Last Tuesday my family and I experienced the most fun day we’ve had in a long time when we went to The Climb Adventure Lagoon, http://www.survivetheclimb.com/, in Russellville, about 40 miles east of here. I happened to stumble upon its website while looking for climbing opportunities for my grandson, Bobby, who’s always had a passion for it. Gauging by the photos, it looked to be a lot of fun even though it wasn’t the rock-climbing experience I was originally looking for. Nevertheless, that’s where we decided to celebrate his 11th birthday.
No one I asked had ever heard of the Climb, so I depended on the website and Trip Advisor reviews for information. Words like ‘old-fashioned swimming hole’ and ‘quarry’ jumped out at me and made me think back to when I was about 9 and the quarry near my house where my cousins and I often played. That was such a fun time in my life, and I think I was the most excited one about going. As for the others, they didn’t know what to expect.
It took two vehicles to transport all the stuff we thought we (three adults and four kids) might need for the day: food, drink, towels, floats, foam noodles, lawn chairs, canopy. Our daughter had the four kids, ages 9-11, and we had everything else.
As we turned into the entrance, I immediately thought of my 9-year-old granddaughter and chuckled…first impressions of public places mean everything to her and will either seal the deal or break it. Her first experience of public transportation (the tour bus at Mammoth Cave National Park) was not a pleasant one because “she didn’t know any of those people.” So now she says she’ll never ride a bus ever again. I laughed when I thought of what must have gone through her mind when all she could see was a wide open, rocky expanse leading to who-knows-what? After all, “adventure” was part of its name.
A check-in shack stood alone in an enormous parking lot, as though it were an oasis in the desert. We paid the admission fee of $20 each for everyone older than 10, and signed waivers if they hadn’t already been signed online. Once those formalities were taken care of, we were given paid-admission bracelets and the lowdown of what to expect once we drove to the quarry.
It turned out that there is so much to do here that it’s hard to take it all in initially because everything is literally right there. The quarry is that big. Swimming, zip-lining, waterslide, paddle boards, kayaking (life jackets provided), fishing, walking the suspension line crossing the quarry, just floating in the water. No frills at all, no lifeguards, and not many rules. (No facilities either–well, there is the dilapidated trailer, aka “The Clubhouse,” in which there’s a toilet–but remember, this is a quarry. You’ve been warned.)
I took a lot more videos than photos, simply because there was so much activity and memories to record! There wasn’t a whole lot of sitting and relaxing. Since there weren’t that many people this midweek afternoon, and we had much of the place to ourselves. Though I wish we had thought to bring old tennis shoes to make walking the rocky paths from one activity to another easier, carefully taking one step at a time eventually got everyone to wherever they wanted to go. After more than six hours of fun in the sun, everyone was exhausted and ready to go home, but already talking about “next time.”
Finding this western Kentucky gem was an eye opener for all of us. Bobby said it was the best birthday party ever. Ever?! That says a lot. My daughter commented that it was the most redneck thing she’d ever done, and that she’d had a blast. For me, it was the no-frills, simple, old-fashioned summer kind of fun. Three generations having fun together. I’d say it was a perfect day.