Tired of apple picking and morally opposed to pumpkin patches? Welcome to our cranberry bog.
Founded in 1616 and then founded again in 2017, Giving Thanks Cranberry Bog is a family-owned and -operated bog. Located in the Midwest region of the Northeast, our bog offers an array of beloved bog-based activities for friends, bachelorette parties, and children of divorce.
Cranberry collection takes place daily from sunrise to sundown. But after 4 p.m., the bog is adults only, as the cranberries start to ferment. Thursday is Ladies’ Night. Sunday mornings, we’re closed to dredge the bog.
You must be vaccinated against hepatitis and leptospirosis. The rats use the bog as their bathroom. The city forced us to deal with our large predator problem, but we’re left with a surplus of rats. You want one?
No Band-Aids. No recent wounds or diarrhea. No history of broken bones. (Like dolphins, cranberries are sensitive to that sort of thing.) No visible moles. That has nothing to do with health codes; we just don’t like how they look.
Children must be supervised at all times, especially in the outer reaches of the bog, where the fog rolls in and the crawdads scream their lamentations. We’ve gotten reports of toddlers being swapped out for changelings on the marshy banks. We’d like to avoid another lawsuit.
The bog is approximately two to three feet deep at peak flood levels, except for the “bottomless pockets” that periodically open. It’s a totally natural occurrence in bogs: the sediments of the murky depths settle in ways that create temporary, perilous tunnels to the unknown. Watch your step.
Cash only. Admission is $127.50 for adults and $40 per child. Each ticket includes a custom T-shirt, a standard bog bucket for the cranberry collection, a canned vodka cran (imported), and for the kids, a homegrown taxidermied bog rat.
One bog bucket per customer. We will be checking your pockets to make sure you’re not smuggling out cranberries. We lose approximately three dollars per week to cranberry theft. It adds up.
Wear clothes you don’t mind getting destroyed. We recommend a hazmat suit, but a flannel and cargos will also do.
This isn’t cutesy little apple picking with charming paper bags and Instagram photos. This is cranberry bogging. It’s not for the weak or the weak-minded. If your name is Jennifer, Jessica, or Olivia, it’s better you don’t come.
No flash photography in the bog. It startles the bats. And we need the bats to eat the spiders.
Before entry, all visitors must complete a liability waiver, absolving us of any responsibility in the event of “accidental death by suction into bottomless bog pocket, infected bite from bog rat (or bat), or cranberry allergy.”
It’s like Deadliest Catch, but instead of giant crabs, it’s cranberries.
Not all who go return.
Don’t be scared. Get in the bog.
Glowing reviews of Giving Thanks Cranberry Bog include: “Great bog,” “Kids are speaking to me again after bog trip!” and “I think something followed me back from the bog. I keep seeing a faceless man reflected in mirrors and windows. I don’t think he wishes me harm, but I want him to return to the bog.”
Don’t play any songs by The Cranberries while in the bog. The delicate ecosystem is not compatible with alt-rock jangle pop post-punk.
Our cranberry bog will not fix your UTI. It will give you tetanus.
Don’t forget to rate us on Tripadvisor. We’re a “super fun” superfund site. Support your local bog.