JUST A STONE MOUNTAIN'S THROW

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So last week we discussed my family’s visit to the Yellow River Game Ranch outside of Atlanta. In addition to our wildlife junket that weekend, we also spent a day at Stone Mountain Park.

My wife is from Stone Mountain, and when she was growing up, it was, essentially, an enormous mountain of stone. Sure, they had a gigantic carving on the side of the wall and a few other odds and ends, but they have seriously built it up since then, making it a place you spend the entire day with the family, seeing sights, learning history and assaulting each other with foam balls.

Yes, the biggest attraction for us was The Old Barn, a four-story monstrosity of slides, rope ladders and trampoline floors. But the coolest thing by far was the battery of fancy air guns that shot out foam balls from perches all around the barn.

When we first walked in, my kids were in awe as they saw thousands of foam balls strewn about the floor. My daughter began kicking through them, but was quickly distracted by a slide. It was next to a giant foam statue of a pig nursing six piglets. Just thought I’d share that.

My son continued to frolic in the balls, right up until the time someone from one of the higher floors started shooting them down near us. While these things couldn’t possibly hurt you, Parker decided that firmly clenched in his mother’s arm was a far safer place to be.

So at that point, my father-in-law, brother-in-law and I decided that we should go check out the entire facility. You know, to make sure that it was safe for kids.

When we got to the third floor, we noticed that there were three open guns, about 20-feet away from another bank of guns, these manned by three very menacing looking 5-year-olds. Immediately, the little vermin began firing at us. We realized this was immature behavior, and behaved in the only fitting manner, which was to assume our positions and begin firing back with at them with a fervor the likes of which they have never seen in their 5K class.

After a few minutes, the little ambushers had enough, and their mothers began to try and help them load the gun and aim. Well, that was a mistake, because that just gave us more targets to aim at. In short order, they left, and three grown men strode away proud victors, having vanquished three little kids and their mommies.

When we got back to the bottom floor, Allie was still sliding and Parker was still clutching. Our wives, meanwhile, were suggesting that, perhaps, next time, we shoot at each other. They just don’t understand. After The Old Barn, we went to The Treehouse, which was another gigantic collection of slides, games, swings and the like. The Treehouse was divided into a boys’ side and a girls’ side, which presented a bit of a problem when I was tapped to take my daughter in. I am woman, hear me roar.

One of the highlights there was when my daughter decided that we would both go down the giant slides. They had two of these big tube slides that circled in between each other. We both popped down the slide at the same time, and I found out that a 31-year-old can build up far more speed than a 3-year-old. I nearly launched myself back to The Old Barn.

After The Old Barn and The Treehouse, we decided we’d take a train ride around the park and see the sights. The one thing I began to notice is that the good folks of Stone Mountain, while fond of remembering history, hold a special grudge for one General Sherman. And while I am knowledgeable of Sherman’s march to the sea, the staff of Stone   Mountain makes sure you remember. “And to your right you will see where granite was extracted for decades. Had these granite workers been here in the 1860s, they would have been torched by General Sherman. On that hill you can see where hikers begin their trek up the mountain, a mountain that would have been burned had Sherman figured out how to light granite. And that concludes our tour, as you leave the train, please stop at one of our fine dining establishments. Enjoy the chicken, fried, just how

Sherman fried Atlanta. Or perhaps have some bread, which can be easily torn apart, the way Sherman tore apart churches and hospitals during his march to the sea.”

We hit a few more stops during the day, including a petting zoo where I found that petting zoo employees do not find it funny to request a goat saddle for your son. It was a good day, although at the end of it we were both worn out and sunburned. Much the way Sherman burned Atlanta.