Recapturing Childhood At An Adventure Farm: An Autumn Frolic

Every fall something magical happens all over North America, adventure farms and pumpkin patches open their gates to children of all ages as Halloween draws near.

Having grown up in South Africa where autumn shows its face in April and Halloween was nothing but a foreign custom paraded on American television series, I had but a theoretical knowledge of the deliciousness of the season.

The two autumns I spent in the US were pleasant but limited in enjoyment. The first came shortly after I arrived and before I had made new friends. I was far too busy studying and getting my ducks in a row to truly benefit from the festivities that surrounded me.

The second was spent with a grumpy old woman who couldn’t find happiness even under the powerful magnitude of an electron microscope. Despite her phenomenal joy-sucking abilities, I insisted on visiting a pumpkin patch and carving my purchase in the typical Jack-o-lantern style, as well as dressing for Halloween.

Fast forward a couple of years and I found myself in Southern Ontario, sheltering in place as a global pandemic swept the globe. Everything shut down as we braced for the unknown.

As we moved into summer, restrictions lightened somewhat due to Canada’s relatively low infection rates. Restaurants and cafés slowly opened their doors, staggering their progress from outdoor to indoor dining and increasing capacity from 25 to 50%.

Easing into fall, cases increased as they are prone to do when the weather turns colder, but Halloween was looming and kids were antsy to have a little fun after hours of schooling behind screens in online classrooms.

As adventure farms and pumpkin patches are outdoor events, some locations opened their doors and fall frolic activities, allowing kids of all ages, everywhere, to breathe a sigh of relief.

I was one such kid.

Chronologically, I may have been forty-seven, but my inner child knew nothing of this technicality and her excitement was palpable.

I made friends with an American couple who had relocated to Canada just before the pandemic took hold. Virginia was a stay-at-home mom with two kids under five and finding life challenging. She was away from her family and friends and unable to make a circle of friends due to lockdown restrictions.

We hit it off like old friends from the day we met and on Friday nights, I wandered over to their place after work to visit. The kids were put to bed and the three of us spent a few hours talking, laughing, and sharing stories. We all needed the friendship.

Let the fall frolics begin!

Kusterman’s Adventure Farm was located just outside the city and Virginia and I were ready for some fun. We packed the kids into their booster seats and drove out into the countryside to play.

Arriving at the farm, we parked amongst trees in the late stages of displaying their beautiful colours. Leaves dropped around us as we made our way toward the entry gate, happy to be in nature and out of the houses that had held us prisoner for so long.

Activities requiring close contact between adults were not available, and although a power failure had also shut down a few of the kid’s games, we didn’t care. We were together and the kids were having fun.

We fed the sheep as they popped their heads through custom-made holes in their pen, cute little faces surrounded by images of robots, superheroes, lions, kangaroos, and even a washing machine. Slogans like “Super hungry,” “Beware of sheep,” and “Upload food immediately!” paired with the pictures adorning the wooden structure. Having bought some sheep pellets at the entrance, we giggled as eager lips grabbed their fill, munching down on the treats.

Saying goodbye to our new friends, we wandered over to the speedway. Go-karts awaited eager racers to pedal them furiously through a track edged by old tires. I jumped into one while waiting for my friend to precariously balance two kids on hers before we took off down the course. Laughing we raced each other around the track as I juggled my phone and she the children.

Still giddy from our adrenaline-fuelled racetrack dash, we took to calmer pursuits on a couple of fake horses as I attempted my best rodeo stance decked out in my cowboy boots. After a foray into the corn maze, we sat enjoying the crisp autumn day as my friend’s three-year-old daughter scaled and climbed the colourful buildings in the playground, calling to the new friends she made along the way.

We breathed in lungfuls of the fresh fall air, smiling as we watched the antics of happy children finally liberated from their cabin fever. My happiness overflowed as I basked in childhood activities I had never had.

We ended our visit by taking a tractor ride to the pumpkin patch and picking some of the bright orange gourds to take home and carve. Exhausted but exhilarated, we loaded the tired kids into the car and drove back to reality. Our day of abandon over.

Two years later, restrictions were a thing of the past and I planned a return to the adventure farm I remembered so fondly. This time, however, I had four Turkish friends in tow.

As we queued to pay our entry fees, I asked the cashier if people without children ever visited. Her answer was swift and definitive, “Hardly ever,” she said. “Well, now you do,” I replied with a wry smile. “One of our party is almost eight months’ pregnant so, technically, we do have a child with us, she’s just not on the outside yet.” The cashier laughed and stamped me through.

This time, everything was open and operating and we were going to try it all. Even the boys, who acted all tough as if they were humouring the girls, got into the spirit as they lost themselves in the fun.

Again, I fed the sheep and goats, played on the fake horses, and attempted to smoke my competition on the speedway juggling my GoPro this time, instead of my phone. The boys were in their element and it took us a while to tear them away from the go-karts.

We played on the swings, flew down the zipline — more than once and probably to the chagrin of the kids waiting their turn, and got lost in the corn maze. We manipulated games where balls were guided through strategically placed holes and pumped handles furiously to get a strong gush of water propelling rubber duckies down a pipe system as they raced to reach the finish line first. We shot corn husks from a canon in an attempt to hit abandoned cars in the distance with the boys taking this task very seriously, strategizing angles and trajectory.

As on my first visit, we ended our time by taking a tractor to the pumpkin patch to select the ones that we wanted to take home and carve. Two years prior, I had carved an homage to my kitty who had died earlier in the year, but this time I opted for a more traditional carving.

The youngest of us was twenty-seven, and at forty-nine, I was the oldest, but on that beautiful October day on the outskirts of London, Ontario, we were simply kids having fun. None of us were raised in the Halloween tradition, but all of us were delighted to get a chance to live it.

Whenever I feel a little down, I allow my mind to go back to those two days at Kusterman’s Adventure Farm in the Canadian fall. I hear the laughter, see the smiles, and feel the joy.

Please feel free to buy me a coffee if you like what you read.