Thus far this year, new theme park rides have let me toss turtle shells along Rainbow Road and steer a Lightcycle to victory on Tron’s Game Grid. But none of those high-tech experiences has delivered half the heart-pounding rush as Orlando’s newest attraction, which happens to be located inside its oldest attraction. If you’re yearning to get in touch with the great outdoors and aren’t afraid of heights, it’s time to get a grip with Gatorland’s latest three-in-one adventure, the Croc Rock.
In my mind’s eye, Gatorland remains the sleepy roadside attraction that it was when I arrived here back in the 1990s. So I’m always surprised when I visit and see how it’s expanded, from the half-day diversion of my memory into today’s expanse of zoological edutainment. But when I arrived for my tour of their latest offering before park opening on a recent weekday, I was frankly shocked to see the parking lot already jam-packed with cars and a long line of eager guests already queuing at the ticket booth.
As Gatorland park director Mike Hileman tells it, Walt Disney World’s unpopular park pass reservation system has proven an unintended boon for them: Every day guests arrive at the Magic Kingdom expecting to be able to simply buy a ticket, and end up at Gatorland’s gates instead after being turned away by Mickey.
The Mouse’s rejects may not encounter as many giant cartoon fauna at Gatorland, but they will find plenty of authentic Floridian wildlife, starting with the namesake reptilians, who still gather sizable crowds with their “Gator Jumparoo” feeding demonstrations. On the softer side, the park recently adopted a sibling pair of endangered Florida panther cubs — who now have their own waterfall to splash in — and welcomed three adorable newborn goats at its petting menagerie.
As we passed by these aww-inspiring exhibits my pulse began to accelerate as I spotted my destination, the Croc Rock: a towering monolith named for the V-snouted relatives of Gatorland’s stars. Standing 32 feet tall, the sculpted stone pillar is just the first phase of an intimidating three-part physical challenge, which also includes navigating across a 156-foot-long swaying bridge and flying down a 340-foot-long zip line. Those scary statistics were disclosed in the legal liability waiver I signed before being securely strapped into the snug, sling-like climbing harness that would serve as my lifeline throughout the journey.
With my palms chalked and carabiners clipped, I began my ascent of the Croc Rock, whose man-made sandstone surface offers a mix of both “natural” handholds and manufactured grips like you’d find in an indoor climbing gym, allowing participants to pick their own pathway to the top. Although I used to be an enthusiast in my youth, it’s been decades since I’ve done any serious rock climbing, and about two-thirds of the way up I began to rethink my choice to participate in the experience instead of simply observing the experts, like a smart journalist would. Fortunately for my ego, I managed to reach the summit, and although I ultimately lost my grip after lunging to tap the top, the auto-belay system safely lowered me back to terra firma with only a minor wedgie.
Powered by pure adrenaline, it turns out that I propelled myself up the Croc Rock in just over two minutes, instead of the 10 allotted. As such, I needed a moment or three to catch my breath before ascending the staircase of the neighboring tower for the start of my second challenge, the swaying bridge. Although not as physically demanding as the rock climb, traversing skinny planks wobbling several stories above rugged scrubland was certainly a test of my balance and nerve that brought to mind the ending of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.
For the grand finale, Croc Rock participants survive a speedy scenic glide above Gatorland’s watery bayou, with the strip mall across Orange Blossom Trail visible in the backdrop. This zip line ride doesn’t pass over the park’s alligator breeding marsh (as does their five-segment Screamin’ Gator Zip Line, which still operates) but you might glimpse some turtles and fish in the pond below. Personally, I was way too busy wildly woo-hooing during my 10-second slide to identify any animals along the way.
Gatorland’s 45-minute Croc Rock Adventure costs $45 (which includes admission to the rest of the park), and can be reserved online at gatorland.com. If you want to try it for yourself, you have to be at least 36 inches tall, weigh no more than 275 pounds, and wear pants or shorts and sneakers — because you can’t climb the Croc Rock if you’re wearing Crocs.
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This article appears in May 3-9, 2023.