A Better Kentuckian: Red River Gorge
Kentucky is a beautiful state.
Yes, we have our fair share of meth-heads who guzzle Mountain Dew and use their sleeve as a tissue. And yes we have an abundance of hillbillies who own more American flag shirts than they do teeth. But overall, Kentucky is pretty easy on the eyes.
And when it comes to rocks, we have some of the best.
I recently took a family trip to one of Kentucky’s crowned jewels, the Red River Gorge (RRG). Now I could ramble on about RRG’s soaring cliffs, majestic arches and the awe-inspiring sandstone Natural Bridge, but then I’d be writing about fancy rocks and that’s just not something I’m willing to do.
Instead, I’d like to share with you the greatest gem I saw all weekend. My little cousin Mark.
I’m no doctor, but it seems to me that Mark may be suffering from a permanent sugar high he contracted at an early age. He’s a character. Every single thing he does is original and authentic. Completely himself at all times, without hesitation or remorse and no matter who is watching.
He’s a young Michael Scott in the making. He’s sweet, charismatic, he tries hard, and his accidental racism comes from a place of love. His humor is often unintentional. If I could sum up Mark I’d do it the same way he would… in less than 250 words on a dating app profile.
On this trip, Mark was terrified and unnecessarily prepared to encounter a bear. He was adamant that we keep a buddy system while hiking. He wanted us to stay close so we can hear if someone “cries bear”. I can’t tell you how many times he told us to “make yourself big” if we see a bear.
It rained one day so we decided to skip the trails and go kayaking in a cave instead. We pulled up to the cave entrance and piled out of the car. Mark looked at me and said, “Wait, should I leave my weapons?”
“You have weapons?” I asked with immense concern… because well, imagine Michael Scott with weapons. He looked at me with an equal amount of concern and replied, “Bears, Shan. Bears.”
We got to the cave and started to gear up. Mark was having trouble strapping into his life jacket. His weapons were in the way. Rambo removed from his belt (made from tire treads) a giant knife that was more like a marching band baton with sharp edges, a switch blade, bear spray, and a vape pen… because fighting off bears can get stressful.
Kayaking through a cave was an amazing experience. It was dark, but we each had a headlight on our helmet. The guide had a light underneath his kayak to help direct us. It also illuminated the water enough to see the large fish swimming underneath us.
In typical tour guide fashion, the tour leader called for some group participation. He asked us all to scream as loud as we could. And in typical tour participant fashion, no one did it.
“Com’on guys. Just belt out whatever you want.” He begged us.
As soon as he uttered those words, I frantically whipped my headlight back and forth trying to find Mark in the crowd.
I knew there had to be something Mark was refraining from doing. It was too unique of an experience for his pistons to not be firing on all cylinders. And now he had a green light to release all that pent up energy.
What would he do? The anticipation was killing me. I felt like Bill Cosby waiting for the drink to kick in.
My headlight finally spotted Mark.
The guide continues, “On the count of three. One…”
Mark couldn’t wait. And echoing throughout the cave was this:
The cave erupted in laughter. I sat in my kayak with a full heart and huge smile. I love that little weirdo.
For more information on the Gorge Underground Kayak Tour visit: https://www.thrillsville.org/underground-kayak-adventure
