Fox and Squirrel Pt. 10

This may or may not be the last chapter of my most self-indulgent memoir ever. I don't know. As always though, my memory might be hazy, and I may not get everything in linear order.

Part 10: A Disturbing and Tacky Little Tableau
Right after we left The Steamin' Demon we wandered around a little bit. I noticed, set up around the arcade, were a bunch of coin-operated barrels, which would vibrate and bounce up and down. Being an immature git, I had a few crude thoughts about the vibrating barrels.
I also noticed a statue of a grizzled old miner. You could sit on his lap and have your photo taken. I briefly considered having Acacia take a photo of me with this statue, for a lark, but I decided against it. I thought it would waste precious time we could be spending on rides.

We decided to ride an old favorite of mine, The Desperado Plunge. That's right, friends and neighbors, they changed the ride back to it's original name! It was briefly called The Poland Springs Plunge, for obvious marketing reasons. But now it's back to its maiden name, why I do not know.
The line was relatively short, compared to the first time I rode it, back in 1999. We were behind some people, who I found to be rather obnoxious and poorly educated. You've probably noticed by now, that I can be quite judgmental.
While we were waiting, we somehow ended up cutting in front of these idiots. If I remember correctly, when the line moved, they were too busy yammering away to notice. They were holding up the line, so Acacia and I moved in front of them, I felt bad about doing so, but then I figured, you snooze you lose. They probably would have done the same thing to us.
Our stuff was already neatly put away in little cubbies, which, rather than being next to the area where riders board and exit, were right next to the line. They created a little divider between the line and the exit, so that when you left the ride, you could grab them without a fuss.

Our turn came very quickly, thanks to cutting those idiots in line. Our barrel-shaped, aquatic chariot floated up to us, the brown vinyl seats splattered with water. That's the one thing I hate about log flumes and river rapid rides, is that the seats are always wet.
Acacia graciously let me have the back compartment, where one is less likely to get splashed, and she took the front. There aren't any seat belts on this ride, despite it's steep drop. There are however, handles that one can hold onto during any rough parts of the ride.

The gate holding us back lifted, and the current swept us out of the station (perhaps with the aid of some gears and motors). The ride moved gently, bumping along the sides of the canal.
Then, it was lifted uphill by way of conveyor belt (a part I hate, because, despite the rubber coating in the conveyor belt, I always feel like the little boat is slipping backwards), to be released onto some rapids. The ride is faster and bumpier at this point, going down little dips. Water splashes up over the sides, soaking riders.
Also at this point during the ride, one notices the park's outskirts, a lot like a junkyard, where one can see the remains of old rides, rusting for all eternity. The Rainbow was there, it's lights gone, only a heap of unloved machinery. I pointed it out to Acacia, and told her how much I hate seeing the outskirts of the park.

I was enjoying the ride, until we entered the weird building which looks like a warehouse. That's the building which has The Great Escape sign painted on it's side (facing towards traffic), as well as a bunch of creepy dummies inside, which are supposed to be loggers. Those dummies have always disturbed me, because, let's face it, mannequins are creepy as fuck.
I looked around boldly, challenging my fear. I also remarked that the musty smell reminded of The Shelburne Museum. Then, came the part of the ride I dread. Right before the drop, above the rider's head are two sinister dummies. One of them is attached to a spinning log, seemingly in danger, reaching out towards the riders below him. The other is an equally terrified looking fellow, tangled in ropes, reaching out to the dummy stuck on the log. It's a disturbing and tacky little tableau. I had been hoping they had removed these chaps, but my hopes were dashed.

Right before we went down the drop, I looked to my left and noticed an employee, sitting on a chair. Why was he there? What was the point of sitting in that creepy, musty little building all day, with those fucked up dummies? I would hate that job, having to sit right in front those two creepy mannequins, watching people plummet down a hill, day in and day out.
We greeted the man, which I imagine most people don't do (I think it's the guys job to tell people to hold on tight or something like that). Then our little boat tipped down hill.
The drop was not as steep as I remembered, nor was the splash as big. It came up over the sides, but it barely touched me. It probably splashed Acacia a little more, though, seeing as she sat in the front.
The boat floated into the station and we got off the ride. When we went to collect our things, I was treated to a shock. My coke cup was gone! Someone had taken it, and thrown it out! I don't know who did it, if it was an employee, or if the people we had cut in line took their revenge on us by tossing my soda cup. Maybe someone had just decided to be a dick and throw it out, or they knocked it over. But it was gone. There had only been ice in it, but I was still highly offended that someone would be rude enough to throw it out while we were on the ride. It makes me think, if someone can just go into one of the cubbies and throw out someone else's drink cup, what's to stop them from going through that person's belongings and stealing?

I was still seething when we went to the photo counter to see the picture of us going down the hill. I can't remember what we looked like nor did we buy the picture, simply because we didn't have the money to spare.

We decided to ride The Canyon Blaster, which is a mild roller coaster marketed as "a family coaster". I was convinced that this was going to be our last ride of the day, based off of the information I'd heard about the park closing at seven. The park employee who had told us this had been wrong. The park closed at eight PM, whereas just Splashwater Kingdom closed at seven. But at the time, I didn't know that. I was convinced that, since it was so close to seven, that this was our last thrill before retreating home to Vermont.
The line was very short, so we had to do a lot of running to get to the end of it. While we were running, a group of fourteen year old boys cut in front of us. I expressed my frustration, and the woman operating the ride noticed what had occurred. She scolded the boys, and let us cut in front of them! I felt bad about it actually, having to cut in front of these boys. The whole thing wasn't a big deal after all.
But neither Acacia nor I said anything, and awkwardly cut in front of the boys. They apologized to us for cutting, (even though technically they had just passed by us while we were running) and I wanted to apologize for our being allowed to cut them. I had feared they would be rude to us because of the ride operator's decision, but that was not the case. They bore us no ill will, and even conversed with us briefly.

Acacia and I decided we would sit at the front of the roller coaster. I've only sat at the front of a coaster once before. It was at Hershey Park in 2007, on a coaster very similar to The Canyon Blaster. Briefly, I felt bad about choosing the front, wondering if the young men we'd cut had wanted the prize seats. But I wanted to sit there, and after putting our stuff away, we did just that, buckling ourselves in and lowering the lap bar.
The ride operator asked us if we were ready, to which we responded with a joyous shout. This response wasn't good enough for her though, because she demanded that we scream louder, before starting the ride.
The coaster was fun, but not nearly as fast or wild as the other coasters we had ridden that day. It had some some dips, some sharp turns and even went through a tunnel, but it just wasn't as fierce as The Boomerang or The Comet. When the ride stopped suddenly, my breasts and stomach made painful contact with the lap bar.

The day was getting close to ending. We decided there was still time for a few last rides though, and made our way back into Story Town, though not through the tunnel. We wandered the area, wondering what to ride next. Acacia suggested The Grand Carousel but I didn't want to ride that. I had never ridden the Swan Boats before, so I suggested we ride those instead. This ride consists of several swan shaped boats that tour around the park. By the time we got there though, the only operating boat was already about to disembark, with only a small family aboard. Though there was room for Acacia and I on the boat, we were still left behind. It was going to be a long wait until their ride would be over and there wasn't another boat or operator available. We tried waiting, but became very frustrated and decided to ride something else. I was disappointed, but did not want to waste time by waiting.
We went into the Fest Area and decided to ride The Sky Ride. It's a ride a lot like a ski lift, with little brightly colored gondolas which move slowly along a cable. The ride offers a birds eye view of the park and is very slow and gentle.
We got in line, which wasn't very long. The boarding station looks like a stereotypical Arabian palace, straight out of Aladdin, painted white, gold and purple. When it was our turn, we stood on a yellow line, waiting for our little gondola to come up behind us. When it bumped up against us, we sat down, then lowered the lap bar. When the ride is operating, the cable never stops moving, so the gondolas are always circulating. The gondola ride at Hershey Park does not do this. It stops every time some gets on or off the ride, leaving people dangling in mid-air. It is not a pleasant experience, especially if the kids in front of you are swinging their gondola back and forth, making the entire cable tremble. Luckily, I have never experienced this at the Great Escape. Also, it's verboten to make your gondola swing back and forth on their Sky Ride.

I don't remember what color our gondola was. It may have been orange. The ride was slow, and so relaxing, it was verging on the side of boring. Below us, a bunch of employees in Looney Tunes costumes danced to The Six Flags theme song. Other employees joined them, and even a few guests danced along. It was their end-of-the-day ritual, a signal to park goers that the day was ending, and the park would be closing soon. Acacia and I boogied in our little gondola, careful not to shake it too much.
The ride was very long. We spent it, not only dancing, but talking very seriously, about subjects I can't recall. I was feeling tired, and I wanted to get off the ride.

The worst part about The Sky Ride is when your gondola switches cables, so it can return to the station. This part of the ride is in an isolated part of the park, surrounded by trees. Usually, I hate this part the most of all, and feel so uncomfortable, but this time it wasn't so bad. Why? Because I saw a squirrel, running around in the woods below us, probably looking for scraps. Wild animals often live in or near parks, because the smells of food and trash attract them. Seeing the squirrel made me happy, during a part of the ride that usually makes me feel uncomfortable and even scared.
The final half of the ride was less than pleasant to me. I felt anxious to get off, partly because I wanted to join in the festivities below, and also because the tweens sitting behind us we're annoying me. I can't remember why, but they were.

When we got off the ride, I found that my legs were in excruciating pain. They had this heavy ache, which made walking difficult. Even though I had been walking around all day, they did not begin to ache until I had gotten off the Sky Ride. I thought maybe the length of the ride, or even the way I was sitting may have caused it. I just don't know.
Right next to The Sky Ride, were the swings, which go by the name The Flying Trapeze. We decided to ride them, making it our official last ride of the day.

Fox and Squirrel Pt. 9

And now, more of my longest most self-indulgent memoir ever written! I got my information on the parks history from themeparks.lovetoknow.com and wikipedia.

Part 9: This is Probably a Bad Time to Tell You I'm Pregnant
We wandered around the Fest Area, which is the section of park that boasts classic amusement park rides and games. Like many amusement parks, the Great Escape is divided into themed sections. I would like to take a moment to describe the different sections of the park to you, and discuss a brief history of The Great Escape as well.
First there is the little International Village at the park entrance. Designed to mimic a little Bavarian village, it mainly features gift shops, stroller rentals and park information. It's pretty but boring, seeing as it doesn't have any rides.
Then there is Storytown, which is the oldest part of the park, being 56 years old. The Great Escape was originally called Storytown USA, a Mother Goose themed amusement park that had been built in 1954. It had little child-sized buildings straight out of beloved nursery rhymes and fairy tales. It built up over the years, until it became The Great Escape in 1983. Storytown, is now the fairytale themed section of the park, featuring a beautiful river, rides, places to eat, games and shows. It's one of my favorite parts of the park. Those little child sized buildings are still standing too, though they're a little careworn.

Another section of the park is Ghost Town, which is the wild west themed part of the park. It was also a part of the original Storytown USA; it was created in 1957 when the owner, Charles Wood realized his park was only entertaining to little kids. It has some wild west themed rides, restaurants and shows as well as some arcade games.
Splashwater Kingdom is yet another section, a world of it's own. I think you know what part of the park it is by now, if you've read my last three or four entries. It's theme is varied, parts of it are tropical, parts of it have a Paul Bunyan theme. In proximity to Splashwater is a picnic area called the North Woods Picnic Grove. Large groups accumulate here for picnics, even though outside food is banned (Perhaps The Great Escape provides catering? I know Hershey's Chocolate World does). During October, it becomes a Haunted House, one which I almost went in one year, but the line was way too long. One day, I'll go in.
The Fest Area is supposed to be like your classic amusement park, with a Bavarian theme. I have noticed that a lot of amusement parks like to use the whole Bavarian fest theme, but I am not sure why. It has classic rides and games, lots of food and even a bungee jump ride, which costs 45 bucks for one rider, 50 for two and 60 for three. The fest area is the largest part of the park and features the most rides.

At The Great Escape, there are also sections of the park designated specifically for young children. The first of these is Looney Tunes National Park. The theme is quite obviously centered around the classic cartoon and major franchise, with kiddie rides based off of the characters. Looney Tunes National Park replaced Jungleland, which was a Jungle themed section created in 1960. It didn't really have much except a zoo, and a really cool Jungle Walk, which had fake animals peeping out of foliage and wobbly rope bridges. When they demolished Jungleland and made it into LTNP, they kept the Jungle Walk, but made it into some kind of Bugs Bunny walk. I wandered into this section of the park out of curiosity, once in 2005. I found it bright, colorful and rather tacky, to be honest.
The second section designated for ankle biters is Wiggles World. The Wiggles are a musical group just for little kids, in the same vein as Raffi. Parents blow all their money to bring their precious little babes to the band's concerts and to buy the albums, all for varying excuses. Some of these excuses could be honorable, though I think most people's intentions are less kid-oriented, and geared more towards one upping all the other parents in the "Who is the Number 1 Parent?" contest. Either way, in the end, the parents usually end up enjoying the cheerful demented music far more than the child ever does.
So The Great Escape cashed in on this franchise in 2008, creating a bright, psychedelic haven for little kids to play in, so that they could enjoy the park just as much as the older folks can. (Though I reflect now, that there are more kiddie rides than thrill rides at most fairs and theme parks). Wiggles World is the smallest park section, with only three rides and one restaurant. I've never personally explored it, though I walked past it during my most recent Great Escape trip.

Now that I have bored you sufficiently with a tangent of useless trivia and details, let me continue on with the true story. We were in the fest area, as I mentioned much earlier, and were trying to see how many rides we could possibly get on. I was extremely picky. After riding roller coasters and other extreme rides, I was craving an intense thrill. We chose a classic, The Cannonball Express, which is a Himalaya ride. I love Himalayas, I've loved them since I was ten. The Himalaya at the Great Escape has a funky disco theme. Usually, they play music to accompany you as you ride. But this time, there was no music.

Without the music, the ride wasn't as fun. Music adds to the pleasure of the ride. You don't necessarily need it, but it makes the experience a lot more exciting. When it comes to thrill rides, music adds to the sensory experience. I have noticed this is especially so with Himalayas and scramblers, but I have not figured out a reason yet.
The ride went fast, but not fast enough, nor did it last as long as I had hoped. Like I said, without the music it didn't satisfy as well as it could of. Anyway, I liked the Cannonball Express a lot less since they stopped making it go backwards. When I first rode it 1o or 11 years ago, it used to go backwards and forwards, but sometime in 2000/2001 they abruptly stopped the practice, probably because some idiot injured themselves.

After we got off The Cannonball express, we decided to ride The Blizzard. The Blizzard is a scrambler ride which is painted light blue, with a snowflake motif. There used to be a scrambler called the Magical Mystery Ride, which was housed inside a large green dome. In those days, it was painted bright orange, and spun you about in the dark, music and strobe lights adding to the fun. But sometime between 2004 and 2005, it was shut down and now there is a scrambler in the same area where the Flying Elephants ride used to stand.
Most scramblers are fast and furious, but this one was not going fast enough. This is the second time in the past two years I have gotten on a scrambler and found that it went unbearably slow. This usually occurs when kids are riding, probably because the ride operator doesn't want them to be too scared or get sick. Scramblers are supposed to go fast, that is why they are called scramblers. Their speed, combined with the circular motion is supposed to leave you disoriented and well, scrambled. Making the ride slow is, in a way, like castrating a bull. It takes out all the fire, all the fun. The bull becomes fat and docile, and the ride becomes dull.

After we exited the disappointing ride (I thought it was so, I do not remember how my companion felt about riding it), we went through the Alice In Wonderland Adventure. It's basically a walk-through, as opposed to a ride, loosely based of off the Disney cartoon (not the fantastic Tim Burton version of Alice). It's a part of the original Storytown USA, having been built in 1960.
We started our Alice Adventure by entering a giant hole in a tree, and walking through a bizarre red and black striped tunnel. Then we found ourselves in a room where all the furniture is three times bigger than you are. This room is actually very creepy, because it's so dusty and the lighting is bad. I usually want to get out as soon as possible.
At some point during the walk-through, we saw Alice's giant legs sticking out of a house (for some reason I just love that imagery). Also featured were The Hatter, giant mushrooms, flowers and blades of grass and the soldiers made of cards. I'm afraid I didn't pay a lot of attention, because I was too busy thinking of how much time we had left in the park. I was also distracted by the high-pitched whine of the child ahead of us throwing an epic hissy fit.

When we left the Alice Adventure, we had decided to ride the Sasquatch again. Our reasoning was that the park was probably going to close soon (it actually was not) and that we might as well squeeze in one more good ride. So we made our way back to the great towers and decided to ride the second tower, as opposed to the one we had ridden earlier that day. While we were getting in line however, a group of boys jumped in front of us, cutting us in line. We had been following the rules and not jumping over the line railings, but these little bastards disregarded that rule and us. When we voiced our displeasure, they behaved disrespectfully towards us. Then the two of us launched into a rant about how rude kids are. I am of the solid opinion, that most of today's youth are nothing but a bunch of spoiled, degenerate assholes. I know, it is odd hearing a 21 year old woman, still so young herself, say such a thing, but I stand by my opinion.
We were cut in front of twice while waiting for that ride. The first time was non-consensual, but the second time we let some kids go in front of us on the grounds that their group was going to leave the park in a few minutes and they wanted to ride The Sasquatch before they left. For all I know, they could of been lying, but we gave them the benefit of the doubt.

The second time we rode the Sasquatch was not as fun as the first. It shot up to the top of the tower, just like the last time, but this time, it seemed that we stayed up there for an eternity. We could hear the ride operator over the intercom above our seats, asking us if we were ready. Yes! Yes, we were! So let's get it over with!
When it finally did drop, I felt sick to my stomach. It didn't feel as exhilarating as it did the first time. In fact, it was actually a bit frightening this time. I do not know why this was so.
We got off the Sasquatch, and decided that it was high time to get some funnel cake. I love funnel cake. It's like a fancy version of fry bread, and is often served with powdered sugar or even soft serve ice cream. They are usually found at theme parks and festivals, like most other tasty artery clogging snacks.
I bought a funnel cake and a coke for Acacia and I to share. The whole thing cost around eleven dollars. It never ceases to amaze me, just how ludicrously expensive amusement park food is. But what choice does one have? Sometimes, you just have to have a funnel cake. People will pay these exorbitant prices, because they love the delicious unhealthy treats sold at theme parks and because Americans in general just love spending their cash. We're addicted to consumerism. We'll bitch and moan about the expense, but we will pay anyway, simply because that's how we're programmed.

We sat down on a bench and ate the hot funnel cake, powdered sugar dusting our chests and grease coating our fingertips. It was very delicious. Funnel cake is slightly crunchier than fry bread (fried dough), possibly because of it's shape. I enjoy this texture difference very much. As much as I love my fry bread (and trust me, I love my fry bread), I actually prefer funnel cake, especially with vanilla soft serve as a topping. Whoever decided that hot fried dough and cold sweet ice cream go good together should be given a Nobel prize.
When we finished eating, we stood up, brushed the powdered sugar off of our chests, wiped our hands off and decided what to do next. As we did so, I joked that the sugar on my chest looked like cocaine.
"Looks like I did a lot of blow," I had said.
We has decided to go into Ghost Town, and see if we could squeeze in any more rides (there was still some concern over when the park would close). So we tossed our trash, and made our way to the rock tunnel that connects Ghost Town to Story Town.

The tunnel was the same as ever, though it was not as cool (temperature wise) as I remembered. The gum was still stuck to the ceiling, though. When we passed the window with the waterfall, I stuck my hand under the water, which by this time of the day was lukewarm. Families with screaming, bawling kids walked past us, headed in the opposite direction. The tunnel was much longer than I remembered.
On the other side, Ghost Town lived up to it's moniker. It was quite empty, only a few people milling around. It was a little drab and boring compared to the rest of the park and didn't have a lot of rides. It has in total, four rides, I think. It used to have five but, The Nightmare roller coaster shut down for some mysterious reason. I always wanted to ride that, but never got to. The line was always too long. It also used to have an old-timey train ride, but I think that was closed down before I even started going to the Great Escape.
We bypassed The Condor, the "family thrill ride" which has traumatized me so many times and went straight for The Steamin' Demon roller coaster, which I hadn't ridden in ten years, not since my very first trip to the Great Escape.
The line for the coaster was rather short. It was nearing the end of the day, and there were much less people at the park, so the lines to rides were shorter
Our turn arrived, and we sat in my usual spot, in the middle, slightly near the back. We stored our glasses in the cubbies, buckled in and pulled the shoulder restraints down. I was only slightly nervous, not having ridden this coaster in ten long years, but willing do it, still high from the adrenaline rush of The Sasquatch and The Comet.

Like the Comet, this steel coaster started out slowly, staying low to the ground, before climbing up a steep hill. During our ascent, I turned to Acacia and said jokingly, loud enough for the other riders to hear:
"This is probably a bad time to tell you I'm pregnant,"
I don't rightly remember her reaction, but I do remember telling her that I love the idea of telling someone that you're pregnant, while riding a roller coaster. I've decided that every time I ride a roller coaster, I'm going to turn to the person next to me, and tell them that I am expecting.
At the top of the hill, instead of dropping right away, we made a sharp turn which led us to a very steep drop. We plummeted down the hill, then before we could fathom what was happening we were going through a loop, then several corkscrew turns. The Steamin' Demon is very fast and disorienting in this way. The ride isn't very long, but it's very exciting.
When we returned to the station, the ride operator didn't stop the ride or anything, he actually let us go through a second time! This happens rarely in the world of amusement parks, usually because of long lines, but here we were being given a twofer!
The second time around was just as fun, but this time, I noticed that during the corkscrew turns, my head would knock into the sides of the shoulder restraints, boxing my ears painfully. But I endured this as gracefully as I could, if one can be graceful while riding a roller coaster.
When we got off the ride, we got right back in line, to ride it all over again. Once on the ride, we made the usual jokes about being pregnant on roller coaster ("though not for long" I added). Also, during this ride, I experienced another painful ear boxing at the hands of my treacherous shoulder restraints (I love how the very devices that are supposed to keep you safe, get you hurt!).
The ride ended quickly, no twofer this time around, and we made our exit. I was slightly bitter that we didn't go around twice again, but shook it off. We had other rides to ride and not a lot of time to do it.

Fox and Squirrel Pt. 8

I want to warn you, my chronological order may be messed up, because my memory sucks.

Part 8- Eager To Ride
We made our way back to the lockers to change. On our way, we stopped at one those little outdoor showers usually found at public pools and water parks. These are commonly used to rinse yourself off before you get in the water, for hygienic purposes. They are also used after you've gotten wet, to rinse off the chlorine. But I use these showers for a special purpose. Ever notice how horribly cold it is the first few moments you get in a swimming pool? I've discovered that getting wet before you get in tends to cushion the blow and make it easier for your body to acclimate to the temperature of the water you're in. However, at the Great Escape, I have never experienced that terrible coldness while swimming in Splashwater Kingdom. I'm not sure why, but the water is always pleasant.

Acacia and I rinsed ourselves off with the warm water, which I found to be decidedly less pleasant than the cool waters of the slides and pools. Afterwards, we walked into the locker rooms, which echoed with the sounds of screaming children and gossiping guests. We collected our clothes, and herded into the same changing stall we had used to wriggle into our bathing suits. The cement floor was slick with water from all the bathers who come had come and gone throughout the day. I tried very hard not to drop anything. We dried ourselves off with our damp towels, and struggled into our clothes. The hardest part was getting into my shoes and socks, without getting my socks wet on the cement floor. I couldn't sit down to put them on, because unfortunately, there wasn't a bench in that changing stall. It was during this battle to change our clothes inside a damp tiny cell that Acacia told me she had dropped her bathing suit bottoms in the parking lot. She had been wearing her shorts and underwear the entire time in the water park, and would now have to walk around all day in damp shorts. But she didn't complain; she accepted her lot, whereas I would have bemoaned my ill fate.

We left Splashwater Kingdom. It is strange, while the only thing that separates Splashwater Kingdom and the rest of The Great Escape is an arch (bearing the title: Splashwater Kingdom), the two parts of the park are entirely foreign. They are two different worlds, but I am not sure how I can describe it. For one thing, the water park is brighter. There are less trees in the area, so the sun beats down upon the water and the cement. But despite this, it is much cooler than the rest of the park, possibly because of the presence of water, or because when you're wearing a bathing suit you've got more skin exposed and are thus cooler as a result. Your bathing suit being damp doesn't hurt either.

We wandered the park, deciding what to ride next. Acacia and I decided to ride The Comet. The Comet is, as you know, a wooden roller coaster, which was restored by the Great Escape. It's one of my favorite rides at the park, for I do prefer wooden roller coasters over steel. Acacia and I got into line; it was not horribly long, though there was a large group of hyperactive kids in front of us. Kids always seem eager to ride this coaster, but I've never figured out why.

When it was our turn, we climbed into the old fashioned cars (though not before putting our bags and glasses in the provided cubbies). There are two trains of cars, one red and one blue, I think we may have gotten the blue one, but I'm not entirely sure. Regardless of the car's color, we buckled the orange seat belts (I remember that) and lowered the foam-padded lap bar. Then, after the speech regarding safety precautions, the ride started.

The ride started out slowly, the track still low to the ground. I wasn't afraid, only excited, the first time I rode this coaster without any fear. The cars began to ascend the hill, the chain pulling us up, clacking and grinding. It rose high and higher, and finally we went rushing down the steep hill, the wind in our faces, screaming, you guessed it, a Hetalia reference. I had my hands in the air, screaming in joy. I kept my hands up for most of the thrilling ride, through sharp turns and swooping drops. I kept my arms in the air until the coaster jumped suddenly, and I felt myself being pitched out of the car! It isn't unusual for one's ass to briefly leave the seat during a roller coaster ride, but this time, my body had somehow swerved to the left, putting me at risk of being an amusement park casualty. The near danger lasted only for a moment however, for I grabbed the bar, pulled my self back into the seat and held on for the rest of the ride.

When the ride was over, we collected our things and went to the kiosk where they sell the photos they took of you on the ride. This is very common on a lot of roller coasters, log flumes and other thrill rides, to take a picture of riders when they're at a certain point in the ride, to capture the amusing expressions they make. Some people flash the camera or flip the bird. Acacia and I did neither of those things. What I noticed about our snapshot, was that I looked eerily like my mother in it. We decided not to buy the photos (not because of our appearances, but because we lacked sufficient funds.) and made our way to the Fest Area of the park to experience more rides.

Like most of my memoirs, my chronological memory is very hazy. I do recall that we were worried about the time the park would close. It was around two or three in the afternoon, and we wanted as much time in the park as possible. I began to feel a manic urge to get on as many rides as possible. One of these rides I frantically hopped aboard was The Pirate Ship. This ride ends up in a lot of my memoirs, for it is ubiquitous in the amusement park world. Every park, carnival, and county fair will feature one if they have the space and the money, because it is such a popular ride. It is a thrill ride that most people can enjoy (though I have witnessed them turning away children that are too short or people who are obese; the latter because the safety bar could not fit over their bellies), for it is not too extreme, but still packs a punch.

We got in line, hoping to get the very back seats (for those go the highest in the air). That was not our fate of course, for the skinny, bratty girls in front of us had that dubious honor. It is the cold hard fact of amusement parks, that the people in front of you always grab the seats that you want, whether you wanted it because of it's placement (such as the back seats of the Pirate) or if you wanted it because of it's color or design. It becomes a habit, when you're in line for a ride to give the people in front of you the evil eye, almost daring them to grab that seat you want, willing them, commanding them (inside your head of course, lest you look like a lunatic) to stay the fuck away from that seat you so desire. These death glares must be subtle of course, for you may be discovered.

We sat down in the third row, near the stern (the second row naturally having been taken over by another group of tween girls). The safety bar lowered automatically and the ride started. The group of young girls behind us, were screaming like it was the scariest thing they had ever been on. As we soared in the air, I rolled my eyes and laughed.

The ride was short, too short for my tastes. I like my thrill rides to be pretty lengthy, but it seems that they like to run them for only two or three minutes, especially if the waiting line is long. They need to make the ride fast to make the line move fast. But the line wasn't really long today, so that wasn't a problem. I don't know why amusement park rides have to run so short. We got off the ride, and gathered our things. Among our belongings, we had the addition of a coke cup. Acacia had purchased a coke right before we left the water park, and we had shared it. When the coke was gone, we filled the cup with water from the drinking fountains. Eventually when the cubes melted we got rid of it, but the coke cup would later be replaced.

After this, we made the not so sage decision to ride The Alpine Bobsled. I've described this ride before. It's a roller coaster inspired by bobsledding, with a nice Winter Olympics theme. Instead of traditional tracks, the bobsled modeled cars speed down a luge track. It can actually be dangerous; a woman died when her sled went off the tracks and crashed. Also, because of the poor neck and shoulder support on this ride, it is very easy to experience whiplash. I consider it the park's worst ride when it comes to safety and rider comfort.

The line for this was actually kind of long. The people in front of us were eavesdropping on our conversation, but to be polite we let them in on our discussions about Hetalia and American Indian culture.

When we made it to the station where people entered and exited the ride, Acacia and I started discussing which bobsled we would get. As I've mentioned in previous memoirs, the bobsleds are emblazoned with different international flags, coinciding with the Olympic theme. There is America, Canada, Britain, France, Italy, Switzerland, and Jamaica. Since we had been discussing Hetalia all day (which is an anime about the different countries that fought in WW2, it's cute and strange), what country we got was of great importance. We wanted Italy, or Canada, because Italy was my favorite and Canada is Acacia's favorite. Britain or France would also be acceptable, as would Switzerland or the United States. But we did not want Jamaica (though I used to want that one when I was a kid, because of the film Cool Runnings) because Jamaica is not in Axis Powers Hetalia. While we waited, we let some people go ahead of us so they could remain with their group, I don't usually like letting people cut in front of me though, but since it was an older woman with a child who politely asked for this, I relented.
Waiting in line for roller coasters reminds me of herding livestock. From the large single line, you branch off into a group of smaller lines, which are sectioned off by gates and bars. This method determines where you sit on the ride, in the front or the back. It can, at times be a little confusing and frustrating. Sometimes they have special lines that get you to the very front of the coaster, but they have none of that nonsense on this ride.

I can not remember which country was on our bobsled. It was either Italy or Canada, one of the very countries we had desired! I think for sure, that it was Italy, for I recall crying "Pasta!" a few times, disturbing the people who had been in line in front of us. We lowered the lap bars and got ready for the ride to start. I wasn't going to take off my glasses for this coaster, probably because it didn't have so many steep drops and it did not go upside down.

The ride started, and I found that I liked it a lot less than I used to. Yes, it was fast, but it was awkward, and contained too many sudden stops. Every time it would lurch or stop suddenly, my neck would jerk forward painfully, and my breasts and stomach would slam into the lap bar, causing further pain. The sound of the wheels on the luge, was unpleasant to my ears. All in all, I really hated riding this, and it put me in a bad mood. When we exited the ride, I complained about how unsafe the Alpine Bobsled was. They need better head and neck support for this ride, or they need someone to operate the damn thing properly. Maybe they need both.
We continued on our way; I was still worried about how much time we could have in the park. We would try to squeeze in a few more rides, maybe even get something to eat. Read all about it in my next entry!

Fox and Squirrel Pt. 7

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.

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?

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.