re gonna put on a light show here,” he said. Like the Meramec light show, the lights are controlled by the guide, and Bill is only in his fourth day at Talking Rocks. “I’m still kind of jittery,” he said, “but I’m working at it.”
And to the music of an unfamiliar but suitable piano concerto, Bill brought color to the stalagmites and stalactites and columns and draperies, fading the lights in and out gently with the sound. The jitters didn’t show; the beauty did, and the group clearly enjoyed the spectacle.
Lunch is at the Tropical Paradise, a little restaurant in Reeds Spring, north of Branson. The daily special at the Tropical Paradise: country-fried steak, which here is identical to a chicken-fried steak.
Why, I ask a waitress, is this Ozark diner called the Tropical Paradise?
“Because it’s so . . . tropical,” she says. “What do you want us to do, wear grass skirts?”
The drive up Missouri Highway 13/265 — an alternative to the blighted U.S. 65 — winds through the Ozarks, up and down hills, past farms and pastures. The redbuds and dogwoods are in bloom. The turns make it a little slow in spots, but it’s a wonderful road, and in fall it must be a knockout.
A return to U.S. 65 near Springfield takes us through that city and on to Buffalo (home of possibly the state’s ugliest courthouse) and Missouri Highway 73, which makes a nice shortcut to U.S. Highway 54; this road brings us into the Lake of the Ozarks and Camdenton — site of Bridal Cave.
Since the first one in 1949, 1,662 weddings have been performed in front of Bridal Cave’s “Pipe Organ” formation. Prices start at $325, including the minister and the music.
“I think 150 people fit in here one time,” said Harry, the guide, “but that was too many.”
It being late afternoon — which probably explains the vigorous bat activity (wedding guests must love that) — this tour was just Harry and me. He went through the usual drill. “What we always do here,” he said, “is give everybody a taste of cave darkness . . .”
It’s a nice cave. Harry, as do all the guides, explained that cave formations take millions of years to develop. I believe him. Not everyone does.
“The `creationists’ come in here with an attitude,” said Harry. “Some of them just want nothing more than to make the guides look stupid. They can get almost hostile.”
The tour over, Harry and another guide, Steve, talked about favorite caves. Onondaga rates high.
“Just don’t go to Talking Rocks,” said Steve. “It’s a stupid, stupid tour. You get drenched is all you do — and they do this light show with stupid music. That’s not what a cave should be. It should be natural.”
Guides can get almost hostile.
DAY 5
We’re headed for Graham Cave State Park north of Hermann. My research said it has centuries-old Indian artifacts.
U.S. 54 will get us close, but not before taking us through Jefferson City, Missouri’s capital. Handsome capitol building. Good artwork inside. In 1936, Thomas Hart Benton created a mural for the House Lounge depicting his version of the state’s social history. It is quite the mural. Not all Missourians were pleased.
I wanted the “Show-Me” story. The version favored by a gentleman named Wiley at the information desk involved a congressman who, after another man’s speech, responded with his own, which included something like this: “Frothy eloquence does not impress me. I’m from Missouri. You’ve got to show me.” And it caught on from there.
The other versions are boring.
About 20 miles north of Jeff City, at Westminster College in Fulton, Winston Churchill in a 1946 speech first uttered the term “Iron Curtain.” On the campus is a church built in part from the rubble of a London church bombed out during World War II, a statue of Churchill and an evocative sculpture created from eight panels of the Berlin Wall. The sculptor, Edwina Sandys, was Churchill’s granddaughter.
Graham Cave was something of a disappointment to anyone but the University of Missouri archeology department, which has exclusive access. Visible at the entrance, through a fence, are stones that indicate an Indian presence in the cave hundreds of years ago; whatever else was found is somewhere else.
But the short drive down Missouri Highway 19 to Hermann was another pretty one as it crossed the Missouri into this winemaking mecca with a German accent.
I stopped at Hermannhof Winery (since 1852) to sample.
Best question ever asked Brenda, who does tastings at Hermannhof: “What kind of grapes are in the cherry wine?”
DAY 6
We’re headed to Hannibal and one last cave.
This is a good drive. We’re back on pretty Missouri 19 north to Montgomery City, where we pick up Missouri Highway 161, equally pretty as it moves through little towns, little farms and pastures grazed by large livestock.
At Bowling Green, we revisit U.S. 54, which takes us into Louisiana, a town that’s a series of surprises. The first comes near the welcome sign, where we spot Gates of Peace Cemetery. Its wrought-iron sign is in English and Hebrew, and it’s dated 1871. In this state, heavily Baptist and Lutheran and Roman Catholic, one doesn’t expect this — but Louisiana is an old Mississippi River town, and river towns meant commerce, and commerce meant opportunity, and opportunity drew everyone.
Grand Victorian homes line Georgia Street. The Stark Bros. Nursery, America’s oldest, is on the edge of town. The central business district is one beautiful storefront after another, freshly painted — but without many businesses.
What happened here?
“Wal-Mart,” says the owner of an antique store.
Fifteen cemeteries are listed on the Pike County Tombstone Tour. Gates of Peace is one of them. Another, St. John’s, has relatives of Meriwether Lewis and Thomas Jefferson. Another, Riverview Cemetery, sits on a bluff that provides one of the best views of the Mississippi anywhere.
In Louisiana, U.S. 54 connects with the Great River Road. Here, it’s Missouri Highway 79, and we take it north.
Not much River, but it’s a Great Road — farms, forests, bluffs. It rolls gently, and every turn is a delight.
This is about as good as drives get.
Approaching Hannibal on 79, the river finally comes into view. And on the left, a sign: Mark Twain Cave.
For many of us, our first cave adventure was with Tom Sawyer. Our last cave on this adventure must be this one.
It was Missouri’s first “show cave,” opening to visitors in 1886 — 10 years after Samuel Clemens made it famous — and it has been open ever since. They say 250,000 people left their names or initials on its walls, a practice no longer allowed. Among the scrawlers: Jesse James. The real one.
It is a maze of passageways cut into Louisiana limestone by water and time. There are bats, but few formations. It has a kind of beauty to it, but its greater importance is in the images it recalls.
“This room is what we call `The Parlor,’ ” said Sarah, our guide. “It was here that Tom Sawyer uttered the three words every woman wants to hear: `Becky, I’m lost.’ “
Hannibal has other Twain sites: Sam Clemens’ boyhood home, Becky’s home, other things real or reconstructed, and they are fine. But none is as true as this cave.
It is perfect. And for us, on this journey, it’s the perfect end of the road.
UNDERGROUND MISSOURI
– DAY 1
St. Louis-Cuba: 104 miles.
Overnight: Best Western Cuba Inn, Cuba; $36.96.
Best grub: Dinner buffet (roast beef, fried chicken, smoked sausage, other stuff, plus desserts including cherry cobbler), $6.95; Rose’s Place, Cuba.
– DAY 2
Cuba-Springfield: 182 miles.
Overnight: Comfort Inn, Springfield; $58.50.
Best grub: Dinner buffet (hickory ribs, fried catfish chunks, smoked sausage, other stuff, plus desserts including apple cobbler), $7.50; Tiny’s Smoke House, Marshfield.
– DAY 3
Springfield-Branson: 72 miles.
Overnight: Best Western Music Capital Inn, Branson; $64.95.
Best grub: Heart of Texas ribeye, $15.95; Gilley’s Texas Cafe, Branson.
– DAY 4
Branson-Camdenton (Lake of the Ozarks): 152 miles.
Overnight: Ramada Limited, Osage Beach; $64.12.
Best grub: Ozark smoked trout (appetizer), batter-fried lobster tail, $43.50; Blue Heron, Lake Ozark.
– DAY 5
Lake of the Ozarks-Hermann: 132 miles.
Overnight: Hermann Motel, Hermann; $35.10.
Best grub: Battered tenderloin sandwich, $3.95; Kemna’s Dinner Bell, Eldon.
– DAY 6
Hermann-Hannibal: 112 miles.
Overnight: Hannibal Inn, Hannibal; $39.
Best grub: Whole battered deep-fried catfish, $10.95; TJ’s Supper Club, Hannibal.
Total miles: 754.
Lodging prices are for one person; doubles are slightly higher. All prices subject to change. In general, listed mileage is by indirect routes.
NOTES FROM THE ROAD
Highlights: Meramec Caverns, Onondaga Cave, Onyx Mountain Caverns, Fantastic Caverns, Talking Rocks Cavern, Bridal Cave, Graham Cave, Mark Twain Cave.
Road food: Barbecue (ribs), fried chicken, tenderloins, cobblers (cherry, apple, blueberry, blackberry and peach, preferably warm with ice cream), catfish, biscuits and gravy, country ham, country-fried steak.
Essential stop: Onondaga Cave.
Easy sidetrip: Ste. Genevieve, Mo.
Road most overhyped: Old Route 66. Enough already; it’s not that great.
Cheapest gas: 91.9 cents a gallon, Phillipsburg.
Best meal: Ozark smoked trout, batter-fried lobster tail; Blue Heron, Lake Ozark.
Best hotel: Best Western Music Capital Inn, Branson.
Best Branson billboard: “From Red to Redneck.” Yakov Smirnoff.
Second best: “Bring the kids. Oh, heck, bring their kids, too.” Welk Show.
Best souvenir: Cave helmet with headlight; many cave gift shops, $7.95-$9.95.
Road best traveled: Missouri Highway 79 from Louisiana to Hannibal.
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ON THE ROAD with Alan Solomon.
You can be part of our Great American Drives by going to our special board on the Internet Tribune: chicago.tribune.com/go/drive. While each drive is under way, you can read daily updates, swap messages with Alan Solomon (and our readers) and — quite literally — tell him where to go. Here’s where he’ll be traveling next:
Week of May 10: Civil War battlefields. Reports of this tirp will appear May 24.
Alan Solomon’s e-mail address is: alsolly@aol.com
