A cold wind blows continually from a grated shaft that drops into the darkness of the Orient Mine. Nearby, a makeshift altar of stones and other small treasures is a reminder of lives lost here, under the mountain. A brave soul, with guidance and permission from Neil, can scoot down the metal culvert into the old mine tunnel where surface light quickly disappears. The floor is uneven with fallen rocks, and in some places, crystal clear pools of ice and ice sculpted into graceful forms. One can continue for hours, down narrow tunnels, past rock choked side tunnels, through large, echoing open rooms and under old mine chutes from the level above, bursting with rocks that once tumbled into waiting ore cars below. On the guide leads, up long wooden ladders with missing rungs, up a spiraling natural sandstone cavern where small local bats are suspended, hibernating through the winter. And if one is strong and still willing for adventure, the trail continues up a hanging pipe, hands grasping a trailing rope, feet braced against the rock wall, to the very bottom of the Glory Hole.

   The Glory Hole - the large gaping hole in the earth connecting the deep stillness of the underground with the open air above is now the home of our migrating Mexican free-tailed bat colony. The Glory Hole - where miners lost their lives on a cold winter morning, February 12, 1893. The sound of the cave-in shook the earth and broke windows in the town of Villa Grove, 10 miles away. Stories circulated about hundreds being buried, their bodies never recovered. Miners and the companies they worked for were mistrustful of each other and rumors circulated of a cover up by Colorado Fuel and Iron, the company that owned Orient Mine. These stories continued over the years, and while we think we know the truth today, there are still some who question.

   The Orient Mine used the "stope" method of mining. A tunnel was driven under the ore body. The ore above was blasted, then fell onto a sloping floor and rolled toward the opening. As these ore bodies were mined, the tunnel grew to a room, and sometimes to a large cavern or stope, with several un-mined pillars supporting the roof. On that cold morning, someone made the decision to mine those pillars, rich with ore. A hanging wall, part ceiling and part wall, collapsed, crushing the miners below. It is now believed that six were killed outright, and nine were seriously injured, and that all bodies were recovered.

   The years have passed. Now the sound of a lone hawk fills the Glory Hole, the echoes of the mining days long silent. While few have the chance to travel through the mine to the bottom of the Glory Hole, a trail leads to the above ground opening and the entrance to the bat cave. On summer evenings, the still night is filled with the rushing sound of hundreds of thousands of free-tailed bats swarming out into the dusk. What was once the scene of death has now been transformed into that of abundant life.

   For a comprehensive account of the Big Cave In, read The San Luis Valley Historian, Volume XX, Number 2, 1988, which is available at the Orient Land Trust Welcome Center.