"FREEBIIIIRD!!"
What a weekend.
I went up to our boat on Lake Erie with my parents and eliara yesterday morning. Good times; today we took in a craft fair and went swimming.
Of course, the real highlight of the trip was Friday's trip to the one and only Cedar Point, the most awesome coaster park on the planet.
We got in about twenty minutes before the park opened thanks to some early access passes my parents scored for us.
We were about as awake as could be expected at ten in the morning on a summer Friday after a two hour car ride. We had about twelve hours and an undisclosed amount of money to spend. I was wearing one of my favorite t-shirts (light pink with the word "KINKY" on it) and slathered on the sunscreen. eliara had on a bikini beneath her clothes and was all coked up on dramamine.
In other words, we were ready to rock.
First stop, the park's newest baby, Maverick. It just opened this year and features a red metal track, five corkscrew turns and a dark tunnel you get launched out of.
We went there first hoping to beat the crowds, but of course pretty much anyone else who got in the park that early had the same idea. The line wait was about an hour long, which still isn't bad by CP standards. The only bad part was when about two thirds of the way through the line I started showing what I self-diagnosed (thanks to Renn Guildie safety training) as the beginning signs of dehydration, but I'll spare you the suspense: I lived.
After proving Maverick was as awesome as advertised (not the best coaster the park though, IMHO) we loaded up on water and headed to Mean Streak, a large older coaster that shakes and rattles like a rickety wooden blender piloted by the Knight Bus driver from the third Harry Potter movie.
After that it was lunch (salads in the blessed, blessed air conditioning of a saloon-themed spot) and then the Gemini: another wooden coaster, only 120 feet high and 60 mph, but it boasts two trains that race each other (the best part is always getting to high-five people in the other car when you pass close enough). We rode it twice, once on each train. Then we hit the very back car of Magnum, a metal coaster that might not be as impressive anymore now that it shares the skyline with Millennium Force and Top Thrill Dragster, but can still quite easily kick your ass whenever it chooses to, thank you very much.
Then we headed off in the direction of the water rides, as by this point the heat had reached downright ridiculous levels. It was at least 90-95 if it was a degree, is what I'm saying.
On the way to sweet over-chlorinated salvation, however, we stopped off at Iron Dragon. The Iron Dragon, for those of you that don't know, is metal and has a car that hangs from an overhead track but it's...really pretty much a baby coaster. It doesn't do anything much besides fly you through the air. It would be almost lame, if not for the fact that the line is never very long.
However, on this day the cool rushing breezes of the Dragon provided a wonderful sweet relief from the insane heat. As we zipped around the track, the two of us held out our arms and yelled out an increasingly giddy series of "whee" and "woohoo"s.
At some point, I finally let loose with an overdone yell of "FREEBIRD!", which made both of us crack up and sort of became our random silly coaster mantra for the rest of the day.
After Iron Dragon we continued in the direction of the water rides, a course which took us directly past the gallery where you can get one of those "old-fashioned" photos of yourself taken. Since Chrissy had talked about getting one of us earlier and we realized that we probably wouldn't be able to do it later after moistened, we went in.
Given a choice of Roaring '20s, Wild West bar or Victorian sitting room, naturally we decided aspring to look like Southern floozies. A copy of the resulting picture now resides on my dresser in a mat proclaiming a $500 dollar reward for the two of us (dead or alive), the robbers of several banks: decked out in old time saloon gal dresses, feather boas and hats, holding a six-shooter and a shotgun as we sit on an old bartop and glower smugly at the camera over several empty bottles of Jack Daniels.
(While we were waiting for the photo to develop, three elderly ladies came in and let themselves get talked into posing for a picture as a set of 1920s flappers. They were so fun to watch, giggling at each other and having a blast. If I can be like that when I'm that age, I'll consider my life fully lived.)
Anyway, we finally made it to the water rides and cooled down with a ride on Snake River Falls sandwiched between two trips on Thunder Canyon. Thunder Canyon is your typical round-rubber-raft-down-a-river-getting-hit-by-waterfalls deal. Snake River Falls is...you know how most water rides, you go on them and maybe you can end up getting soaked, but you're just as likely to get moderately wet or even just sprinkled? That is not Snake River Falls. I defy anyone to ride on Snake River Falls and not get completely, heavily drenched to the skin (unless you're wearing a poncho, and then that's just cheating). I think you'd have to defy the laws of physics, considering it's a fast ninety degree face-first drop into a pool of water. To complete the experience, some genius ride designer put the exiting bridge to the ride so that you cross directly in front of the big splash from the drop. So, if your first soaking isn't quite enough for you, just stand on the bridge and wait for the next train to drop. And, uh, hang onto something.
After our cooldown, we took a short trip on the Mine Ride, got Dip-N-Dots (the ice cream of the future...since 1995), rode the train, and then wound up in line for the one and only Millennium Force. Oh baby.
The line was only about fourty five minutes (for Millennium, that's nuts; you can easily be waiting on a crowded day for two to three hours), plus an extra fifteen or so because we sat...in the front seat. Bum bum BUUUM.
After an amazing ride that gave whole new defnition to the term "windblown", Chrissy wound up getting our ride photo as a commemorative keychain, which I can hardly blame her for. I'm your typical coaster riding position, hands out and screaming goofily, but she clearly figured out where the camera was going to be ahead of time and has her arms thrown back in the devil horns of rock as she scream-smiles into the camera. She looks like, any minute now, Metallica is going to take the stage and then she'll do some crowd surfing. It was a thing of beauty, truly.
Then it was time for the arcade, where I watched Chrissy play DDR and found seven tickets on the ground. That plus a dollar's worth of Whack-A-Mole games got us some cheap prizes at the ticket counter (number of times I put my fingers in my new Chinese finger trap: three. Number of times Chrissy needed to help me out of it after I got stuck: also three). Then it was a quick spin on the Racing Horses (like a Merry-Go-Round, only...racier) and what had to have been the shortest line wait for Raptor (motto: "I Kicked The Sky") ever in existence.
After discovering that the ride camera for Raptor has been replaced by video cameras ("For those of you just tuning in, enjoy the show!"), we headed to Wicked Twister.
Our first discovery there was that the back of Wicked Twister (the name says everything) is much more awesome than the front. The second was that we were apparantly not the only coaster riders that day with of love of screaming random phrases, as the kid in front of us found it necessary to yell "CASH MONEY!" everytime we hit airtime going forward.
Then we took a quick spin on the Matterhorn (a ride whose name I could never remember, suffice that it was "mountain-themed") and wandered all the way back down to the Gemini. The red car had mysteriously broken down, rendering it 50% less fun. Also, for some reason the operators kept talking about pancakes.
After that we had dinner (fries and Amp) and stopped to look at glowy things at a souvenir booth before going back to the Racing Horses.
At this point, we had about an hour left before the park closed and the sun had all but completely set. All day, we had been talking about riding the front seat of Magnum in the dark.
It was time.
We made our way back to Magnum, discovering that the line was unbelievably short. It barely took us any longer to get to the front seat than it took us to just walk through the turnstile and up the platform. I was actually getting kind of scared, until I reasoned out that it was both late and a Friday, and most people were probably concentrating on Maverick, Top Thrill and Millennium at that point. In fact, it was so short, we went twice, and both times in the front.
Not only was it awesome for the darkness and the sheer thrill of Magnum itself, the two of us managed to make it even funner by being our usual selves.
By the second time around, we were so giddy we were screaming any phrase that came to mind, including, well...I'm sure you can guess.
"FREEBIIIRD!!"
"FREEEEBIIIIRD!!"
"ROLLAR COASTERS MAKE ME HORNY!!"
"OOH BABY!!"
"ECHOOOOO!!"
"OBNOXIOUS!!"
By the second and final ride of the evening, we were well-prepared for the flashbulb of the ride photo camera.
I had to get this one as a keychain this time. Chrissy's doing devil horns again, and I'm doing the best cheesy-grin-thumbs-up combo you can do going down a hill at many many miles per hour. Plus, both the straps of her top fell down and my hair looks like I was attacked by an electric socket. Good times.
After all was said and done, the two of us finally trooped back to the park exit, where we found a grassy spot to lay down and look at the stars until my parents came to pick us up.
Needless to say, we slept like the dead that night.
And my throat is still a little sore from all the screaming.
Oh yeah. Definitely the best trip ever.
I went up to our boat on Lake Erie with my parents and eliara yesterday morning. Good times; today we took in a craft fair and went swimming.
Of course, the real highlight of the trip was Friday's trip to the one and only Cedar Point, the most awesome coaster park on the planet.
We got in about twenty minutes before the park opened thanks to some early access passes my parents scored for us.
We were about as awake as could be expected at ten in the morning on a summer Friday after a two hour car ride. We had about twelve hours and an undisclosed amount of money to spend. I was wearing one of my favorite t-shirts (light pink with the word "KINKY" on it) and slathered on the sunscreen. eliara had on a bikini beneath her clothes and was all coked up on dramamine.
In other words, we were ready to rock.
First stop, the park's newest baby, Maverick. It just opened this year and features a red metal track, five corkscrew turns and a dark tunnel you get launched out of.
We went there first hoping to beat the crowds, but of course pretty much anyone else who got in the park that early had the same idea. The line wait was about an hour long, which still isn't bad by CP standards. The only bad part was when about two thirds of the way through the line I started showing what I self-diagnosed (thanks to Renn Guildie safety training) as the beginning signs of dehydration, but I'll spare you the suspense: I lived.
After proving Maverick was as awesome as advertised (not the best coaster the park though, IMHO) we loaded up on water and headed to Mean Streak, a large older coaster that shakes and rattles like a rickety wooden blender piloted by the Knight Bus driver from the third Harry Potter movie.
After that it was lunch (salads in the blessed, blessed air conditioning of a saloon-themed spot) and then the Gemini: another wooden coaster, only 120 feet high and 60 mph, but it boasts two trains that race each other (the best part is always getting to high-five people in the other car when you pass close enough). We rode it twice, once on each train. Then we hit the very back car of Magnum, a metal coaster that might not be as impressive anymore now that it shares the skyline with Millennium Force and Top Thrill Dragster, but can still quite easily kick your ass whenever it chooses to, thank you very much.
Then we headed off in the direction of the water rides, as by this point the heat had reached downright ridiculous levels. It was at least 90-95 if it was a degree, is what I'm saying.
On the way to sweet over-chlorinated salvation, however, we stopped off at Iron Dragon. The Iron Dragon, for those of you that don't know, is metal and has a car that hangs from an overhead track but it's...really pretty much a baby coaster. It doesn't do anything much besides fly you through the air. It would be almost lame, if not for the fact that the line is never very long.
However, on this day the cool rushing breezes of the Dragon provided a wonderful sweet relief from the insane heat. As we zipped around the track, the two of us held out our arms and yelled out an increasingly giddy series of "whee" and "woohoo"s.
At some point, I finally let loose with an overdone yell of "FREEBIRD!", which made both of us crack up and sort of became our random silly coaster mantra for the rest of the day.
After Iron Dragon we continued in the direction of the water rides, a course which took us directly past the gallery where you can get one of those "old-fashioned" photos of yourself taken. Since Chrissy had talked about getting one of us earlier and we realized that we probably wouldn't be able to do it later after moistened, we went in.
Given a choice of Roaring '20s, Wild West bar or Victorian sitting room, naturally we decided aspring to look like Southern floozies. A copy of the resulting picture now resides on my dresser in a mat proclaiming a $500 dollar reward for the two of us (dead or alive), the robbers of several banks: decked out in old time saloon gal dresses, feather boas and hats, holding a six-shooter and a shotgun as we sit on an old bartop and glower smugly at the camera over several empty bottles of Jack Daniels.
(While we were waiting for the photo to develop, three elderly ladies came in and let themselves get talked into posing for a picture as a set of 1920s flappers. They were so fun to watch, giggling at each other and having a blast. If I can be like that when I'm that age, I'll consider my life fully lived.)
Anyway, we finally made it to the water rides and cooled down with a ride on Snake River Falls sandwiched between two trips on Thunder Canyon. Thunder Canyon is your typical round-rubber-raft-down-a-river-getting-hit-by-waterfalls deal. Snake River Falls is...you know how most water rides, you go on them and maybe you can end up getting soaked, but you're just as likely to get moderately wet or even just sprinkled? That is not Snake River Falls. I defy anyone to ride on Snake River Falls and not get completely, heavily drenched to the skin (unless you're wearing a poncho, and then that's just cheating). I think you'd have to defy the laws of physics, considering it's a fast ninety degree face-first drop into a pool of water. To complete the experience, some genius ride designer put the exiting bridge to the ride so that you cross directly in front of the big splash from the drop. So, if your first soaking isn't quite enough for you, just stand on the bridge and wait for the next train to drop. And, uh, hang onto something.
After our cooldown, we took a short trip on the Mine Ride, got Dip-N-Dots (the ice cream of the future...since 1995), rode the train, and then wound up in line for the one and only Millennium Force. Oh baby.
The line was only about fourty five minutes (for Millennium, that's nuts; you can easily be waiting on a crowded day for two to three hours), plus an extra fifteen or so because we sat...in the front seat. Bum bum BUUUM.
After an amazing ride that gave whole new defnition to the term "windblown", Chrissy wound up getting our ride photo as a commemorative keychain, which I can hardly blame her for. I'm your typical coaster riding position, hands out and screaming goofily, but she clearly figured out where the camera was going to be ahead of time and has her arms thrown back in the devil horns of rock as she scream-smiles into the camera. She looks like, any minute now, Metallica is going to take the stage and then she'll do some crowd surfing. It was a thing of beauty, truly.
Then it was time for the arcade, where I watched Chrissy play DDR and found seven tickets on the ground. That plus a dollar's worth of Whack-A-Mole games got us some cheap prizes at the ticket counter (number of times I put my fingers in my new Chinese finger trap: three. Number of times Chrissy needed to help me out of it after I got stuck: also three). Then it was a quick spin on the Racing Horses (like a Merry-Go-Round, only...racier) and what had to have been the shortest line wait for Raptor (motto: "I Kicked The Sky") ever in existence.
After discovering that the ride camera for Raptor has been replaced by video cameras ("For those of you just tuning in, enjoy the show!"), we headed to Wicked Twister.
Our first discovery there was that the back of Wicked Twister (the name says everything) is much more awesome than the front. The second was that we were apparantly not the only coaster riders that day with of love of screaming random phrases, as the kid in front of us found it necessary to yell "CASH MONEY!" everytime we hit airtime going forward.
Then we took a quick spin on the Matterhorn (a ride whose name I could never remember, suffice that it was "mountain-themed") and wandered all the way back down to the Gemini. The red car had mysteriously broken down, rendering it 50% less fun. Also, for some reason the operators kept talking about pancakes.
After that we had dinner (fries and Amp) and stopped to look at glowy things at a souvenir booth before going back to the Racing Horses.
At this point, we had about an hour left before the park closed and the sun had all but completely set. All day, we had been talking about riding the front seat of Magnum in the dark.
It was time.
We made our way back to Magnum, discovering that the line was unbelievably short. It barely took us any longer to get to the front seat than it took us to just walk through the turnstile and up the platform. I was actually getting kind of scared, until I reasoned out that it was both late and a Friday, and most people were probably concentrating on Maverick, Top Thrill and Millennium at that point. In fact, it was so short, we went twice, and both times in the front.
Not only was it awesome for the darkness and the sheer thrill of Magnum itself, the two of us managed to make it even funner by being our usual selves.
By the second time around, we were so giddy we were screaming any phrase that came to mind, including, well...I'm sure you can guess.
"FREEBIIIRD!!"
"FREEEEBIIIIRD!!"
"ROLLAR COASTERS MAKE ME HORNY!!"
"OOH BABY!!"
"ECHOOOOO!!"
"OBNOXIOUS!!"
By the second and final ride of the evening, we were well-prepared for the flashbulb of the ride photo camera.
I had to get this one as a keychain this time. Chrissy's doing devil horns again, and I'm doing the best cheesy-grin-thumbs-up combo you can do going down a hill at many many miles per hour. Plus, both the straps of her top fell down and my hair looks like I was attacked by an electric socket. Good times.
After all was said and done, the two of us finally trooped back to the park exit, where we found a grassy spot to lay down and look at the stars until my parents came to pick us up.
Needless to say, we slept like the dead that night.
And my throat is still a little sore from all the screaming.
Oh yeah. Definitely the best trip ever.