Yes, you read right. It is a cave. Or, at least, it is part of a cave. Let me explain.

It all started on a sunny afternoon about 600 million years ago when continental drift caused the Americas to pull away from the European and African motherlands. In doing so, a shallow valley was created between modern day Alabama and Newfoundland. By 400 million years ago, the area had been flooded to turn into a sea where the Appalachian Mountains now tower. Sediments built up on the ocean floor, as sediments often do, followed by a layer of limestone from ancient marine animals and seashells. Over time, these two layers were smashed into one layer of metamorphic rock.

As eons passed, two of the Earth's tectonic plates crashed together the cymbals of a toy monkey. The older of the two plates, the one made up of the metamorphic rock, eventually pushed over the younger layer, pushing skyward the Appalachians. As the ground pushed itself to new heights, the sea drained way and left only a slow drip. This drip was just enough to create some of the most beautiful natural decoration known to man.

Deep in the heart of the newly formed mountains, a giant of a cave had been formed. Water drained down through the ground, through the buildup of metamorphic rock to form a calcium carbonate solution, and then into the great hole underneath. Once into the open air, the solution sheds spare carbon dioxide and forms lime. Stalactites reach down, stalagmites push up, and a musical instrument is conceived.

After 400 million more years (give or take a century or so), a tinsmith from Luray Virginia holds a candle over a limestone sinkhole, hoping to see what was inside of it. The cold air rushing out was enough to blow out the candle. Andrew Campbell knew what that meant. There was a cave down there. He kept his hand close to his vest, only letting a handful of people know. On August 13, 1878, Campbell, along with photographer Benton Stebbins, two other men, and Andrew's 13 year old nephew Quint dig loose rock out of the sinkhole. After four hours, they manage to make a hole large enough to slide through. It was then that Andrew, followed by Quint, slid down a rope and into the largest cavern system in the eastern United States.

Andrew Campbell had a problem: He did not own the land above his newly discovered gem. Instead, it was in the possession of Luray citizen Sam Buracker, a man who had accumulated plenty of uncollected debts. Just over a month after the cavern had been discovered, the land was to be sold at public auction to repay some of Buracker's debts. Naturally, Andrew Campbell and Benton Stebbins made sure that no one had found out how valuable the land actually was. Naturally, they purchased the land.

Once the sale was final, they dropped their mountain-sized bomb. For three years, attorneys fought the “Battle of Luray Caverns.” Buracker argued that, since he did not know the actual value of the land, Campbell and Stebbins had committed fraud and demanded the deed back. By April of 1881, the Supreme Court of Virginia agreed with Buracker and nullified the purchase. The property was then sold to The Luray Cave and Hotel Company, a subsidiary of the present-day Norfolk and Western Railroad Company.

Over the next 20 years, the property changed hands several times. In 1901, T.C. Northcott leased the land over the cave in order to build Limair, a sanitarium that became the first air-conditioned home in America thanks to the cool air of the cave. Four years later, Luray Caverns Corporation, a company started by Northcott, purchased the caverns outright and began the process of turning it into the mega-tourist attraction that it is today. Forty-nine years later, the Great Stalacpipe Organ was born.

Enter Leland W. Sprinkle, a mathematician and electronic scientist. Mr. Sprinkle did not get his daily fill of music working at the Pentagon. I have no idea what Mr. Sprinkle did at the Pentagon, but in Luray Caverns he built the Great Stalacpipe Organ. It took three years of searching to find the correct stalactites that, when tapped by electronic mallets, produced a precise match of a musical scale. He then wired the mallets back to a central keyboard.

Leland located the keyboard in a cavern room named the Cathedral due to its enormous size. The whole instrument, mallets and all, covers three and a half acres of the caverns around the room, making it the world's largest by a great measure. A key is pressed, and a symphonic quality tone is emitted the tapped stalactite. While the instrument is still fully capable of being played manually, today it is attached to an automated system that works much like a musical jewelry box.

The organ is not the only amazing feature at Luray Caverns. You do not get to be the most popular caverns in Eastern America by being a one trick pony. Also along the tour you can see Titania's Veil, a pure calcite flowstone formation, Pluto's Chasm, which stretches for almost 200 yards, and Saracen's Tent, recognized and one of the world's best-formed drapery structures.

Admission to Luray Caverns tops out at $19 for adults. Children 12 and under are admitted for about half that. Included in the price of admission to the caverns is the Car & Carriage Caravan, a history of the United States told through cars, carriages, and coaches. Also at the Luray Caverns complex is the Garden Maze, where for and additional $6 you can wander the one acre, one-half mile pathway. Another interesting attraction is the Singing Tower, also know as the Belle Brown Northcott Memorial. Forty-seven bells, ranging in weight from 12 ½ up to 7,640 pounds, performs regular free recitals in the spring, summer, and fall.

Luray Caverns is located just ten short minutes from the central entrance to Skyline Drive. Open every day, year round, tours depart every ten to twenty minutes. For more information, contact them at 540-743-6551, or visit them on line at luraycaverns.com. But when you visit, don't ask to play the organ. They will not let you. Not even if you beg. I tried.