When I was in Girl Scouts, our troop had the chance to go down into an old Northern Minnesota mine. Now, this crazy little girl would have happily plunged head-first into the Pacific Ocean or dashed off into the woods, but you could not have gotten me into that mine even if Nick Carter was down there (my favorite of the Backstreet Boys, for those of you not born between 1983 and 1992).
Even now, you can’t get me into a small, confined space for love or money. When my friend Allyson mentioned that we could go into the cellar cave at a winery she used to work for, I’m pretty sure my facial expression was somewhere between a frightened guinea pig and a cat who just received an involuntary bath.
But fortunately, caves have gotten a wee bit more fun since I’ve reached the drinking age. The caves at Pine Ridge Cellars are more intriguing than intimidating, and there’s not a bat in sight. The barrels of wine are aged in here to maintain a cool, dark environment, and the space is also pretty conducive to cool parties. They also make one a bit goofy and attempt to recreate American Gothic (see above).
Once we traveled back up into the scorching sun, I found myself a bit wistful for the quiet and peaceful cave. Score one for grown-up Sarah; score zero for childhood fears.