After a day of driving, we are in South Dakota, the state of presidential heads. Although we subconsciously understood that these heads aren't exactly a mind-blowing wonder, perhaps due to the impression left by Yellowstone, we were met with confusion and disappointment upon arrival. Well, no, not disappointment (after yesterday, that's unlikely), but a complete lack of emotion regarding today.

12 dollars per person at the entrance to the Mount Rushmore monument (per person, not per car—a first for us in the USA) for an alley with state flags and 4 not-very-well-drawn heads. It's not that I begrudge the money, but there was definitely a feeling of slight confusion, like when you're expecting a date and her dad shows up instead))

In terms of austerity, narcissism, and atmosphere, it resembles fascist Alleys of Glory or Stalin-era avenues. You can definitely feel the era. We figured we just didn't understand this place (quite sincerely) and drove further south.

There are several other such sculptures in the rocks there, like the Crazy Horse Memorial or others. It's simple here—we look from the road, check the box next to Rushmore, and drive further south. Where were we so stubbornly heading, off our route to Chicago, you ask? We didn't even know ourselves. Dakota was home to the first national parks we knew almost nothing about: Wind Cave and Badlands.

Badlands, as it turned out later, is a local copy of some canyon (though quite decent, if you have time, stop by), but Wind Cave is something else entirely...

It was about 4 PM. We had driven through probably 3/4 of Wind Cave park, but hadn't even noticed any sign of the mountains where our caves might be located. We almost hit the third animal of the day (the first was a fawn we barely swerved around in Teton while it was peacefully grazing on the road. The second was a rabbit crossing the road at night on the way from Wyoming. Again, we swerved, but I still can't understand how I managed to keep the car from kissing the ditch at 170 km/h:))). But this deer also remained intact, and we, incredibly happy about it, pulled up to the Visitor Center.

It turns out there were 10 minutes left until the last tour of the day. We met the best guide in the world here. I don't know what this cave would have looked like without him, but with him, it was the most interesting place on the planet during those 2 hours of the tour. There is only one entrance to the cave—a 20 by 10 cm hole hidden in the ground, which, due to the difference in air properties, creates wind and whistling, which is what the Indians noticed, giving the cave its name. The Indians thought spirits lived here and never visited the cave until a 16-year-old white boy found it...

The entrance was located not far from the backyard of the boy's new house, and it was one of those cases where the place found its hero... Every day for 3 years, the boy would disappear there, carrying only a rope and candles... He did titanic work, mapping 22 km of caves. And he didn't even put all the places he knew on it. That's why our guide, who had gone with a group three weeks prior to discover new places, when he climbed into a grotto unknown to any scientists, discovered an inscription on the wall: "Alvin McDonald was here, November 19, 1893."

No one knows where else this guy had been, and no one knows how much more he could have done, but less than a month after creating this inscription, he died of tuberculosis while traveling to see the President to ask for the Cave to be made a National Park. His request was granted...

We enter through a specially built elevator—everything is very interesting, we look at halls and passages, sometimes insanely cramped, sometimes the size of a house, but it's all like a museum, we just walk and walk. Well, it's a cave. Camera flashes click, Japanese tourists walking right behind us laugh. Suddenly we reach a spot where the guide stops. "One day, Alvin disappeared in the cave for 3 days," the guide said. "No one knew what happened to him, but when his brother entered the cave, it turned out that the rope Alvin was using to return home had snapped." The guide fell silent for a moment, fueling our curiosity.

"So, Alvin, a 17-year-old boy at the time, was lost in the fourth-longest cave in the world, without food, water, or means of communication," the guide continued. "He used candles in the cave,"—at this point, the guide turns off the lighting and lights a single candle. Everything immediately becomes mysterious and incredibly interesting. The flame rhythmically sways the cave vaults, changing the outlines of objects. You start to feel a pit in your stomach.

"But that day, he had only taken enough candles for a day and a half, which meant he had to find his way out of the cave... in pitch... darkness,"—in the semi-darkness, it was barely possible to make out the guide's facial expression. "Now we will try to understand what that is like. I ask everyone to remain silent because we will be watching and listening..."—with that, he blows out the candle with a light exhale.

Darkness. Complete. And Silence. You wait for your eyes to adjust. A minute passes—it seems they have. You start to distinguish silhouettes. No one is talking. The guide whispers, asking whose eyes have adjusted. Most of the group hums affirmatively. "Then stretch out your hands and look at them," the guide says. You stretch them out. Or do you? Or yes? Wait, your body is stretching them out, but you can't see it. You can poke yourself in the eye, and you still can't see anything.

"Absolute darkness," the guide says, as if reading your thoughts. Spoken aloud, this phrase echoes hollowly in your head. A shocked silence follows, lasting about a minute. "And absolute, total silence... And would YOU be able to find the exit if YOU didn't have candles?" Despite everything, a slight panic rises in you. You can't get out of here, never, no one can, it is IMPOSSIBLE...

"It's impossible, you think?" the guide repeats your thoughts. "No landmarks. No signs. No light. You are on your third day without water or food. No one will even look for you. And perhaps, they will never find you. So, is it impossible?" Five seconds of silence and pitch-black darkness covered us like an invisible shadow. No, it's impossible...

"Well," the guide clicked his tongue. "One way or another, three days after Alvin went missing, a tired young man walked into the McDonald house, went straight to his room, and locked himself in..." You can't even swallow. The candle lights up.

"How Alvin got out, no one ever found out; he never told anyone. He just returned home and didn't approach the cave for another two whole weeks..."

Everyone is just stunned. Nothing like this has ever been done to me. It's indescribable. Suddenly, everything in your head was turned upside down, scattered on the floor around you, and you were asked, "Who are you?" You feel that you are no longer the person who stood here 5 minutes ago; you were shown a reality whose existence you hadn't even guessed at before.

Then we walked with the candle again—how the shadows play, how mystical and unfathomable everything is around! From a dust-filled museum, the cave turned into something untouched, unexplored. And you are the first to open its eternal book...

The spirit of discovery is striking. Your heart beats, the guide asks at a fork in the road: "Which way to go? 4 roads. 3 lead to a dead end and only one to the surface. What would you choose?" You don't know, you think, you get lost, you hope. From just a picture, everything around you turns into something you are currently living in. This is one of the strongest sensations I have ever experienced in my life...

Then there was the exit to the surface, the sky, something else, but the strange feeling that you are not looking at everything with your own eyes didn't leave for the rest of the time. The world is incredible; it's worth looking at it a little differently...