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!