Got to the park at 10:30am, already a decent-sized crowd. Turns out it was the park's 70th birthday, hence the self-guided tour was free. I had plenty of time before the 11:15 tour I had booked, so I went ahead and took the 3/4 mile sneak-peek.
Kinda weird being here alone. Not bad, just odd. Half the park rangers are old men, and the other half are (for the most part) attractive young women. Bus loaded up at 11:25 after a brief "White nose syndrome will kill you and your grandma" talk. Note to self: don't go on a tour with 79 other people again. It was pretty awesome down there, but waiting on everybody else kinda sucked, and all the kids started to get whiny and annoying after about the first 12 stairs.
Tour got done around 3:15. One of the non-old man park rangers got me a backcountry permit even though the desk was closed. At 3:30 in the afternoon. On a Friday. I picked a site at random and headed off in the direction of Brownsville, KY, a small town on the fringe of the park. I wasted some time driving around, then pulled into Laura's Hilltop "Home Cookin" Restaurant for some "real" food before setting up camp. It was a charming little place, full of senior citizens and antiques. A girl with a thick accent (even by Tennessee standards) brought me what turned out to be way too much food, and I tried to eat it slowly while reading and writing this log, since I had a significant chunk of daylight to kill. Got a handful of quizzical looks from the other patrons, whom Laura herself all knew by name, but it was a pretty friendly place, overall.
Headed off to the campsite trailhead at about 6pm, passing through sleepy downtown Brownsville again. Luckily I made it to the ferry (over the river I had neglected to notice) with 15 mins to spare before it anchored for the night, and found the trailhead parking lot without a problem.
Strike that, with two problems: BUGS. HEAT.
After four hours of the constant 54 degrees of subterranean Kentucky, the stagnant and muggy 90 degrees of the surface, combined with every swarming insect known to man (why do they love the face?? And where are all these species of bats I heard about in the caves?) proved nearly unbearable. Yet I survived a deceptively mile-marked march to Three Springs campsite, where I set up my tent in solitude and swiftly retreated to its bug-proof-ness, from where I'm currently finishing this log while being serenaded by cicadas, toads, and who knows what else.
No cell phone service out here, so I don't know what time it is (great thinking, LG). Probably 8ish. Ferry doesn't run till 10:15 in the morning, so I can sleep in before heading up to Indianapolis. Hope it doesn't rain tonight.
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