From as far back as I can remember, I’ve had a “thing” with caves. I’m sure it has to do with the fact that my dad liked them, so when I was a little kid and we’d go on vacation, we’d stop at caves. So by the time I was, I dunno, 4 or so, I had already been to Howe Caverns in Upstate NY, Luray Caverns in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley, and probably a couple of other caves I don’t remember visiting. Joe, either liking caves as well, or just putting up with me, was happy (or at least willing) to explore caves with me so since the time we’ve been married, we’ve explored lava tubes in Hawaii, as well as caves and caverns in Texas, New Mexico and Cuba. So when we realized that Grand Canyon Caverns was (A) in the middle of our drive between the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas, (B) was on Route 66 and (C) had been visited by the Ghost Adventures Crew (Joe is a fan) because of possible paranormal activity, we knew we had to include it in our trip.