I pulled off my boots, shaking ever-present grit from the toes, and stripped down until my only attire was a headlamp. "Now there's one for the fashion runways," I thought wryly. More aging adventurer than willowy Milan supermodel, I eased into the impossibly cool, aqua water and felt the floor quickly fall away. My buddy Neil followed behind. We stroked across the Olympic pool-sized lake, which at its center seemed to be 20 crystalline feet deep, maybe more. Ahead of us the water dove around a blind corner, reaching into who knows where. Or what. Then we saw it. Or rather, it chose to reveal itself to us. We were at the gates of an enchanted kingdom that no fairy tale could conjure. A broad avenue, splendidly decorated with pagoda towers and rich draperies, rose out of the lake in front of us. Exchanging wide-eyed glances, we stepped onto the promenade, passing lily pads and long ribbons rising from the lake on either side. The path terminated in a broad platform seemingly designed for royal audiences. We found ourselves in a magnificent ballroom, our shadows rippling distantly on its walls. We were in Lechuguilla cave, 800 steamy feet below the earth's surface in New Mexico. And we weren't turning back.