Fox and Squirrel Pt. 6

Part 6: Positively Drenched
We found ourselves speeding down the tunnel, water splashing around us. The lenses of my glasses were splattered, so I could not see, and all I could hear was the roaring of the water. Acacia and I screamed in delight. The turns and dips were sharp and sudden, and I had no idea when we'd end up dumped in the basin of the Mega Wedgie, or what would happen once we were in there.
Then, with a splash (I warn you now, this word and all it's variants are going to show up a lot during this chapter), we shot out into the large basin, which is shaped a lot like a bundt cake pan. The current spun us around this bundt basin once, then twice, and then a third time. This surprised me, because I had expected only one revolution. I was even more surprised when we got stuck during our third trip around! The current had washed us up onto a spot where there wasn't any water, close to the center. We were stuck on this dry patch, the water roaring around us. We frantically tried to push ourselves back into the current, I was feeling mildly panicked. We pushed our legs against the sides of the basin, and with some force, freed ourselves. We were the current once more, rushing towards the basin's exit. We landed in the pool with a great splash, let ourselves float for a moment, then rolled off the inner tube and waded out of the three foot deep pool to hand our inner tube to the next person in line one. I wrung the excess water out my bathing suit and we went to see what else we could go on.

We had only just whet (pardon the pun) our appetite for water rides, and were eager for more soggy thrills. We decided to ride Captain Hook's River Adventure, the same lazy river ride I discussed in another memoir. It's always been a favorite of mine, and I was surprised to see some of the changes it had undergone, not to the ride itself, but in the way people were using it. Instead of just floating down it on inner tubes, bathers were now swimming in it, alongside those using the tubes. Acacia and I decided to wait for an inner tube however, and got in line.

It was a pretty long wait, but it was bearable, since we were still wet from the Mega Wedgie. It also helped that as we got closer to our turn, we could wade in the man-made river, the water lapping over our ankles. When we waded deeper, it lapped at our knees. We talked to other bathers very cordially ( for there is nothing like an awkward, polite conversation with a stranger you'll never see again) and watched people get on their inner tubes, and if they had little kids, rest them in their laps. When it was our turn we were handed our vinyl rings of joy, and tried to climb on them. It was almost impossible, because they slip out from under you, the stubborn little bastards. I eventually asked a gentleman to hold mine down, which he kindly did. I settled awkwardly onto the thing, and let the current take me. Acacia, had no such luck climbing onto her tube, so she climbed through it, and kind of walked/paddled using the tube for support.

 This ride is wonderful, you just bob along, utterly relaxed, going where the current takes you. We passed under the bridge, but I don't think I got splashed by it's little waterfall. We talked to each other, and to the people around floating around us.
At one point, we were nearing that dreadful pipe that pours gallons of water onto unsuspecting floaters. One man nearby said "I don't want do go under that,". Just as he said it, I happened to be the unlucky fucker to get stuck under that aquatic torture device. It's hell being under a fountain or a spouting pipe, it feels like you're under that rushing water for an eternity. You can't see anything at all; you can only hear the loudness of the water pounding against you and your inner tube, and of course, that shit is freezing. After a few moments it was over. I was not hurt nor missing any jewelry, just soggy, so very soggy. Positively drenched in fact. The man who had not wanted to go under the gushing pipe laughed in a good-natured manner, and thanked me for going under it for him. I do not remember my retort, but it was probably a mixture of sarcasm and good cheer.

We passed a swimming pool attached to the river. Well, this was new. People were lounging by it, wading in it, and when they so desired, they would walk down some underwater steps into the lazy river. A lot of these swimmers were kids, who were eager to show Acacia and I that they could swim underwater and that they could swim like dolphins.
The ride came full circle eventually, and we found ourselves back where we started. Not wanting my pleasure to end, I asked the lifeguard how many times we could go around.
"Once" She said rather sternly.
Once?! Only once? You used to be able to go around twice. I don't know why they decided to change it; probably because the lines were getting too long. Disappointed, I dismounted from my inner tube, and handed it to the next rider. Then Acacia and I waded out of the water.
We then decided to go on the most epic water slide the Great Escape had to offer. It's called the Tornado, and it is a water slide that shoots you out into a huge funnel; once you're in that funnel, you're sliding up it's sides, thrown around at the mercy of the soggy elements. Then, after you lose momentum, you slide out the funnel into a pool.

I was a little nervous about riding it, because of how high the walls of the funnel were. But we gathered up our towels, and Acacia's sandals (I had opted to go barefoot) and went to get in line. It was a rather long line, and it would be a bit of a wait, but we were properly drenched and cooled off. So it wasn't torture, like the lines in the rest of the park are.
The line for The Tornado worked the same way the line for the Mega Wedgie did. There was Line 1, where you waited for a four person inner tube, which was shaped like a four leaf clover. In Line 2, you waited for your turn to go down the slide.
As we waited, we watched people walk past us with their inner tubes, most of them gaggles of teenage boys in surf shorts or skinny teenage girls in their dainty string bikinis. I couldn't help but feel fat and unattractive in my voluminous swimsuit which could barely contain my equally voluminous chest.

As we got further up in line, we watched people come shooting out of the mouth of the slide, shouting with joy and amusement. Some people had expressions that displayed only surprise and shock, as if the slide had been too intense for them. But it seemed most people enjoyed The Tornado.
After the long wait in the first line, we received our gargantuan inner tube. It was, despite being feather light, a very awkward thing, easily carried by four or even three riders, but not by two and certainly not one. To add to the discomfort of carrying our awkward inner tube, the walk from line 1 to line 2 happened to be a little bit long and quite impractical. We struggled with our clover tube, trying to keep it off the ground, not only to keep the concrete from popping the tube, but because the scraping of vinyl on concrete is an irritating noise.

So we waddled across the pavement with our tube, past crowds of bathers. We struggled up the wooden stairs to the second line. At the top of the stairs was a wooden bridge, that stretched across the great funnel that gave The Tornado its name. People were blocking up this bridge; they weren't even in line. They were just standing there, basking in the spray coming off the slide, and watching the riders slide up the sides of the funnel. Now that I think about it, I wonder if these people weren't just random bystanders, but were there waiting for their friends to go down the slide, either because they themselves had already ridden, or because they were not riding at all. This impromptu audience consisted mostly of middle-aged housewives and small kids, so I'm guessing the latter.

We navigated past the small crowd of people on the water slick bridge, and continued up more stairs to find ourselves in Line Two. We were very high up, more than 20 feet, able to oversee the entire water park and even some of the regular park. I felt a little bit dizzy and a little uneasy being up there, but what could I do? I wanted to go on this slide and there was, as usual, no turning back...

The Great Escape pt 5

I really have to finish this memoir, I've been paying too much attention to the other. Try to keep up!

Part 5: I Was Sternly Told Not to Yodel
Even though my aunt was hurt, she still took me to the lockers so I could change into my street clothes. Then, while she visited the infirmary, my Uncle Russell took me on some rides. I don't remember all the rides he took me on, nor do I remember the chronological order I went on these rides. This was ten years ago, after all; I cannot be expected to remember everything. . My memory of this trip is very shaky, and while I can tell you what I rode, I can not tell you when I rode it or in what order. It's very frustrating that I can not tell you this story in chronological order, but I suppose it is not very important.

I do remember my uncle taking me on a miniature ferris wheel, where the gondolas are shaped like yellow, red and aqua air balloons. It was kind of boring, I don't remember enjoying it. I also found myself on The Flying Elephants, a kiddie ride where you sit in a bad rip-off of Dumbo and go around in a circle, while you use a joy stick to make yourself move up and down in the air. It was pretty boring, and I kept my hand on the joy stick's little button, so I stayed up in the air for the entire ride. I hadn't even thought of making my elephant move up and down.

I was desperate to go on rides, it had become an obsession. I wanted to experience everything I could. So I flitted from ride to ride in the Fest Area, which was how I ended up on those damn elephants and few other baby rides. Some rides, I found I was too big to go on, such the Motorcycle Carousel or the Flying Dragons.
One of the other kiddies rides I had gotten on in my desperation was a tractor trailer themed ride called The Convoy. It consisted of miniature tractor trailers that slowly moved around a slightly curvy track. The tricks seat two people. One person sits inside the truck, while another person can sit on a little seat situated on top; each seat has a little steering wheel, so you can pretend you're really driving a freight truck. When it was my turn to get on, the woman operating the ride asked me if I wanted to sit inside one of the little trucks. I told her no, I would sit on one of the upper seats. I must have figured that it was bad enough that I was riding this idiotic thing, why further compromise my dignity and self-respect? Also, it looked like I would be too tall to sit inside, sitting on top of the mock tractor trailer was a sound decision.
The ride was boring. It was so boring, that I actually remember how dull it was. I tried to pass the time I was wasting on this ride by pretending I was really a trucker. It helped a little, but not much.

At one point, I also rode the Bumper Cars. While in line, I made a tit of myself trying to talk to some boys close to my age. I fumbled my words, and they laughed at me. Later, when I was out on the floor, they bumped me mercilessly with their cars, still laughing. I had trouble steering, and trouble braking the stupid car and if I recall correctly, the damn thing eventually broke down! My initiation into the bumper cars did not go well, and as a result, I rarely ride them. I find that people get too aggressive during this ride. Also, when you do get hit by another car, it does hurt. On one hand, they can be a lot of fun, but on the other hand, they can be very unpleasant.

The best ride I went on during this trip was The Himalaya. If I've got my history right, Himalayas were invented sometime in the late 19th to early 20th centuries. A train of cars speeds around on a bumpy track, and the breeze this produces cooled off riders in the summer months. Because of this, it was named after the cold winds of the Himalaya mountains.
The Himalaya ride at The Great Escape is called the Cannonball Express. It has some kind of swinging 60's-70's theme, with large pop art flowers, and figures of go go dancers and funky fresh dudes. It's colorful, alive with purples, sky blues, goldenrod yellows and aqua greens. Every time I go to the Great Escape, I ride it, except for once, when I went with Families First. During that trip I only went on two rides because the chaperon took us home early. She did not know how to handle my panic attacks and thought I had been misbehaving.

My uncle and I got in one of the cars, my uncle sitting on the outside, for he was taller. We buckled in, then pulled the lap bar down. The ride was fast and exciting, and music played the entire time, adding to the experience. I slid around in the vinyl-covered long seat, bumping into my uncle. I gripped the bar, straining my muscles from trying to keep from sliding around too much. I was having so much fun!
The ride slowed down after a few minutes. I assumed it was over, until it started moving again, only backwards. This was even more fun than going forwards, it was the best part of the ride. Sadly, they stopped making it go backwards a few years ago. I was very disappointed when I learned this. I never found out why made this decision either, but I think I shall ask someone, someday.

Eventually, the party re-grouped and the it was decided that we would ride The Comet. The Comet is a wooden roller coaster. In another memoir, I discussed riding it's doppelganger at Hershey Park, another wooden coaster of the same name, and an identical track.
My first ride on a wooden roller coaster was traumatizing. It was fast, rickety and the heights were terrifying. I love that coaster now, but as I kid I was terrified.
After that, we rode the Pirate Ship. Ship rides come in different themes, Viking, Pirate, even Nile themes tend to pop up. At The Great Escape, theirs is a pirate ship. Like most rides, I used to really hate this one, but now it's a favorite. As an adult, they're not as scary as they used to be for me.
My uncle led me to sit in the way back, the best part to sit. In fact, whenever you're in line for The Pirate Ship, it's a rule that the first place to get filled up is the back, because everybody wants to sit there. You can hope you'll get a back seat, but the fact is, the skanky teenage girls in front of you will sit there, forcing you to sit in the second to last row or even further up, near the mast.
But we were lucky enough to get the coveted back seat and I was especially lucky to get it on my maiden voyage (forgive the pun). We sat down and lowered the lap bar.

"When the ride is in the air, lean forward," My uncle told me. Being young and impressionable, I would do as he said, not even wondering why he had asked such a thing of me.
The ride started, swinging back and forth, simulating a ship tossing in the waves. When the side of the ride my uncle and I were sitting was up in the air, I did as my uncle said, and leaned forward, my bottom lifting off the hard plastic seat. I was already frightened by being so high up in the air and leaning forward added to my fear, for it caused a strange weightless feeling. I screamed, and never leaned forward again.

Afterwards, my sister went on more water rides, but I did not, instead my Aunt took me back to the fest area so I could go on more rides, It was during this time that I rode a few of the rides I described earlier, including The Convoy and The Elephants. At one point, I tried to convince my aunt that I wanted to go on the Rotor, a ride that spun so fast, you stuck to the walls while the floor dropped out from under you. She let me get in line, but when she warned me how sick it would make me I changed my mind. I also tried to get in line for a strange looking kiddie ride that consisted of an oval track and little cars shaped like mice. Unfortunately, it must have been closed down for some time, because there wasn't anyone else waiting in line or even a park employee to operate it. But I didn't realize that. I stood there, waiting, completely oblivious to the concept of the ride being closed. After all, there wasn't a sign indicating that this was so. Eventually, I shuffled off to find something else. Instead, I got to ride The Swings, which at the Great Escape they call The Flying Trapeze. I had always wanted to ride one of these, ever since I had watched my sisters ride it at the fair when I was four, and I could not, because of my size. But now six years later I was tall enough. So I got in one of the metal swings, dangling from long chains, pulled the bar down over my lap and clipped the safety chains together. My Aunt did not get on with me, but sat on a low wall nearby and watched.
I enjoyed the ride, while those swings spun around, quick as you please. It was kind of high up, yet I was not afraid, for the ride was gentler than a Pirate Ship or a Roller Coaster. I looked down at my aunt, and waved at her, which I imagine a lot of kids do when the adults with them let them ride by themselves. She waved back and I smiled. When I got off the ride, I gushed about not being afraid.

Like I mentioned repeatedly, I do not remember the chronological order I went on the rides, I really don't. I'm probably getting this all wrong, I could have gone on the swings before I rode the Comet or after I rode the Alpine Bobsled. Wait, I haven't mentioned the Alpine Bobsled? I should probably cover that, shouldn't I?

I don't remember at which point I rode the Alpine Bobsled. The Bobsled is a roller coaster, which instead of rolling on traditional tracks, goes down a chute, just like real bobsledding. It's actually really dangerous for a roller coaster, and a woman died when it went off the 'track'. But as a kid, I did not know that. I only knew that it was a long line. While we waited, my Aunt Amy brushed my hair, as it had gotten tangled. She mentioned that I had split ends. Curious, I asked her what that meant as she braided my hair. She told me it meant the ends of my hair was splitting in two.

The bobsled cars have the flags of different countries on them, keeping up with the Olympic theme. There was America, Switzerland, Italy, Germany, France, England and to my amusement, Jamaica. Those are the only ones I remember. We got Switzerland, and I was sternly told not to yodel.
The ride goes pretty fast, and you get knocked around pretty easy from all the jolts and sharp, swooping turns, but I liked it because it wasn't as high up as the other roller coasters. I also ignored the warning about yodeling, and gave some pitiful attempts at the vocal art, though my Aunt Amy would later claim I was a very good yodeler, in the way that adults tell you you're good at something, when you're really not. When you were a kid, did you ever try something, and know that you fucked up, yet your parents or teachers or relatives still told you you were good?

Soon enough the day had begun to wind down. We had a few rides left to go on, and then we would leave. But to hear about that, dear reader, you will have to wait until the next and final installment of this memoir.

Fox and Squirrel Pt. 5

Dearest reader, I hope you're keeping up, and I hope you're reading everything in order. If you're reading this at all.

Part 5: Blessed Relief
As I mentioned earlier, Acacia had left her bathing suit in the car. So before we could have our soggy romp in the water park, we had to make the long, hot trek out to the parking lot, where we were inconveniently parked way in the back of that dreaded asphalt ocean. Naturally, I had some complaints, some of which I vocalized, some of which I kept to myself. Mainly, I bitched about the heat, and the proximity of our car.
So we made out way out of Storytown and into the International Village where the entrances and exits of the park were located. I just wanted to get this over with, I was slowly roasting inside my own clothes, and my feet had already begun to ache. At the exit, we had our hands stamped so we could reenter the park. The old guy manning the exit flirted with us shamelessly.

You have to exit the Great Escape through their Gift Shop, there is no other way. This is some excellent planning on their part, because as you're leaving, you're exposed to their merchandise. How can you resist some of the fine souvenirs they're offering you? Drinking mugs, apparel, shot glasses and magnets all emblazoned with the Great Escape logo. Stuffed toys, jewelry, and candy. Puppets and sodas. Sundry items line racks and shelves. Anything you can think of will be there. How can you resist? Aren't your pockets just burning to be emptied?
But I did not feel any burning in our pockets, I was too busy concentrating on the sweet coolness of the air conditioning. Compared to the thick heat outside, the air in here seemed thinner and cleaner. It was a blessed relief, like diving into cold water or stepping into a freezer. We walked through the gift shop slowly, taking in the sensation of the crisp, cool air wrapping around us. I knew that once we left the gift shop we'd be back in the thick, soupy heat, and that the heat would feel much worse after having been exposed to air-conditioning. But I tried not to think about it, and concentrated on enjoying as much of the cold air as I could.

When we exited the gift shop the heat fell on us like a heavy quilt. It was pretty bad; in fact, it was downright terrible. The air felt suffocating and dense, thick and almost tangible. We trudged back to the car, cursing the heat. It seemed to take forever, it always does in this sort of humidity, but eventually we made it to the car. Acacia grabbed her suit, and then grabbed some juice pouches from our cooler for us to drink. We had left our cooler in the car, because The Great Escape doesn't allow guests to bring in outside food into the park. This forces patrons to either leave and have tailgate picnics in the parking lot, (which I have done in the past) or buy food inside the park. Most people would rather do the latter than have to drag their kids outside the park and listen to them whine about not wanting to leave. This senseless rule about outside food was probably made in an effort to get more money out of park guests.
The juice pouches were mostly frozen, thanks to my mother sticking them in the freezer a few days before. But we sucked out what juice we could, relishing the cold sweetness. Then, we walked back to the park, ripping the pouches open to scoop out the slush, chewing on them to force out the cold icy goodness inside. It was still hot, and people were staring at us, but it helped us feel a little better. We got most of the punch flavored slush out and into our mouths by the time we made it to the gates. Then, we threw them out (no outside food, remember?), flashed our stamped hands at the gate people, and reentered the park without a fuss.
But it was a long trek to Splashwater Kingdom. Consulting our maps, we walked through Storytown, and the Fest Area. In the Fest area, we found lockers to rent, but you could only rent them with an ATM like computer, a feature they did not have the last time I went to The Great Escape. People were swarming around these computers, complete pandemonium all around. My panic levels rose dramatically, and I had my one and only freak out of the day, as we attempted to rent a locker via computer. It seemed too complicated, what had happened to the old way of renting lockers? There were other lockers, inside Splashwater Kingdom, couldn't we try those? I begged Acacia if we could try the lockers inside Splashwater Kingdom instead.
Acacia relented, and we walked into Splashwater Kingdom. It seemed sunnier in this part of the park, and everywhere, people cavorted, the children in Noah's Sprayground, the skinny teenage girls clad in neon bikinis, the matrons in practical one-pieces. Even consumerism dwelt here, for there were inner tube rentals, and kiosks to buy ice cream and drinks. There was a little pizza restaurant and even a place to buy bathing suits, goggles and sunscreen.

In the large cement building with lockers an changing stalls, we found a table where actual employees were renting lockers. We rented a small one for eleven dollars, and went to put our stuff in it. But it wouldn't open. We stood there, trying to get it open, frustrated. Then it turned out we hadn't been given a special bracelet to open it! I felt so silly! The employees strapped the hot pink bracelet, similar to the type you wear in a hospital, around my skinny wrist. Then, I ran my wrist over some kind of digital strip on the locker, and the metal door popped open. I took out my bathing suit, shoved my backpack and towel in, and then we went to change into our suits.

My bathing suit is a one-piece, in the 'bathing dress' style, meaning it looks like a minidress as opposed to a suit. It's the kind of swimsuit chubby girls like me wear to hide our pudgy tummies and plump thighs, patterned in a motley of indigo, white, teal and iguana green prints and hues, with dapples of metallic copper thrown in. While it fits me fine in the hips, it's still too tight in the chest. No matter what suit I wear, it will always be too tight in the chest, because with an H cup, you'll always be too big for bathing suits unless you have them custom made. But if I maneuver my breasts just right, the suit fits just fine, and I still look halfway decent (though I'm sure some would say otherwise). Acacia changed into her red and white bathing suit top, but I didn't see her put on her bottoms, she still had her shorts on. At first I thought she had left them on out of modesty, but I later found out that she had dropped her scarlet bathing suit bottoms in the parking lot. Changed and ready, I shoved our clothes into the diminutive locker. There wasn't any room for Acacia's bag, so she stored her valuables in the locker and left her bag on top of the lockers. Then we headed outside into the hot sunshine.

We barely knew where to start, there were so many things to do. There were two slides I had never seen before, and rides that had been there for as long as I could remember. Most of the slides at the Great Escape, such as the Black Cobra, I have never been on. I've just never had the chance to ride them and I didn't ride them either this time. The lines were simply too long. I did ride the new slides, however. Next time I go, I vow to ride all the water slides, even if I end up spending all day in the water park.
We decided that the first water ride we'd go on would be the Mega Wedgie. It's a purple and turquoise water slide that sends riders spinning into a giant basin, before being dropped into a pool. It looked like fun, so we got in line.

Technically there are two lines; in the first line, you wait for an inner tube. The Mega Wedgie had a limited supply of figure eight shaped water tubes that can seat one or two riders. This line was at the bottom of the slide, by the pool, so that when someone finished the ride, they could pass off their inner tube to whoever was next in the inner tube line. Once you get your inner tube, you get in the second line, where you climb a set of stairs to the top of the water slide. It's all a neat little system. Of course, I imagine that by renting an inner tube, you could probably bypass this system all together.

Acacia and I waited for our inner tube patiently. It was much cooler in the water park, possibly a psychosomatic effect caused by the sight and sound of the water. Or it maybe it's not all in your head, maybe it really is just cooler being near the water, for scientific reasons that I probably learned in high school and promptly forgot. Pop music blasted from speakers situated about the park. We watched people jettison out of the bottom of the slide and hit the water with a splash, often accompanied with joyous screams. Now that I think about it, this water slide reminds me a lot of the digestive system. You enter the mouth of the slide, slid down an esophagus, into the stomach-like basin, down the intestine and out the bottom opening of the slide, into a pool. Actually, wouldn't that be a cool theme for a water ride? How about a human body themed amusement park in general?

Eventually it was our turn to receive an inner tube. I stepped into the pool, relishing the cool chlorinated water lapping at my ankles, to collect our tube from it's previous user. Now that I think about it, this too reminds me of The Dress Lodger, and Gustine in her pretty blue dress being passed from man to man like our inner tube. Maybe I need to put that book down.
We carried the pale blue figure-eight to the second line. Despite it's light weight, it was very awkward to carry because of it's size. But we managed to get it to the second line, and climb up the wooden steps.. Also, As we waited, we discussed Hetalia, and played with our inner tube by popping in and out of the holes in the middle. Acacia called it a donut, then we briefly discussed cartoons with the kids in front of us.

As we got closer to the mouth of the slide, we began to discuss who would sit where. Should I sit in the front? Or should Acacia? Acacia designated herself to the back seat, whereas I could take the front.
It was our turn at last; the lifeguard gave us instructions and we lay our inner tube in front of the slide. We asked the lifeguard to hold it for us while we settled into it, afraid the rushing water of the slide would carry our tube away, without us on it. So she kindly obliged, holding down our tube while we awkwardly settled into it. Cold water tickled my back and ass, the sound of the water filled my ears. I looked down the precipice of the slide, into the darkness below, the only light coming in was from the sun filtering through the seams of the slide. Then, Acacia and I pushed forward, and plunged down the throat of the Mega Wedgie...

Fox and Squirrel Pt. 4

If you're wondering what the title of this memoir refers to, allow me to enlighten you. The fox is Acacia's totem animal, and the squirrel is mine. I call her 'Foxy' now and again, and my Abenaki name is Mikoa, which means squirrel. Now, on to the story...

Part 4: Slightly Queasy and Frazzled
We survived The Sasquatch, quite impressed with ourselves for having the balls to ride the very thing we were afraid of. Acacia's reasoning had made sense. It was better get it over with right away, than put it off and give ourselves time to change our minds. We rode what we were afraid of the most, and started our day with a bang.

We briefly debated what to ride next, and somehow it was decided that we would ride The Boomerang Coast to Coast roller coaster. At this point in my life, I'd only ridden this coaster twice, once when I was ten, and again when I was twelve. Both experiences had been rather traumatizing for me, and as a result, my opinion of the ride had been a low one for many years, bolstered by the fact that a kid had become paralyzed after falling out of the ride. But now I realized, that if I could ride The Sasquatch and survive, then I could ride The Boomerang.
But before I rode anything else, I desperately needed to use a bathroom. So we wandered around Storytown, looking for a bathroom to use. We may even have wandered into the Fest Area (which looks like a classic carnival). As we searched, I took in the familiar sights, noticing that even with the new rides, the park looked very much the same as it ever was. Storytown was still very pretty, if not a little careworn. I also noticed that food and games were ridiculously expensive, much to my disgust.

After finding and using a bathroom (I'm sure you don't want to hear the details about that), we made our way back to the Boomerang. It was dreadfully hot, and terribly uncomfortable, but thankfully not as crowded as I'd thought it would be. While we walked, I noticed the Cinderella Coach ride. Standing in front of it, was Cinderella herself, trapped in her pretty blue gown. I think it was a prom dress, in a bright shade of blue, a hybrid of cyan and aqua. In hindsight, all this reminds me a lot of the book called The Dress Lodger, whose main character, named Gustine, is a potter's assistant by day, and a prostitute by night, decked out in a splendid blue gown provided by her landlord. Gustine spends her nights, exposed to inclement weather for hours at a time, waiting for customers to come and use her. Is the park employee not similar, in her beautiful blue gown, having to stand for hours in sweltering heat, waiting for park guests to come over and marvel at her beauty and ride in her coach? Boldly, I asked her if it was terribly hot in that gown, if surely she was not in some discomfort.

She stayed in character the whole time, replying in a sweet voice that it wasn't that bad (more acting I wonder?). We struck up a conversation with her, the girl never faltering in her smile and her princess voice, as we discussed the new ride, which she had heard you could view Lake George from if you sat just right. Yes, she is like Gustine, in a way. She must never show her discomfort or displeasure in her position. Being the Great Escape Cinderella can't be that bad can it now? You get to dress up, you look pretty and you certainly don't have to clean vomit. But unlike Gustine, I don't think she has to have sex with nameless, faceless men every night. I may have mentioned this before, I may even have mentioned it to Acacia that day, that throughout the years while the park Cinderella may change- be a different girl, in a different dress (though it's always a blue one), with different glass slippers, she is essentially the same girl. The park always casts a girl with light colored hair, either a light brown or a blond. Her eyes are probably light as well, and she is usually thin.

After leaving Cinderella, we finally made it to the Boomerang. When I first rode it ten years ago, it had been painted teal, a soothing color that was slowly fading with time. Someone must have decided that this blue-green hue belied the fierceness of the ride, for now it was painted red and yellow. Shiny and new. It looked much better. The Boomerang, as far as coasters go, is pretty small, but its power lies in the fact that it goes backwards and forwards, the origin of its name. It drags you backwards up a steep slope, launches you downhill, and then you go through some loops and twists. Then you're dragged up another slope, parallel to the first and then you repeat the ride in reverse.

The line was not as long as it could have been, but it was still a bitch to wait in. It was hot, as I mentioned, so hot that my denim Capris were sticking to my body. I was starting to feel fussy, the way a small child would feel. Acacia, bless her sweet soul, put her arms around me and spoke soothingly to me. She told me we would go to the water park after the Boomerang, which sounded really really good. The only catch, was that she left her bathing suit in the car and we would have to go back and get it. When I started to fret about that, she began to soothe me all over again. She is really very good at that, soothing me when I panic.

Whenever I'm in line for something, I people watch. It is a habit of mine. I noticed the women behind us were incredibly dressed up for an amusement park.Wearing nice clothes, makeup, gold jewelry and painful looking sandals. I don't get it, why do you need to be so dressed up for The Great Escape? Sure, I had earrings on and some nifty accessories, but I was wearing comfy clothes and sneakers and no makeup. I'm on my feet all day, and the makeup will just get washed off in the water park. I stared at their feet, wondering how they could walk around in dressy sandals all day. Practice, probably.

Soon enough it was our turn to get on the roller coaster. We put our glasses in our bags, and got in a car somewhere in the middle of the train. We pulled the shoulder restraints down, and I made sure that mine was pushed down as tightly as it could go; I wasn't taking any chances. I was incredibly nervous, more than nervous, downright terrified. But there was no turning back, I would not chicken out.
The cars began to move up the hill slowly. I tried to remain calm, but soon found my panic setting in. To keep myself calm, I began to sing to myself, an old Pagan song my mother had sung to me as a child. I wondered if it made the people behind me uncomfortable.

The cars had stopped moving, and we were now in that terrible pause right before the roller coaster drops. I was terrified. I felt dizzy, and because of the angle of the slope, I felt like I was slipping out of my seat. This was the worst part, being stuck high in the air, at the very top of the hill, not moving, choking on my fear. It was hot up there, and my vision was blurry without my glasses. I felt utterly helpless.

Finally the coaster dropped, speeding down the hill. My stomach dropped to my knees, and I screamed in fear and exhilaration. The cars rushed past the operating station, and went through one of the twists, turning us upside down. Then, it twisted again, swooped down and went through a loop, during which I screamed to Jesus. The whole thing was very quick and very exciting. It seems I had overcome my fear of the Boomerang after all!

Then the ride began it's trip up the second slope, to start it's backwards journey. This was a little less scary, because I couldn't see my ascent, only feel it. Then the cars dropped, and we repeated the ride, only backwards. It was a lot of fun going backwards, but I still found myself shouting "Holy Mary Mother of God!" at the top of my lungs, and reciting a few Catholic prayers, despite the fact that I'm Pagan.

The ride ended when it pulled itself halfway up the first hill, then settled back into the station slowly, in a manner that again, reminded me of death throes. It was over. The restraints released themselves, and we climbed out of the car,  I was slightly queasy and frazzled, but throughly entertained. We put our glasses back on, and walked away from the Boomerang. I felt like a champion. I had conquered the beast and won.

Fox and Squirrel Pt. 3

Part 3: Great Amusement and Frustration
Since I hadn't been to the Great Escape in four years, it should have been no surprise to me that there had been some changes. The first of these I noticed back in 2008, while driving past The Great Escape on my way to Glens Falls. Across the street from the park I saw a new hotel known as The Great Escape Lodge, which featured an indoor water resort. Another change that I had noticed in 2008 was the pedestrian bridge. It was a bridge that arched over the road so that guests could avoid the busy traffic and safely cross into the park. This particular road is always busy and crossing the street from the parking lot used to be such an ordeal, but now you can just walk over the relentless onslaught of cars, completely unharmed. It's a concept that I greatly enjoy. I hate crossing the street, and have long dreamed of being able to merely walk above it.

The third change I noticed, was that you could no longer park wherever you wanted. You had to pull into a driveway behind the lodge, pull up to a tollbooth and pay for your parking space. Parking cost ten bucks, and after we paid, the guy sitting in the tollbooth gave us a little ticket of verification.
Finding a parking space was difficult. We drove past car after car, eyeballing the diverse license plates, searching for a space, while I squirmed in anxiety. Eventually, we found a place to park in the way back; it was shitty place to park, but a place to park nonetheless.

We got out of the car, grabbed the bags we needed and locked the doors. Then we made the long trek from parking lot to amusement park. It was a long walk, that led us past picnic areas, and little man-made ponds dotted with lily pads. I felt excited and anxious as we walked; I also had to pee, seeing as I'd been drinking tea and Capri Sun throughout the drive. It was a little after noon and the park had been open for about an hour.

As I surveyed the park, I noticed their new ride, called The Sasquatch. It consisted of a pair 192 foot tall towers, that took riders up in the air, then dropped them at a terrifying speed. I was surprised by this, because I'd assumed that The Sasquatch was a terrifying new roller coaster. I'd been hearing about it all summer, but the only pictures I'd seen advertising the new ride featured closeups of frightened passengers; they did not show the ride's construction. Acacia and I marveled at it with awe and fear and briefly discussed whether or not we would ride it. Acacia didn't want to, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to.

We walked across the bridge, and into Great Escape territory. There weren't any lines outside the admission gates, seeing as it was a Monday and thus not very busy. We walked right through, displaying our online tickets and made our way to a long brick edifice, decorated with international flags. It was here that you had your tickets checked and your bags searched. I was dreading this part. Would they demand to see my ID? Would they find the Xanax that I had stashed in my backpack?

They never carded or searched us, just accepted our tickets and waved us through the turnstile. Turnstiles, provide great amusement and frustration for me. It's very difficult to make that bar turn, most people push them with their hands, but I never do. I just walk through them awkwardly, pushing them forward with my hips and thighs. There's a lot of resistance when I do that, so perhaps I should just try using my hands...

We were officially inside The Great Escape. When you enter the park, you find yourself in some kind of Bavarian village, filled with different shops selling candies, clothes, Looney Tunes merchandise etc. Park employees take your picture, and tell you to come back later to pick it up. Sitting in the center of all this activity is a majestic statue of a bronze warthog.

We were stopped by one of the park employees, a camera in his hand. He was a young man about my age, but I don't recall what he looked like. He took some photos of Acacia and I, some silly, some serious. There's always the simple portrait where you and your companions grin genuinely and then there's the goofy shot. In the goofy shot, people make silly faces, pretend to attack each other and just generally fool around. I don't remember what silly things Acacia and I did for our pictures, for we never retrieved them at the end of the day.

Afterwards, we strolled into Storytown. I still had to pee, but that was soon forgotten when we walked past the new ride. The Sasquatch stood there, in all it's glory, in the same spot The Rainbow had sat four years earlier. The area was decorated with a Bigfoot investigation theme, complete with camping gear and 'evidence' of Bigfoot's existence. The two towers loomed above us in all their magnificence. Acacia said she wanted to ride it, much to my surprise. She explained that we might as well do it and get it out of the way. I agreed with her wholeheartedly, and we got in line.

I do not know how Acacia felt, but I was filled with fear. Why was I doing this? Was I doing it to prove something? Do I do it because I am afraid? I'd been on miniature versions of this ride before, little 30 foot plunge rides featured at county fairs, but this, this was a behemoth, this was a new experience.
It was our turn; we had chosen the left tower, we'll call it Orthanc. We sat down in two of the molded plastic seats, that encircled the tower (if you've ever seen one of these rides you know what I mean) the kind which adhere to the contours of your bum and legs. We pulled down the shoulder restraints, and then buckled the safety belt, connecting the shoulder restraint to the seat, snapping us in tightly. My heart was pounding, and I do not remember if I took off my glasses or not (I must have). I do not remember if I reached for Acacia's hand. I remember the attendant checking our restraints, which is always awkward, because they directly always connect at the crotch. I know it's their job, but I still feel uncomfortable.

The ride's operation is housed inside a building that resembles a Ranger's Station; the ride operator speaks to you via intercom. He asked us if we were ready to go. I responded by closing my eyes in fear.
"Stop that..." The operator warned teasingly. My eyes snapped open, he must have seen me closing my eyes; I decided not to close them again.
The ride began it's ascent. It was a slow ascent, and seemed as if it took forever to get to the top, as it does on any ride where you're being lifted up in the air. It's the same feeling with roller coasters. I tried to center myself, tried to stay calm. I refused to close my eyes again, daring myself to look around. The view of the park, and the mountains surrounding it were beautiful. I briefly thought about how The Last of the Mohicans took place in this part of New York. My fear dissipated, I was so taken in by the landscape. We were at the very top, 192 feet in the air, the world below us so very small.

Then the ride plummeted and it was a fantastic rush. My stomach dropping, the wind in my hair and face. We plunged back to earth at an alarming speed, and our screams were those of delight instead of terror. I wasn't afraid, I was exhilarated!
The ride slowed down, rose a little again, as if it were in death throes, then finally lowered and stopped. We unbuckled ourselves, and I climbed out awkwardly. I say it was so, not because my legs were shaking but because of the shape of the seats. The plastic seats are molded in such a manner that they resemble an imprint of someone's buttocks and thighs. This unintentionally creates a bump that sits between the rider's legs. When you sit down, you can avoid it, because you're throwing yourself into the seat. But when you get off the ride, the bump manages to catch on your crotch. At least when I get out of the seat that plastic bump manages to molest me, I don't think anyone else has this malfunction.

So, we survived the Sasquatch in one piece; we even enjoyed it. But before we could decide on another ride, we had to do one very important thing. We had to use a bathroom!

The Great Escape Part 4

I decided to at least try to finish this memoir. I'll be alternating between the two, don't get too confused.

Part 4: Splashed and Sprayed
My uncle and I made our way to the entrance of Splashwater Kingdom, the water park section of The Great Escape. Just outside the entrance were lockers we could rent to store our things. To rent one, you went to a little kiosk, paid your fee and received a key. There are also lockers inside the Splashwater kingdom.. Uncle Russell rented us a little locker just outside the entrance and we met up with my aunts, cousins and sister inside the Splashwater Kingdom. Then we briefly split up in order to change.

My bathing suit was an aqua and yellow plaid one piece, which I had liked very much for it's colors and comfort. It was prettier than the other swimsuits I owned that year, including a hot pink glittery number, and a ruffled floral abortion. These two had been given to me by the mother of a friend.. I pulled my suit on, then let my aunt coat me in sunscreen.
At the age of ten, I had already started puberty, and when I wore my bathing suit there was no denying it's presence. My hips had begun to widen and my breasts had budded. I was physically maturing, the next year I would get my first period.

While my body was maturing, my emotions still had some catching up to do. Like I mentioned earlier, I was an immature 10 year old, and because of this I found myself in Noah's Sprayground.
Noah's Sprayground is a a water play ground with a Noah's Ark theme. It's got the ark, animal themed water slides, sprinklers and even some monkey shaped swings, all set in a foot of water or less. It's generally for babies, toddlers and small kids, but I went in anyway, eager to get wet. My presence was ignored by other bathers, though I was yelled at by a lifeguard for some minor discretion. I've only visited this attraction twice. This time, and in the summer of 2000. The last time I went in, some little brat kicked me in the shins, and declared that I was too big to be there, which I found to be a testament to his parents' disciplinary skills. Whoever, and wherever this brat is today, I hope he has AIDS; ill-mannered children are the bane of our society.

Eventually I wandered away from the aquatic playland, and grabbed a hot pink inner tube from a pile, not sure where to go. It seems I had forgotten about my family. It was then, that my sister retrieved me and told me to come with her.
We were going to ride Captain Hook's River Adventure. It's one of those lazy river rides where you lay in an inner tube and float down a chlorinated man-made river. Every so often you're drenched with sprays and torrents of water, coming from fountains and anywhere else a pipe can be placed. It's one of my favorites at the Great Escape, possibly because I went on it the first time I visited the park.

The water in the 'river' was about two or feet deep, which was a relief to me, seeing as I have always had a fear of drowning. But even though the water was shallow, I still had an irrational fear that I was somehow going to slip through the inner tube and drown anyway. I also felt uneasy trying to get into the inner tube, as I always do. Those things slip and slide out from under me, when ever I try to get in one. I'm sure there's a trick to getting in them, but I haven't figured it out. Because I was having so much trouble, my aunt held the inner tube steady while I climbed on. It was a bright blue and yellow ring of vinyl joy, slick with water droplets. Once I was securely on the tube, my aunt let go.

I bobbed down the river gently, gripping the handles of the inner tube, rocked by little waves. I began to drift underneath a bridge, on which park guests walked from attraction to attraction. It was dark under there, and from the bridge, a waterfall poured. I hoped that I would get sprayed, but I did not. My disappointment did not last long, because eventually, I would end up under a giant pipe spouting water, which poured what felt like gallons of water. Getting splashed and sprayed didn't turn out to be very fun. Even to this day, I always find myself hunched over and screaming when I end up under one of the fountains.
We went around the aquatic course twice. During the second trip through my Aunt slipped through the inner tube (just as I had feared doing) and grievously hurt her shoulder. We had to leave Splashwater Kingdom so my she could go to the park's infirmary. My foray into the water park was over. Where would I go next?

Fox and Squirrel Pt. 2

Part 2: Vermont Invading New York
We drove to Lake George, chatting and listening to music. As I usually do on road trips, I counted cemeteries and then eventually dozed for awhile. Car rides make me sleepy, they always have. For as long as I can remember, putting me in a car has resulted in putting me to sleep.
As with most road trips, I don't remember all the details, possibly because of how uneventful they usually are. I don't remember the names of the towns we drove through, or what road we were on. If I did, the story would have too many details, and thus make your head explode. I have too many details in this story as it is.

We did eventually cross into New York. I spent my time trying to recognize landmarks from my first trip to the Great Escape, but found that I remembered very little, so we kept consulting the map.
At one point, we stopped at a Stewart's. Stewart's, for those of you who don't know, is a chain of gas stations that happen to sell damn good ice cream. They are very common throughout New York state, and because I lived in upstate NY for six years, they have a lot of sentimental value to me.

We stopped at the Stewart's for several reasons. First of all, we were quite lost, and needed directions. Secondly, I had to use the bathroom, and Acacia wanted something to eat. While we did have snacks like chips and Rice Krispy Treats, she needed something substantial. So we pulled into the parking lot, and ambled out of the car. I peed, Acacia bought herself a Stewart's hamburger, some iced cappuccino drinks, and an iced tea for me; then we got our directions and left.

As Vermonters, it felt weird driving in New York and a little uncomfortable, as well. As we drove through small towns, I felt like our presence was unwelcome to locals. We found this amusing though, and began to joke about Vermont invading New York. We dubbed ourselves North and South; I cannot recall who was which. I may have been North because I was born in Burlington, but Acacia could have been North because she goes to Johnson State College. Acacia could have been South because she was raised in southern Vermont, but I could have earned the title because I live there full-time. Either way, we would call ourselves North and South for the rest of the day.

After awhile, we got lost for a second time, due to some confusion regarding our map. Something about the turn we were supposed to take didn't seem right. It didn't look like it led to an amusement park, instead it looked like a lonely country road. So we pulled into yet another gas station, cheerful European pop blasting out of our car speakers, audible to all who happened to pass by. Acacia got out to ask for directions, while I stayed in the car and enjoyed the music.

I felt something special in the air, a something I can't describe to you. It was one of those days where I realized how delicious it is to be young, one of those days where I felt free and happy. I didn't realize at the time that after this trip, I would be plunged into a deep depression that would put me in group therapy. But at that moment, I wasn't thinking about the future. I was in the present, uninhibited by the past and unconcerned for the future, reveling in my excitement and temporary good fortune. I felt my age, twenty years old and having fun.

It turns out we had taken a wrong turn, or we hadn't even made the turn, I'm not sure which. We also found out that a lot of people pull into that station to ask for directions because they always get confused by that goddamn turn. So we weren't the only ones to get lost, much to my amusement.
When we got close to Lake George, and began to see the road signs advertising the park, the traffic began to thicken. I felt a twinge of panic clutch me, and fervently hoped they weren't all headed for The Great Escape. It was unlikely, seeing as Lake George is a vacation town, and has lots of parks, camps and other summer attractions, but I couldn't help but feel that fear.

The traffic was heavy, and seemed to go on for miles and miles. We must have been five miles outside of Lake George and the traffic was already extremely dense. Subsequently, we ended up stuck in a traffic jam.
The ordeal was frustrating. Very frustrating. To ease our nerves, and have some fun, we put Phantom of the Opera into the car CD player, rolled down the windows and turned up the volume. Then we sang at the top of our lungs, with enthusiasm. High notes were hit, and nearby drivers stared. I don't know if we sounded any good, but it was an entertaining distraction.

But by the time we were in the shopping district of Lake George, the music wasn't helping. I felt frustrated and fussy. So we turned off the music, and decided to vent another way.
Swearing, often has stress and pain relieving effects. I don't know why, but it does; there have been scientific studies and everything. That being said, we decided to vent our frustrations and anxieties by swearing and swearing well. We said some filthy, obscene things and we made up some fantastically hilarious swears. One of the terms I made up was "Cunt Monkey". We found ourselves laughing, swearing and screaming at the traffic, our windows down, Lake George hearing our foul mouths. I think we may have traumatized some children or at the very least offended their parents.
Soon enough, the traffic began to clear, like mucus expectorating from congested lungs. We laughed some more, decided that our swearing had made the traffic move, and continued onward.

Soon enough, I began to notice certain landmarks that heralded the appearance of the park, including a staid office building which sits just next door to The Great Escape. I've always loved the contrast of these two opposites sitting next to each other, the office building and the amusement park.
I felt a tingle of excitement, soon we would be there! Then, at last, I saw the park itself, looking a little different than the last time I saw it, but it was still The Great Escape!
But there were other changes, beyond the ones that I could see and I was about to find out how big those changes were...

And you'll find out too! In my next installment!

Fox and Squirrel go on an Adventure

I'm taking a break from my other cyber memoir "My First Trip to the Great Escape", to impart the account of my most recent trip to the theme park, with my dear friend Acacia. Like other memoirs of mine (All amusement park themed, it seems) it will be in parts, and I hope what few readers I have will be able to keep up and not get mixed up.

Part 1: You Can't Have an Adventure on an Empty Stomach
Acacia and I first hatched our plan for a Great Escape trip on a warm summer's day. We'd spent the day swimming at the Saxton's River Rec, shopping in Rutland, and visiting the Laurel Glen cemetery in Cuttingsville, Vermont. At some point during our long day, we decided to plan a special trip. Would we go to Salem, MA? Would we go to The Montshire Museum? It had to be special. Somehow, we decided upon the Great Escape, seeing as neither of us had been there in years.

For me, the planning was rather strenuous; I had to scrounge up enough cash to buy a ticket and to pay for gas and parking (The Great Escape charged for parking!). We also had to pick a date, and arrange a schedule. There was much to do and so little time to do it! I was having anxiety attacks from the stress. But thanks to my mother's help and a bit of good luck, everything worked out. We ordered the tickets online, and my mom bought food to pack a picnic. We'd take our trip on a Monday, to beat the weekend crowds.

It had been decided that on the night before our trip I would sleep at Acacia's, for reasons of convenience. So on Sunday, August 9th, Acacia arrived at my house, in her little midnight blue car. I had packed us two bags of food for the night and the next day, sandwich makings, snacks and juice boxes. In my Sweeney Todd bag I had packed my overnight things- pajamas, clothes for the next day, items of that sort. In my purple backpack, I packed items I would need for the park- my bathing suit, my towel, medications, my money and our tickets.

Acacia and I drove to her house in good spirits. I however, was just a tiny bit anxious, triggered by my usual apprehension of going on any trips without my family (how did I survive Hershey?) and the fact that The Great Escape only accepted online tickets if you had a photo ID, which I did not have. But you'll find dear reader, that my fears were unfounded. I was not carded, not even once, during our trip.

Acacia lives in a lovely old house in Chester, with a beautiful view of the river. The rooms are gorgeous, and well decorated with various curios and knick-knacks. The house belongs to her grandparents, and she lives there during college vacations. It is also haunted, but I will discuss that later.
Once inside, we put away our food and settled in for an entertaining evening. Acacia graciously offered me a Woodchuck Hard Cider, which I accepted gladly, for I enjoy the crisp tartness of hard cider. Drinks in hand, we entered the living room, to entertain ourselves in various and sundry ways.

It was a boisterous night. We watched an anime called Axis Powers Hetalia and a couple of TV programs. We laughed and we ate sandwiches.
The night wore on.  At one point, Acacia retired to the bathroom to shave her legs, giving me a chance to use the internet. We had long talks about life, the universe and everything, accompanied by plenty of music.
Soon, it was time to go to bed. We camped out in the living room; I had the couch while Acacia took the floor. We got settled in, and turned out the lights.

Sleep did not come. Besides my anxiety and excitement, my insomnia was caused by the fact that Acacia's house had it's share of spirits. Weird vibes and sounds filled the darkness. As a result, I panicked and Acacia turned on the light. As with most hauntings, the bad feelings recede when the light is on, and I felt at ease. To further my comfort, Acacia brought out incense and tarot cards. She lit the incense, releasing a sweet smell reminiscent of my childhood, an incense my mother must have used. Then she performed a tarot reading.

During the reading, we discussed my on and off again boyfriend Scott, for the trials of our affair had been plaguing me for the past two years. It helped some and I had intense feelings of comfort and ease, thanks to the ritual and the sweet incense. We returned to bed, much more willing to sleep than before. I did eventually sleep some, and had very bizarre dreams. I tend to have weird dreams whenever I sleep away from home. I woke up several times during the night, but managed to fall back asleep.

We woke up about six in the morning, ready to get on the road. I changed out of my pajamas and put on clean underwear, socks and a bra. Then, I pulled on my Torrid capris, (the same ones I wore to Hershey) and my purple t-shirt with the meditating fairy. I put on my black converse sneakers with the rainbow laces, my pentacle, my purple goddess earrings and tied my hair back into an efficient ponytail. Acacia put on a pair of khaki colored shorts, a t-shirt, the color of which escapes my memory, (I want to say it was a pale sage green) and a pair of sandals. Not flip-flops, wedges, or slides, but a pair of good proper sandals which stay put.

We had everything packed up, our food, our bathing suits and everything else, but it was only 6:15. We had hopped out of bed and gotten dressed and packed in record time. Acacia was not quite ready to leave, so she suggested making breakfast; you can't have an adventure on an empty stomach, after all.
So we made pancakes. We mixed the batter, and fried them right up. They fell apart easily and were a little misshapen, but they were still very tasty. We slathered them in butter and pancake syrup (even though we're Vermonters, we sadly lacked real maple syrup), poured ourselves glasses of milk and sat down to breakfast.

It was a good breakfast; we ate heartily and I downed two glasses of milk. We chatted over our breakfast, one of the subjects being the fact that the syrup bottle said "Pancake and Waffle Syrup". You can't call it maple, because it is not maple. It is not even close, it's artificially flavored imitation maple. It doesn't even have maple in it, I think. It tastes like it, but it's a vague, overly sweet maple-y flavor. It's not bad, but it's not the real thing. Like silicone tits, you can look at them, they're pretty if they're done right, but they'll never feel as nice as the real thing.
After breakfast, I took my Cylexa and a Xanax for my anxiety and we chilled for awhile (Or did we chill before we had breakfast?). I was anxious to leave, but Acacia was the driver and since she had the keys, she made the decisions.

We left around seven. I put in my American Indian flute music, but it made us too sleepy, so we switched to more cheerful music to gear us up. We drove to Springfield, in order to stop at Acacia's bank so she could get some money. I didn't mind too much, until we discovered we had at least a half an hour before her bank opened! We waited that grueling 30 minutes reading New England ghost stories to each other. When the bank opened, we went in and Acacia withdrew some money from her account. Then we got back in the car, and made ready to journey to Lake George.

But we forgot the map. Not having a map put a damper on our plans. A big one. So we sped back to Chester and ran into the house to get the map, while I reminded myself that everything would work out fine. Once we fetched the map, we could officially begin our adventure.

Stay tuned for part 2!

The Great Escape Part 3

Part 3: Game For Anything
We exited Storytown through a man-made rock tunnel, which went under a waterfall. Directly behind the waterfall, was a window, where guests could stick out their hands and touch the water. Well, at least I did that, and still do whenever I go to the Great Escape.

The inside of the tunnel was cool, and quiet, the only noise being the echoes of other guests. I looked up at the ceiling and thought I saw little gems in the rock. I soon realized that these weren't fake gems to make the rock pretty, but used chewing gum! It was stuck all over the walls and ceiling! I can see how it go on the walls, but the ceiling? How on earth did that gum end up on the ceiling? Did some very tall people put it there? God only knows, and I'll never find out. Maybe I should ask a park employee someday.

When we left the tunnel, we were assaulted by the bright afternoon light and the cheesiness of Ghost Town. Complete with saloons, actors performing shoot-outs and all the accouterments required to have a proper Wild West theme. It also happened to be dreadfully crowded.
Desperate to go on a ride, I picked out a ride I had seen when entering the park, seen only because of it's height, The Condor. This ride goes fifty feet in the air, it's passengers in bird shaped carriages. It circles either fast or slow depending on the operator and can be seen as either very dull or very fun. I found it neither.

I got in a carriage with my Aunt Elizabeth, but decided I was a big girl (being ten) and wanted my own bird. I got in it eagerly, and prepared to buckle in, but got a big surprise when I didn't find any safety restraints! No seat belt. No lap bar. Nothing. I began to panic, wondering how I'd be kept from falling out, wondering if I had a defective bird. I think I began to call the ride attendant for help. You can imagine my relief then, when I discovered that there was a little automatic gate that would slide closed, and keep me from falling out of the bird. I do not remember how I found out about this, but I think the ride attendant may have been involved.
The Condor went slowly enough, but it was very, very high up. I remember looking down and feeling immense fear. The people below looked like little specks, the ground so very far away. I could not enjoy the view, so scared was I. When the ride was over, I wanted to go on more rides, but we had to wait for everyone to catch up with us.

This was my low point of the day. I end up having a childish temper tantrum, which earned me a short time out on an uncomfortable park bench. My discomfort was due to the fact that it was a hard wooden bench, with a thick plank just randomly nailed to it. Being in a foul mood did not improve matters, either. I didn't sit there too long, but it was still unpleasant.

Eventually, we met up with the rest of the group and we got in line for a log flume ride known as The Desperado Plunge. For a little while, it had been re-named The Poland Springs Plunge (let's hear it for blatant advertising!), but the new commercial name didn't stick too long. It's now called The Desperado Plunge again. The Plunge is one of those extended wait rides, because there are so few boats available. There are like, four or five of these barrel-shaped boats, and they can hold a maximum of four people, though they can be filled with as little as two passengers.

We stood in line for about half an hour. I whined several times during the wait, and my aunt asked me if I wanted to turn around and get out of line. Sullenly, I said no, and saw it through.
When it was our turn we got loaded up, four to one boat and three to another (there were seven of us if I recall correctly). Each boat is divided into two little compartments. Each of these compartments has a long, narrow, vinyl covered seat. My Aunt Elizabeth and I sat in front compartment, where my aunt let me sit in front of her. My sister Katie rode in the back compartment, but I do not remember who she sat with.
The ride started out slowly, going down the stream, bumping into the sides gently. I looked around, seeing the outskirts of the park, where old ride parts are abandoned, The Plunge is right on the outskirts of the park where on one side of the fence, guests mill about happily, but the other side seems abandoned, dusty and desolate, littered with the corpses of old rides. Seeing this borderline was the beginning of a strange phobia. I don't like the edges of amusement parks, that's where the magic ends, and gritty reality begins.

The boat began to be pulled up a conveyor belt, but I didn't know why. I probably assumed that after we went uphill, the ride would remain gentle. I was proven wrong though. We'd been released onto a whitewater flume, which moved fast, and had some sudden drops. Water splashed up the sides of the boat, splattered us. I gripped the handlebars that flanked the inner sides of the boat.

After a medium sized drop, we floated into a strange warehouse like-building, the side which faced the road had the Great Escape legend painted on it. Inside this strange edifice, it was dark and had the musty smell of old wood, which I associated with The Shelburne Museum. There were creepy logger dummies, some of which were automated, doing different tasks. For a moment, I had thought they were actors, but I know now they were not. My sister told me they were former employees turned into dummies.
When we were about exit the creepy building, when my sister gleefully told me to look up. Above my head were two dummies, one of which was tangled in a net, a frightened expression frozen on his face, the other, clinging to a revolving log, reaching down towards us riders. As a ten-year-old girl, I was utterly disturbed by these plastic fellows.
I didn't have much time to concentrate on this however, for the ride had taken a sudden, very steep plunge. This was the grand finale of the ride, the meaning behind its name. My stomach dropped, and I clung to the sides of the boat. When we hit the water, a great wave splashed up onto us, drenching our laps. When we exited the ride, I looked down at my soaked lap and thought that it looked like I had pissed myself.
I was greeted with another surprise when I learned that there was a camera that took photos of you as you take the plunge downhill. I looked at my expression in the photo; I had a strange grimace, that made me look vaguely constipated.

After we went on this ride, my uncle asked me if I wanted to ride The Steamin' Demon roller coaster. I was game for anything so I said yes. While everyone else went off to eat lunch, my Uncle Russ and I ran to get in line for the ride. It wasn't a very long line if I recall, (because the ride is very fast) and we got seated quickly. My uncle pocketed my glasses (after The Boomerang incident, I would no longer risk it), we buckled in, and lowered the shoulder restraints. The ride was fast, furious and a little traumatizing, but afterwards, my uncle convinced me to go on a second time. Like the first, I remember little of this one, other than screaming "OH! NO! NOT AGAIN!" each time the ride went upside down.

Afterwards, my uncle took me to a Wild West themed cafe (I can't remember what its name was) situated near the roller coaster, that sold fried chicken and other down home country comestibles. We got corn on the cob, barbecue chicken and fries, with sodas. But the food turned out to be terrible! The corn was bitter, the fries were cold. I don't remember what the chicken tasted like. We lost our appetites and decided to rent a locker so we could meet everyone else at The Splashwater Kingdom section of the park. It was time to take a swim.

My First Trip to The Great Escape Part 2

Part 2: Shell-shocked and Amazed
Though slightly shaken by my experience on The Rainbow, I was game to try another ride. It was decided that we would go on The Boomerang Coast to Coast Roller Coaster. I don't remember how many of my group got in line, though I experienced some apprehension and almost chickened out.

It would be my first real roller coaster. Earlier that year, my uncle Russell and I rode a roller coaster simulator at an arcade. It was a pod that tilted and spun, while the riders watched a virtual roller coaster on the screen inside. I recall feeling traumatized from going upside down. But now as I stood in the relatively short line, I wasn't even thinking of the arcade simulator or the discomfort I had felt on it. I was only thinking of how much fun I would have on my first roller coaster. At one point I passed a trash can, and went to look in it out of curiosity.
"You don't wanna look in there" My aunt said. I wondered why. Was there vomit in there? It was a roller coaster, after all. What could be in there? I realize now, that there was more likely to be vomit in the trashcan near the ride exit, as opposed to being in the ride entrance.

As I waited in line, I listened to the screams of people already on the roller coaster. They blended into a mass chorus, unearthly and strange. Many voices became one, and that voice seemed oddly far away. The sound was quite surreal, I'd never heard a large group of people scream in unison, terror and exhilaration blending into a single expression. Would I scream like they were?
I was going to find out, for soon I found myself getting on the ride. I buckled in, lowered the shoulder restraint. My aunt said something to me, but I can't recall what it was.
Because the roller coaster goes backwards as well as forwards, instead of going uphill in the conventional way, the Boomerang gets pulled up the first hill backwards in order to be launched.
As it began to climb up the hill, I began to doubt getting on the ride. It was a lot higher than I imagined, and I found myself incredibly frightened. My body was slipping downward, and I grasped the handles on the restraint, trying to pull myself up. It was too late to change my mind though, for soon enough the cars were speeding downhill, after the grueling ascent. It was frighteningly fast and I regretted not taking off my glasses. Fearing I'd lose them, I wrestled my hand through one of the handlebars on the shoulder restraint, using my forearm to hold onto the restraint and my hand to hold onto my glasses.

After it had gone through two twists and a loop, it began to drag itself up the second hill, to prepare for the backwards half of the ride. As it did so, shell-shocked and amazed, I whispered "Mother" very softly. I thought I sounded quite like Daffy Duck when I did so.
It was worse going backwards. This time, I was aware of how weightless I was in the roller coaster, being thrown about like a rag doll, feeling like I was going to fall out of the coaster.
When it was over, I walked off the coaster shaking slightly, feeling slightly sour in the stomach. I wanted to go on something a little more gentle. So I chose the Grand Carousel as my next ride.

The carousel at the Great Escape was the most beautiful one I'd ever seen, at least at that point in my life. I've seen more beautiful since. There were fancy horses and animals, some sparkling in the summer sun. The blue-green horse with the mermaid's tail comes to mind. But I did not get a beautiful horse. I got an average horse, much to my chagrin, seeing as I was one of the last people to get on. I was also surprised that I had to buckle in, with a polyester strap that wrapped around the waist, attached to the pole the horse was skewered onto. This was new to me, I'd never had to buckle in on a merry-go-round before.

When I was little the carousel was my favorite ride. I rode them at the fair, at the Shelburne museum (theirs dates from the 1920's) and even rode the little cheesy ones in front of the grocery stores. I adored them. Even now, they still hold some fascination and nostalgia for me. But at ten, I'd found myself a little bored. On the horse next to me, sat a girl my age; I tried to engage her in conversation. I told her that today was my first trip to The Great Escape. Instead of being nice like I expected, she bragged, saying she'd come to the park hundreds of times. I thought she was terribly rude.

After I went on the merry-go-round, I decided to go on the Cinderella Coach ride, in the fairytale section of the park. This section had little houses, all from infamous nursery rhymes and fairy tales, most of which came from the original Storybook Land amusement park, which was built on the grounds where the Great Escape now stands. At the center of it all, was The Grand Carousel and to the left of that was The Cinderella ride, which was no more than a pumpkin shaped coach lead by two ponies. But, in the coach, was Cinderella herself. In reality, Cinderella is a blond park employee in a prom dress and clear plastic dress shoes. But to a little kid, this impostor is the real deal. All in all though, the ride isn't very exciting and it isn't very fancy, but it is still appealing to children.

I may have been ten, but I was a rather immature ten, who had no idea her behavior was an anachronism to her peers. While they would have scorned such a "baby ride" I jumped onto it, with eagerness and curiosity.
It was a mistake. The coach was small and crowded, Cinderella taking up one side ( why she needed that side of the coach to herself is beyond my guess, as her ass didn't look that big), and us kids on the other. While the coach made it's trip around the oval-shaped track I felt hot and crowded, my discomfort only made worse by the toddler next to me, who perched on his sister's lap, decided to place his sticky hand on my thigh for balance. I didn't understand that was the logical reason, until this was explained to my by my fifth grade teacher, who, when helping me write a narrative of this adventure for class (one which I never finished). She said that I should add it to the story, so it wouldn't seem like the kid was, as she put it, "being fresh". I just thought he was invading my personal space because he was being an idiot. Actually, 11 years later, I'm convinced the kid was idiot, because only and idiot would invade a stranger's personal space "for balance". But then again, he was a toddler, and generally, toddlers are idiots.

Nonetheless, the unwanted contact was annoying, as I have issues with my personal space being invaded without my permission. So to distract myself, I talked to Cinderella. I complimented her on her shoes, and she smiled and told me, they were just replacements, her real glass slippers were in the shop. In hindsight, she may have been explaining why they were plastic. I looked out the windows, admired the fountains, and the fake castle in the center of the oval track. I tried to pretend I was really on my way to a ball.
But when the ride ended, I was considerably grouchy. It was hot and the group had separated, making me panic. We would meet up with them again, however, in the Old West section of the park, which I will describe to you in my next entry. Stay tuned!

My First Trip to The Great Escape

Like I've said, I often like to stroll down memory lane. The Elfquest equivalent of this is known as a Howl. So tonight's Howl, is for my first trip to The Great Escape. I have decided to excavate this decade old memory because this Monday, I will be going to the park for the first time in four years, making it my 9th trip to The Great Escape. Like the Hershey Memoir, this will be written in parts. Because the memory is so old, it will be kind of shaky and have some holes in it.

Part 1: The Creme de la Creme of All Summer Trips
It happened the summer I was 10, my family was living on West Allen Street in Winooski, Vermont and planning on moving to New York. In between all this chaos, I still managed to swim, play and enjoy myself. That summer I had been to camp, (which had been a traumatizing experience) and attended a gamut of cook-outs. But all our neighbors were going to The Great Escape, and had been for years, and I was quite jealous. My sisters had been before as well, and that too had me filled with envy.

So you can imagine my surprise and delight, when I was given the chance to go to the fabled park. It had started when my mother answered a seemingly mundane call from my Aunt Elizabeth. My aunt spent plenty of time with me in those days, taking me on various trips and adventures. When she married my Uncle Russell, this did not change, he joined in on the fun. All that summer, the two of them took my sisters and I on swimming trips and the like, and now they were taking my sister, Katie and I on the creme de la creme of all summer trips!

My mother turned to me, still on the phone and asked if I wanted to go to The Great Escape with my aunt. She didn't even need to ask! Eagerly, I said yes, and ran outside to tell all my redneck neighbors. They took my news with good humor, though one of them, a Mr. Peter Parker, told me there was a ride that flung you straight in the air and if it hit the water it was a water ride. If not, well you were dead. At the time, I was a gullible little guppy and believed him, much to the amusement of all the hicks.

That night, my Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Russell came for my sister Katie and I. They took us to their apartment located in The Old North End of Burlington. We would stay there for the night, in order to get a bright start that morning. I had packed some clothes, my aqua green and yellow plaid swimsuit, my teddy bear and my ADD medication. I remember being wonderfully excited for the next day!

When we arrived at the small apartment, my aunt and I walked her dog, Cody, whose ears I had chewed on in my infancy. She's no longer with us, but I remember her very well. She was a patient and loving dog, who used to let my uncle wrap ace bandages around her head. He had also made signs for her kennel that said: "Anthrax Victim" and "POW".

After we went inside, I played with my aunt's paper dolls. She had Movie Monster Paperdolls and a set of little boys and girls in clothes from the 1920's. My fourteen-year-old sister played video games. While we amused ourselves, my aunt made the sleeping arrangements, she and I would share her bed, my sister would have the futon couch and my uncle would take the floor.
That night, I couldn't sleep because I was too excited. I tossed and turned and rolled about, before finally falling asleep. I had strange dreams. When we woke up, my Aunt, Uncle and I compared our dreams. Then we had breakfast.

After getting dressed (I vaguely recall wearing a pair of navy blue jersey shorts I favored, and a red t-shirt) and packing up the car, we set off for Lake George.
Along with Aunt Elizabeth, Uncle Russell, Katie and I, we would be accompanied by my Aunt Amy, my cousin Gabrielle (her daughter) and my cousin Ethan (my Aunt Michelle's son). I hadn't seen either Aunt Amy or Cousin Gabrielle in some time, nor did I communicate with them very much, so it was kind of exciting.
The ride was long and to a ten-year-old girl, rather boring; I sat behind the driver's seat, and spent most of my time looking out the window. I remember seeing a sign for Fort Anne and I remember seeing a few motels. We played my sister's Rob Zombie tape, it was Hellbilly Deluxe. Some of it was a little disturbing for me, but I did enjoy a few of the songs.

We took several bathroom breaks, and on one of them we met up with my Aunt Amy and my cousins. Aunt Elizabeth gave me some Dramamine that was dark pink and tasted slightly of raspberry. After, I noticed a castle in the mountains. A castle! My aunt told me it was a restaurant, and that she stopped there to use the bathroom once. I learned later, that it was reputedly haunted; it had been a mansion, and a woman had been murdered there.
We drove through Lake George and oh, did my eyes widen at the sights! I saw a pirate-themed miniature golf course, the biggest mini-golf course I had ever seen. I saw so many fantastic things, most of which I can not recall, but know they were amazing.

Soon enough, the park came into view, surrounded by mountains and trees. How exciting it was, to see the Great Escape billboard, plastered on to the side of the log flume ride! Even now, I can feel it, that childish flush of excitement in my chest and belly, the urge to start screaming and running in circles. I felt such an excited sense of wonder, one I still feel from time to time whenever I go on a fun trip.
We parked across the road from the park. We met up with Aunt Amy and the cousins, and went to get in the admission line. I was so excited, looking forward to my first amusement park trip. I remember holding my Aunt's hand as we crossed the street. This was before they had installed the pedestrian bridge that spanned over the busy traffic, so crossing the street was a harrowing experience.

As we waited in line to buy our tickets, I looked with wide eyes at the different rides. I saw a large steel roller coaster, The Steamin' Demon and two other thrill rides, The Rainbow and The Condor. I asked my uncle which we should go on first. He picked The Rainbow, a ride which is now dismantled, and I think of now with great fondness.

We paid for our tickets, and I wondered if I was tall enough for the roller coasters. My aunt assured me that I was in fact tall enough. We entered the park, my excitement barely contained. We walked past gift shops, and candy stores. A park employee asked us if we wanted a group picture. We all stood together and smiled.  After the picture was taken, my Aunt showed me a large bronze statue of a warthog. She said if I got lost, I was to return to that statue because we would meet there; thankfully I never got lost.
Having decided that we would go on The Rainbow first, my uncle and I made our way to the ride. In it's heyday, it was a lovely sky blue, with two heavenly looking female statues on each side of the audience style seats. Behind the seats there was a great rainbow of lights. At night it would light up beautifully.

There wasn't much of a line for the ride, and we got seated in the back, right next to one of the statues, on the left. My uncle and I sat together, while my cousin sat by herself; the ride director asked us to raise our arms. In my naivety, I thought we were doing it to show our excitement. But it was only so the protective lap bar could lower itself, if you didn't raise your arms, they'd be stuck under the steel bar.

The ride started, lifting itself into air. This is pretty much all the ride does, is move up and down, as if drawing a half-circle. The first time it lifted, I thought it would hit the building next to the ride. Considering the fact that a corner of that building was dented and smashed, my fear was not irrational. I was horribly nervous. The next time it rose into the air, the ride went higher than the nearby Aspen tree, which stood a good thirty or fifty feet. This was, as you can imagine, my cue to start screaming. I hadn't realized before, just how afraid of heights I was! I was terrified! I gripped the lap bar and screamed as the ride rose and fell, my stomach dropping. Six years later, I would learn to enjoy this ride, but at the tender age of ten, I was rather traumatized.

The ride ended. As we exited, I commented to the ride director, that The Rainbow must look beautiful all lit up. He told me that I should see it later, at night. I said I would, but I never did.
The Rainbow was my first grown-up ride, before that I'd only been on merry-go-rounds, baby roller coasters (the mini ones that often look like dragons or caterpillars), and giant slides. I came away from this initiation shaken, but eager for more. Indeed, I would get more than I bargained for, when I would ride the Boomerang, which you'll hear about in my next installment!

Back to normal blogging

After that lengthy memoir, which I'm sure none of you read, I'm quite pleased to return to my old method of blogging. But with a new feature- The Image Macro of the Day!
I'm not writing this blog for anyone's pleasure but mine. Here, I can rant, share memoirs and hone my writing skills. If someone comes across it and enjoys my work, that's fine, it will give me some small joy in my life.
So many people write solely for page views and drama. But I write for the joy of it. My mind is filled with many tumbling and rumbling thoughts, dancing in my skull. Yet my memory is like sieve. Often I will lose these great thoughts, in that great river made of lost memories and ideas. I must harness these thoughts by blogging them, a reservoir of sorts.
I want to become a better writer. I want my ideas to come across clearly. I want to write stories that make people think, that make people feel. I want to write things that are beautiful and disturbing, I want people to question their world after reading my books. I am greatly inspired by Stephen King.
I have other life goals. One of which is to visit every single known cemetery in the state of Vermont. So far, I've been to five of the cemeteries in Bellow's Falls, one in Burlington, one in Bristol, one in Swanton, one in Windsor, one in Lyndonville and one in Bennington. I just noticed three out of six of these towns begin with the letter B. The ones in Bristol and Burlington, I visited as a child. The rest I have visited in my teens, with the exception of Bennington. I visited that one the day before my birthday, thus making it the first cemetery I visited on the cusp of my twenties.
That's right, I suppose I'm in my early twenties now. I turned 20 last Tuesday. Most people my age look to this as a time of great change. Not so, with I. I felt the last of my childhood slip from my fingers, on April the 14th. The days of innocence and freedom from logic are forever locked in the archives of memory, only taken out to be mused upon, never to be relived. I am no longer a child, not even close, I am a woman now. A woman, what do you suppose that means? What does in mean to be a woman? Women are the bearers of life, but not all women bear children, women are the owners of wisdom, but not all women are wise. To be a woman is a complicated quilt. We dance the complex dance between weakness and strength, domination and submission. To some we are considered helpless, to others we are considered tyrants.
Women cannot be categorized. Everyone has tried to put women into neat little categories, but like cats, we cannot stay in one place for too long.
You may notice that I leap from subject to subject, like crossing a river by jumping rock to rock. Free writing is a favored method of mine.

Macro of the Day:

Hershey Part Seven

And now the last chapter...

Part 7: Plunged Into Night
I stood with my friends, staring up at the bright orange behemoth known as Fahrenheit. Hannah and Courtney wanted to ride it, but Mr. Burke and everyone else were going on the gondola ride. I had already gone on that, and so had Amanda, who didn't want to ride it again. I wasn't sure what to do; should I ride the roller coaster, like I said I would? After some deliberation, I made a decision.
I would not ride the Fahrenheit. The sight of that vertical drop filled me with a sense of unease, and I chickened out. Instead, I would ride The Monorail with Amanda. I felt a little foolish, I had told everyone I would ride that coaster, but my bravado had been false and I had broken my word. But it didn't matter, because at that moment, I had realized that being with my friend was more important than anything. She would be moving to Utah that summer, and I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her.

As we made our way to get in line, I bought a lemonade. Employees wandered around the park pushing carts filled with cups of the cold drink, along with other amusement park snacks, such as cotton candy. I paid three dollars for a cup, but it was worth the money, because it was the best lemonade I had ever tasted. It was sweet, tart and very refreshing. It wasn't too sugary, too watery or too sour. It was perfect, and much better than the Pepsis and Gatorades I'd been drinking all day.
Amanda and I boarded the monorail, with the Blue Cross Blue Shield logo plastered on the side. The seats were hard, white and institutional. I could understand why a medical insurance company was sponsoring it. Another family boarded the ride and then, it started. It was slow, gentle and boring. To pass the time, Amanda and I gossiped about our day and admired the scenery. The park was starting to shut down, and was virtually empty now. It was creepy, for all those glittering lights, and had a vaguely haunted feel. I wondered if the ghosts that resided in the park were wandering now. The thought made me shiver.
I sipped my lemonade, and I tried to shake the uneasiness I felt. The ride itself was well lit, but the world around it was being plunged into night. We actually left the park at some point, and rode over train tracks, past the factory. This was rather creepy, as we were outside the glittering safety of Hershey's Chocolate world, and out in the doom and gloom of the real world. But even inside the park, there was still a vaguely sinister feeling, as there always is at closing time in an amusement park.

We re-entered the park, and passed the Animal Reserve. We howled to the wolves, hoping they would hear us and answer. They did not, much to our disappointment. They were no longer nocturnal, the park's schedule had changed them.
After the ride was over, we went to meet everyone. We left the creepier parts of Chocolate World, and into the more well-lit areas close to the park's entrance. We passed a stand selling turkey legs. I couldn't help myself, I bought one. It was hot, greasy, salty and delicious. I shared it with my friends, though I eventually had to tell a few people to leave me alone and stop picking at my food without my permission. I prefer it when people ask me, before they start acting like damned vultures. But it was good meat, and if I had not shared it I could not have finished it. After I stripped it of viable flesh, I went into the gift shop, wiping grease off my fingers.

I wanted a souvenir, something to remind me of my wonderful day. This was the last time, I would go to Hershey with Miss Westbrook, maybe the last time I would go to Hershey ever. I called my mom, asked her if I could use the rest of the money she had given me. She said I could. I bought a small brown bear that had the word "Hershey's" embroidered in silver. It was $11.99, but luckily, Amanda lent me a dollar to cover it. Miss Westbrook and I named him Herschel. I'm holding him now, as I type; the tag is still in his ear.

We finally left the park, exhausted after a long day. I felt some sorrow as we left. I also hoped I would get a seat to myself.
On the bus, I found my bag had fallen to the floor and slid to the back of the bus. I growled to myself about the damn bus driver and the damn bus. Then I growled even more, when I realized that the search for my scattered had lost me my seat. The spot I had claimed was taken by someone else, who was hogging the whole damn thing. I should have put my backpack down on the cushion, claiming it, before I got up to search. So, I ended up sitting with Olivia instead, right across from my original seat. Because I had to share a seat, I knew I would not sleep well.

The ride home was long and strange. I slept uneasily, my back and hips flaring in pain, my neck screaming in agony. I could not get comfortable! I scooched down in my seat, rested my legs up against the seat in front of me. I would sleep fitfully, wake, then sleep again. The bus was oddly quiet. It was the sort of silence one experiences after a long journey. The sort of silence caused by pure exhaustion.
We stopped at a strange gas station; I remember that we stopped because the driver needed to get some food. The line for the bathroom had a family that did not speak any English. They cut in front of us in the bathroom, or did we cut in front of them? I cannot recall; I felt so dazed and groggy. I wanted a snack, but had no more money.

We returned to the bus. Someone's shoes smelled like wet dog and cheese. Miss Westbrook had tried to prevent this from happening (in 2007, there was so much foot stank that the whole bus smelled like New Jersey) Though I can't say anything about foot odor, as my feet can be pretty noxious themselves. One girl complained of having blisters. Mr. Burke explained that because her shoes had gotten wet, she had gotten blisters. So that was why I had blisters the previous year! This year thankfully, my feet were unscathed.

A bunch of the kids were sitting in the aisles of the bus, whispering into the night, I longed to join them; I felt left out. But I wanted to sleep so badly, I couldn't keep my eyes open. I do not recall if I dreamed or not. I think Morpheus and I did not meet that night. Or if we did, I don't remember it. The night was a very surreal blur. While I can remember so many details of the drive to Hershey, I remember so little of the ride home.
Then, as the sun danced across the horizon, bringing a pink and gold dawn, we arrived in Vermont. By five AM, we arrived at the high school. It was over. Our weekend was over. It was Sunday June 1st, Hershey and my experiences there seemed very far away. We exited the bus, stretching our limbs and rubbing our eyes. Belongings were gathered, and we waited for rides in silence. It may have been drizzling, but for all I know I could be confusing 2008 with 2007.

My mother picked me up. I showed her my bear, but neither she nor I said much. I felt like a refugee from a strange land. I wanted to fall into my bed, I wanted to pet my cats. I'd had a fun weekend, but it was over now. It felt like it all happened in another country, another lifetime. After all that planning, all the anticipation, it was over, faded into nothing more than a memory.