Bryan: “Do you want to go to White Rock tomorrow?”
Bryan: “White Rock.”
Me: “What’s that?”
Bryan: “A rock quarry full of water that you jump off of stuff into.”
Me: “Uhhh…? YEAH!”
Bright and early Sunday morning, Bryan, Joe, Tyler and I packed our sunscreen-slathered selves into Bryan’s car and headed east to St. Paul, IN. As with most adventures Bryan takes me on, I didn’t know what to expect. I thought we’d just go to some natural cliffs somewhere and jump a few feet into a little lake. Maybe there would be people there, maybe we would be the only ones.
Once in St. Paul, we drove through the teensiest, oldest town, (which probably has a larger population of garden gnomes than actual humans, based on my own observation), along a windy road, across a rickety one-lane bridge, and down a gravel path through the woods, until a man with a clipboard stopped us and told us to put the car in park.
We parked, and I followed the guys as they got out of the car and walked to a desk under a rusty tin roof, where we were required to sign safety waivers. The teenage girls behind the desk checked our IDs, tied scraps of yellow string around our wrists, and sent us on our way.
We got back in the car and drove a little further down the gravel path before parking in a lot next to a rocky beach volleyball court. It was then that I saw the quarry.
A zip line across the lake. Wooden platforms of various heights from which brave souls could dive. A rope swing. People floating on rafts, noodles, even air mattresses.
Men with ponytails. Women swimming with cigarettes in their mouths. Children screaming as their parents dazedly looked on. A man with his entire back covered in a giant “Pantera” tattoo.
I’d never seen anything quite like it. To be honest, I wholeheartedly believe that White Rock is the most redneck place on the face of the earth.
And it was delightful!
Bryan bought rafts from the high school girls under the tin roof, and he inflated them using the rattling generator/air pump thing tied to a pole next to a barn. He and I floated all over the lake while Tyler, Joe, and other friends dove off of rocks. We stayed there for hours, getting tan, dodging divers. Quite the experience.
For a clearer picture of White Rock, please watch the following promotional video. Then multiply the redneck factor by 1,000,000.