It seems this memoir is running longer than the others that I've written. I certainly hope what few readers I have can keep up.
Part 7: The Church of the Bucket
It was our turn, and it was too late to change our minds. Acacia and I settled down in our clover shaped inner tube; we sat across from each other diagonally, in order to even out the weight distribution. Then we let the current whip us down the slide.
The drop was very steep, much steeper than the Mega Wedgie, and the speed we were traveling at was much faster as well. It was so fast and wild, that when the inner tube shot out into the funnel that gives the ride it's moniker, I didn't even realize it. My ignorance was short-lived however, for I looked down and saw that we were twenty feet in the air, up the side of the giant funnel. I made a noise of surprise and shock (perhaps some expletives were involved as well), and Acacia laughed at the expression on my face.
We slid up and down the sides of the tunnel (it's placed horizontally, as opposed to vertically, so instead of spinning inside the funnel, you go up the sides) several times, until our momentum slowed down. Then we shot out the bottom of the tunnel and landed with a giant splash into the pool. What fun that slide was! I had been slightly frightened and highly delighted. We floated in our inner tube for a few moments, the sun shining on us. I felt exposed, for I knew the people still waiting in line were watching us, waiting to see when we would get off our tube and get out of the water. I had wanted to float into the shallows, and I think we may have, but it was more likely that we quickly dismounted from the tube and dragged the cumbersome bastard out of the water.
We left The Tornado, laughing about how shocked we were when we realized we were up on the side of the funnel. We collected our towels and Acacia's sandals from the place we left them, having to lean over a man, who was lounging in a chair next to the fence we placed our things on. It was pretty awkward, but I'm sure he didn't mind.
We walked down to Paul Bunyan's Bucket Brigade, which is a large aquatic playground that boasts ' over 150 ways to get wet'. The tree-house like, five-story edifice that resembles an over-sized jungle gym is set in a two foot deep pool, and features fountains, jets that spray water from all directions, and slides. But the icing on the cake is a large bucket set at the very tippy top of the 'tree house', which holds up to five hundred (if I recall correctly) gallons of water, and, when it is filled to capacity, empties itself upon eager bathers at regular intervals. Let me tell you, there is nothing like having 500 gallons of water dumped on you, it's traumatizing, and yet a very thrilling experience.
Since the bucket was still filling, Acacia and I cavorted about, playing in the fountains and jets, and going down one of the slides. It was kind of fun, but what I really wanted to do was be under that bucket! Eventually, when it looked like the bucket was reaching its peak, we stood under it, joined by other park goers. See, every time the bucket gets ready to empty itself, a large gathering of people starts to form underneath it, reminding me of in a strange way of a religious cult. It's the way they all stand, perfectly still, eyes cast toward their deity, The Bucket. Acacia and I stood in the very center of this congregation of The Church of the Bucket.
After a long wait (which we endured by running under the little waterfalls that happened to be nearby) the bucket finally unleashed it's five hundred gallons of aquatic rage. The water came down on us in a violent torrent, knocking my glasses off to the side of my head. I clung to Acacia, the two of us screaming Hetalia references at the top of our lungs. While the duration of the epic soaking may last only a few seconds, it does feel like forever, and we were right in the thick of it, so we bore the brunt of The Bucket's fury. It was surreal, being engulfed and trapped in this strange watery cocoon, unable to move. When it was over, I fixed my glasses and checked my jewelry to see if any of it had been torn off by the force of the water. Luckily, it had not and Acacia and I wrung ourselves out, then decided to visit the Lumberjack Splash Wavepool. A wave pool, is essentially a giant swimming pool, with waves created by a machine. Set at times intervals, they;re supposed to simulate waves in the ocean. The first time I entered this wave pool, at the tender age of 11, I nearly drowned, because I was not a strong swimmer and the waves were too big for me. A life guard had seen me struggling, but made no moves to help me.
Now that I was older I feared this wave pool less, though I still fear drowning (since I have nearly drowned several times in my life, I think this phobia is rational). Acacia and I waded in, just as the waves were starting. We went out as far as we could go, where the waves were the highest and fiercest. Unafraid, I threw myself into the waves, stood in the face of them and let them rock me. I wished I had an inner tube so I could ride them, but I still enjoyed the feeling of the water cradling me, like being wrapped in the arms of a great sea goddess .It's almost as good as being in the ocean. Then, as the waves began to die down, it was almost relaxing. When they were completely gone, and pool became just like any regular pool, Acacia and I paddled around for a bit, then decided it was time to leave Splashwater Kingdom. We were cooled off sufficiently and wanted to go back to the rest of the park, to enjoy the thrills offered there.
I warn you, the next installment, might take me awhile. My memory is fuzzed up again, and I am unable to get the chronological stuff in order. But bear with me, and thanks for reading.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
The Great Escape Part 6
This is the final chapter of my second memoir. Have you noticed all my little memoirs are about visiting amusement parks? Maybe I should find another memoir subject...
Part 6: A Lasting Impression
Our trip to the Great Escape was almost over. We had a few more rides to go on, and then we would take our leave, ending one of the most exciting days of my young life.
As I've mentioned multiple times, while I remember most of what I did during this day, I do not remember the chronological order. I do not know if I went on the Alpine before the Comet, or if I rode the Raging River before or after either of those rides. But since I've already described the former two rides to you, I will now bore you with a brief summary of the first time I rode the Raging River, before I finish this tale altogether.
The Raging River, is a river rafting ride that is commonly found at most amusement parks. Six riders sit in a circular raft, safely cradled in high-backed seats. Restraints generally consist of seat belts, and riders can hold onto a large ring in the center of the craft. Since it's essentially controlled white water rafting, you will get very wet.
I remember the line was very long, because it is one of those extended wait rides. Whoever planned the layout of the park must have anticipated this, for there were vending machines, and a snack bar set up in the line, so one could get some snacks to keep themselves busy, or stave off hunger pain as we wait over an hour for a ride that only takes like ten minutes.
As we got further in line, we found ourselves standing on a bridge over the artificial river. From our vantage point, we could get a good look at riders sailing out in their rafts, as well as people squirting water at them from coin-operated water guns, set up on the cement walls that keep guests from falling in the river. Park goers idling along the hard blacktop could pay a few coins and torment people on The Raging River, if they so desired. I find this to be a rather obnoxious and malicious form of entertainment if you ask me. Most of the people who take advantage of these squirt guns are young immature boys aged 8 to 15. Those in the rafts usually retaliate against these hooligans with a few choice words and certain gesture involving the middle finger.
One of the interesting things about this ride is the fact that the river and it's rafts are kept moving by a gigantic wooden wheel. In the center of this wheel is a cement block with a wall of cubbies where riders can keep their belongings.
When it was our turn, we walked off a ramp that arched over the wheel (if I recall correctly, which I'm not sure I do) and onto the cement center to store our things. Then in order to get to our perpetually moving rafts, we had to walk onto the wheel itself. The planks were a little slippery and it was a little strange walking on something that was moving (though if you kept moving you wouldn't really feel it). The edge of the wheel was covered in black rubber.
All three of the adults were to go in one raft, and all four of us kids were to ride in another. The rafts can hold up to six people, but since there were seven of us, the only sensible solution was to split the kids and the adults. Awkwardly, I climbed into the wet raft with my sister and cousins, hoping not to sit in a puddle of water.
The ride started out agonizingly slow, pushed along by the wheel, until it dropped onto the river course. As we went under the bridge where people stood waiting in line, we probably got squirted at by people with those cursed coin-operated water guns.
I remember being very excited to be on this ride, as it sped up and started cresting the swells. However, the excitement soon turned to panic. You see, at one point the ride was stopped by two metal bars that sprang up from the bottom of canal. I'm sure there was a good reason for us to stop, but I do not know what it could be, not even today. Usually though, the pause is very brief, less than a minute, but somehow it was delayed, and we were stuck! Our raft began to list to one side, obviously starting to sink. I was certainly frightened, and I am sure the others were too, but before it got any worse, the bars moved, and we were released. It was a very lucky thing too, because people have died on this kind of ride, when the raft flips over or sinks. They drown, for they are trapped by the very seat belts that were supposed to keep them safe, or they cannot get out from under the heavy raft. It is a disturbing, to think of the horror the victims of these accidents must have felt before they died.
After that ordeal, the ride was very enjoyable. We got splashed by waterfalls, and water sloshed over the sides of the black and yellow raft, getting us drenched. I didn't get as wet as my sister and cousins did if I recall, but I think I got soaked pretty decently.
The ride ended when it was pulled up a conveyor belt, returning our raft to the great wheel (Sounds slightly symbolic doesn't it?). One or two ride attendants stopped the raft so we could climb out, and let the next group of riders board.
Now that we've finished our interlude with The Raging River, I suppose I can end this long-winded story once and for all. We ended our day in the park in The Old West themed section of the park, where we rode The Desperado Plunge a second time (though this time I think I insisted on sitting in the back where the water couldn't splash me too badly.) After we rode that, my cousins and I rode the Condor at least two or three times. I seemed to have forgotten that earlier that day the ride traumatized me completely. I am terrified of heights, especially if I'm dangling inside a bird shaped capsule that lacks a seat belt. I can ride roller coasters, I can ride 192 foot towers that drop you at startling speeds, but for the love of God, I can NOT ride the Condor or any ride similar to it. Maybe it's the way those capsules have a terrible habit of swaying and squeaking in such a way that it makes me think the whole fucking thing will break off, leaving me plummeting to a messy death. But I still rode the damn thing three or four times that day, the only good part this last ride being the sunset. After all, who doesn't enjoy a good sunset?
Afterwards, we left the park, watching the place shut down. Amusement parks at closing are creepy places you know, the ghosts of the park begin to wander in that eerie twilight, the rides are silent and sad, and the animals in the petting zoo are left to their own devices. I often wonder where those creatures live during the off-season.
To leave the park, one must pass through the gift shop, a delicious marketing ploy in my opinion. Inside it was crowded with people, and we took a moment to admire the merchandise, but we did not buy anything.
I remember very little of the ride home. At one point, we stopped in downtown Lake George to eat dinner. We had McDonald's and I remember that the fries were very hard and crispy. In my Happy Meal, I got one of those plastic mini Barbie dolls that they sometimes dole out. It was her 'little sister' Kelly, in a little swing set. There was a little tab you could use to push her back and forth. Still high from my first encounter with the world of thrill rides (Well, technically my second, since I DID attend the Addison County Fair when I was four), I pretended that the swing was some kind of amusement park ride.
After eating, we wandered downtown Lake George, why I did not know. The streets were alive with tourists. There were vendors selling coke bottles filled with colored sand, and those foam animals that you could suspend from a wire, making them appear to levitate (I think I had owned one of those once, but by this point in time it was long gone). We stopped in an arcade, where my sister and uncle (we had long since separated from my aunt Amy and the cousins) played with a robotic hen that laid eggs filled with prizes. I got an egg that contained a little cheap plastic car, I do not know what happened to it. The arcade was strange and a little scary to me, for it was dimly lit and filled with strangers, and I wanted nothing more than to get out of there.
We drove out of Lake George, and I noticed as we left, a small amusement park, still lit up. It amazed me that one town could have so many attractions. Besides the Great Escape, Lake George also offered a wax museum, at least two other small amusement parks, and outlet mall, a large mini golf course and a water park.
I stared at that glittering park, looking sparkling and lovely. It looked safe and happy. I particularly remember seeing a ride with cars shaped like hot air balloons. Innocently, I asked if what I was seeing was another amusement park.
"No, it's a birthday party, all for one little boy," My sister said sarcastically. She did that to me a lot, at that age her wit could be quite rude and barbed. Actually, it still is and she is still quite sarcastic with me.
Even though I didn't always get sarcasm, I knew she was lying to me. I knew no one would buy out an entire amusement park for one birthday boy or girl. Well, at the time I thought no one would do that. But we are currently living in decadent times, I imagine there are a few millionaires willing to blow their money on a spoiled child by renting an entire amusement park for the kid's birthday.
The ride home was long. I dozed in the back seat, visions of brightly colored lights and rides filling my head each time I closed my eyes. It had been one of the best days of my life, a day I would never completely forget, even though a few details have escaped my memory.
I don't remember getting home, I honestly don't. It was probably very late, and I was most likely half asleep. The long exciting adventure was over and although it was nearly eleven years ago, it has left a lasting impression on me.
The End
This is the second memoir I've written on this blog. I've got one more to finish. Will I write any more? And will I write any that aren't about going to amusement parks?
Part 6: A Lasting Impression
Our trip to the Great Escape was almost over. We had a few more rides to go on, and then we would take our leave, ending one of the most exciting days of my young life.
As I've mentioned multiple times, while I remember most of what I did during this day, I do not remember the chronological order. I do not know if I went on the Alpine before the Comet, or if I rode the Raging River before or after either of those rides. But since I've already described the former two rides to you, I will now bore you with a brief summary of the first time I rode the Raging River, before I finish this tale altogether.
The Raging River, is a river rafting ride that is commonly found at most amusement parks. Six riders sit in a circular raft, safely cradled in high-backed seats. Restraints generally consist of seat belts, and riders can hold onto a large ring in the center of the craft. Since it's essentially controlled white water rafting, you will get very wet.
I remember the line was very long, because it is one of those extended wait rides. Whoever planned the layout of the park must have anticipated this, for there were vending machines, and a snack bar set up in the line, so one could get some snacks to keep themselves busy, or stave off hunger pain as we wait over an hour for a ride that only takes like ten minutes.
As we got further in line, we found ourselves standing on a bridge over the artificial river. From our vantage point, we could get a good look at riders sailing out in their rafts, as well as people squirting water at them from coin-operated water guns, set up on the cement walls that keep guests from falling in the river. Park goers idling along the hard blacktop could pay a few coins and torment people on The Raging River, if they so desired. I find this to be a rather obnoxious and malicious form of entertainment if you ask me. Most of the people who take advantage of these squirt guns are young immature boys aged 8 to 15. Those in the rafts usually retaliate against these hooligans with a few choice words and certain gesture involving the middle finger.
One of the interesting things about this ride is the fact that the river and it's rafts are kept moving by a gigantic wooden wheel. In the center of this wheel is a cement block with a wall of cubbies where riders can keep their belongings.
When it was our turn, we walked off a ramp that arched over the wheel (if I recall correctly, which I'm not sure I do) and onto the cement center to store our things. Then in order to get to our perpetually moving rafts, we had to walk onto the wheel itself. The planks were a little slippery and it was a little strange walking on something that was moving (though if you kept moving you wouldn't really feel it). The edge of the wheel was covered in black rubber.
All three of the adults were to go in one raft, and all four of us kids were to ride in another. The rafts can hold up to six people, but since there were seven of us, the only sensible solution was to split the kids and the adults. Awkwardly, I climbed into the wet raft with my sister and cousins, hoping not to sit in a puddle of water.
The ride started out agonizingly slow, pushed along by the wheel, until it dropped onto the river course. As we went under the bridge where people stood waiting in line, we probably got squirted at by people with those cursed coin-operated water guns.
I remember being very excited to be on this ride, as it sped up and started cresting the swells. However, the excitement soon turned to panic. You see, at one point the ride was stopped by two metal bars that sprang up from the bottom of canal. I'm sure there was a good reason for us to stop, but I do not know what it could be, not even today. Usually though, the pause is very brief, less than a minute, but somehow it was delayed, and we were stuck! Our raft began to list to one side, obviously starting to sink. I was certainly frightened, and I am sure the others were too, but before it got any worse, the bars moved, and we were released. It was a very lucky thing too, because people have died on this kind of ride, when the raft flips over or sinks. They drown, for they are trapped by the very seat belts that were supposed to keep them safe, or they cannot get out from under the heavy raft. It is a disturbing, to think of the horror the victims of these accidents must have felt before they died.
After that ordeal, the ride was very enjoyable. We got splashed by waterfalls, and water sloshed over the sides of the black and yellow raft, getting us drenched. I didn't get as wet as my sister and cousins did if I recall, but I think I got soaked pretty decently.
The ride ended when it was pulled up a conveyor belt, returning our raft to the great wheel (Sounds slightly symbolic doesn't it?). One or two ride attendants stopped the raft so we could climb out, and let the next group of riders board.
Now that we've finished our interlude with The Raging River, I suppose I can end this long-winded story once and for all. We ended our day in the park in The Old West themed section of the park, where we rode The Desperado Plunge a second time (though this time I think I insisted on sitting in the back where the water couldn't splash me too badly.) After we rode that, my cousins and I rode the Condor at least two or three times. I seemed to have forgotten that earlier that day the ride traumatized me completely. I am terrified of heights, especially if I'm dangling inside a bird shaped capsule that lacks a seat belt. I can ride roller coasters, I can ride 192 foot towers that drop you at startling speeds, but for the love of God, I can NOT ride the Condor or any ride similar to it. Maybe it's the way those capsules have a terrible habit of swaying and squeaking in such a way that it makes me think the whole fucking thing will break off, leaving me plummeting to a messy death. But I still rode the damn thing three or four times that day, the only good part this last ride being the sunset. After all, who doesn't enjoy a good sunset?
Afterwards, we left the park, watching the place shut down. Amusement parks at closing are creepy places you know, the ghosts of the park begin to wander in that eerie twilight, the rides are silent and sad, and the animals in the petting zoo are left to their own devices. I often wonder where those creatures live during the off-season.
To leave the park, one must pass through the gift shop, a delicious marketing ploy in my opinion. Inside it was crowded with people, and we took a moment to admire the merchandise, but we did not buy anything.
I remember very little of the ride home. At one point, we stopped in downtown Lake George to eat dinner. We had McDonald's and I remember that the fries were very hard and crispy. In my Happy Meal, I got one of those plastic mini Barbie dolls that they sometimes dole out. It was her 'little sister' Kelly, in a little swing set. There was a little tab you could use to push her back and forth. Still high from my first encounter with the world of thrill rides (Well, technically my second, since I DID attend the Addison County Fair when I was four), I pretended that the swing was some kind of amusement park ride.
After eating, we wandered downtown Lake George, why I did not know. The streets were alive with tourists. There were vendors selling coke bottles filled with colored sand, and those foam animals that you could suspend from a wire, making them appear to levitate (I think I had owned one of those once, but by this point in time it was long gone). We stopped in an arcade, where my sister and uncle (we had long since separated from my aunt Amy and the cousins) played with a robotic hen that laid eggs filled with prizes. I got an egg that contained a little cheap plastic car, I do not know what happened to it. The arcade was strange and a little scary to me, for it was dimly lit and filled with strangers, and I wanted nothing more than to get out of there.
We drove out of Lake George, and I noticed as we left, a small amusement park, still lit up. It amazed me that one town could have so many attractions. Besides the Great Escape, Lake George also offered a wax museum, at least two other small amusement parks, and outlet mall, a large mini golf course and a water park.
I stared at that glittering park, looking sparkling and lovely. It looked safe and happy. I particularly remember seeing a ride with cars shaped like hot air balloons. Innocently, I asked if what I was seeing was another amusement park.
"No, it's a birthday party, all for one little boy," My sister said sarcastically. She did that to me a lot, at that age her wit could be quite rude and barbed. Actually, it still is and she is still quite sarcastic with me.
Even though I didn't always get sarcasm, I knew she was lying to me. I knew no one would buy out an entire amusement park for one birthday boy or girl. Well, at the time I thought no one would do that. But we are currently living in decadent times, I imagine there are a few millionaires willing to blow their money on a spoiled child by renting an entire amusement park for the kid's birthday.
The ride home was long. I dozed in the back seat, visions of brightly colored lights and rides filling my head each time I closed my eyes. It had been one of the best days of my life, a day I would never completely forget, even though a few details have escaped my memory.
I don't remember getting home, I honestly don't. It was probably very late, and I was most likely half asleep. The long exciting adventure was over and although it was nearly eleven years ago, it has left a lasting impression on me.
The End
This is the second memoir I've written on this blog. I've got one more to finish. Will I write any more? And will I write any that aren't about going to amusement parks?
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