Soapbox

1-G Mamma

So I’ve got this kid….and she has a real dare-devil streak in her. She must get it from her father (who did sky-diving back in college) because she certainly didn’t get it from her mother. I get nervous if I drive over 65 on the freeway. I don’t even like to go fast on a bicycle, ever since I left a hefty DNA sample on the street by Tina Dunlap’s house in 4th grade.

Yesterday I played hookie from church and we all drove to Cedar Point. As we had hoped, the crowds were small, and after paying extortionist’s prices to get into the place, the kids announced that they were heading straight to the biggest coaster in the park, Millennium Force.

“Have Fun” I said and waved goodbye.
“Oh come on, Mom” they said, but I just looked at the thing and shuddered. From the ground below, the tracks look straight up and straight down. I don’t want a trajectory like that on anything bigger than a pogo stick!

I’ve never been a real ride fan. I get nauseous just on swings at the playground, and don’t like that crushing sensation of multiple G-forces. I hadn’t been to Cedar Point since 1980 when my then-boyfriend Chuck took me. We walked in and I looked around and saw…rollercoasters, and twirling rides, and more coasters.
I interrupted his enthusiastic list of all the best rides in the park. “Where’s the other stuff?” I asked.
“What other stuff?”
“I mean, the quilt shows and the cake-decorating, and the animals…”

“This isn’t some stupid fair, Trace- this is an amusement park!”
“Animals are amusing” I tried.
“What are you talking about? This is a place to go on rides! That’s it.”
“Well, I don’t really like roller coasters…they give me a stomach ache.”
He looked grim.
“All there is here is rollercoasters! Now I paid a lot of money to get you in here, and you are going to ride every one. Come on!”

Needless to say, I broke up with him not long after, but 23 years later, here I was at the scene of the crime again, with my own kids, the children I am charged with keeping safe and seeing they live to adulthood, tugging on my arms and trying to get me to strap myself in and be hauled hundreds of feet in the air and flung off the edge! Eeek!

Steve must have seen the trapped look in my eyes. “OK, you go ride Mantis while we do Millennium Force” he said, pointing to a ride nearby. I looked over and saw a thick, heavy green tubular frame holding up what was a twisting but sturdy, much lower to the ground coaster.
OK, I thought, this will keep my mind off the horrible life-ending danger my kids are putting themselves in.
As I threaded my way past the 1/2 acre of empty cattle chutes (people really wait in lines this long to be tormented like this) I wondered if I could just turn around and say I had done the ride. I mean, I have learned to like some rollercoasters, but I’d never even seen this one, and I was going on it alone.

“Throw caution to the wind! think young!” I advised myself as I mounted the platform..and found it completely empty except for the already bored ride operators. I shook my head when they indicated the empty train of cars, and looked around for signs of life. If I’m going to die on a rollercoaster, I want there to be lots of other people with me! That way it will make the national news and alert more people to the dangers of rollercoasters.
As luck would have it, 7 people came up the stairs just then, so off I went.
The Mantis is a stand-up coaster, which does not make it particularly scary, but it does make it rather uncomfortable. I don’t think that old ladies with varicose veins like me should ride this type of rides, but other than some inguinal bruising and a few minor blood clots in my legs, I was fine. I was actually rather proud of myself and as I walked to meet the family I wondered if I could rest on my laurels and call it a day.

When I saw the expressions on the kids’ faces coming off Millennium Force I knew I was out of luck.
“Wow!” Katie enthused. “This is fantastic! you have got to go on this ride Mom!”
“Absolutely!” Steve agreed. “You’ll love it!”
“Ha ha, very funny” I said. “Now lets go find something else to do. Don’t they have a petting zoo somewhere?”
Ted took my hand.
“Trace, you have got to go on this ride. I know it looks scary as hell, but I guarantee you will love it. I’ve never been on a better coaster. Trust me- you will enjoy it.”
Trust me. He had to say that.

Last year on a family vacation to Williamsburg, Ted took the kids on a ride at Busch Gardens called “Alpengeist” that scared the snot out of me just looking at it. Afterwords he told me to trust him- he had evaluated it and thought I would like it. Knees knocking, I got on the ride and grabbed his hand.
“I’m trusting you” I shouted as the train began its haul up the first hill. “If I die, it’s your fault!”
Actually, it was great! Very smooth, and scary, but in a fun way that even a 1-G mamma like me could enjoy. I rode it twice.

So I shook my head at my own foolishness and got in line with them for Millennium Force. Ted had said to trust him, and what is marriage about if not trust?

Thankfully there was still next to no one in line, and I didn’t have time to ponder the full scope of the death I was courting. Not like the time they talked me into riding “Son of Beast” at King’s Island a few years ago. The entire 20 minutes I spent in line I kept looking at the wooden structure before me, so huge they probably destroyed an entire rainforest to build it, and I listened to it creak and concentrated on not hyper-ventilating.
All my fears were justified that day. It was awful! I was flung one way, then another as I tried desperately to brace myself. I wondered if this was what if felt like to be on an airliner going down. The only thing that kept me from giving up and dieing was the knowledge that my darling baby girl was in the car ahead of me, no doubt terrified beyond belief, and she would need the comfort of her mother’s arms when this nightmare was over. Also, I wanted to live to wring the neck of those who had talked me onto the thing!

When the car finally coasted back to the station that day, my darling baby girl, my tender flower, was pumping her fist and shouting “Whoo! That was awesome!” I tried to climb out and discovered that I seemed to have whiplash and was unable to lift my arms or turn my head. It was not a fun afternoon.

But Ted said I should trust him, so here I was, clutching his hand in a death grip as the ride took off, up a hill taller and steeper than I care to think about, even now.
“The view is a little scary going up” he said, and I shook my head. “I’m going to have my eyes closed the entire ride”
“No! You’ve got to look when you get to the top!”
“Dream on.”
“Trust me!”
Those words again.
I felt our car begin to crest the hill, that moment in every rollercoaster ride when you are suspended for an instant and time stands still, right before the world drops out from beneath you. I opened my eyes just a crack, and saw a beautiful scene before me- miles of blue sky and Lake Erie, with sailboats dotting the glittering water. Involuntarily I opened my eyes wider to take it all in.
“Wow! What a-”
“Hang on” was all Ted had time to say.
And then I was looking at the water, straight down at the water, and was that maybe a tiny strip of track down there? Who knew? We were flying- smoothly, amazingly, terrifyingly- like a falcon stooping after prey, and I laughed!
“Holy s***!
Down we flew, and down, and then up and around and down again, and sure we were going to die- but who cared? My body flew with the car instead of against it. I felt my ears flutter against my head, and I gasped for breath and the rush of air instantly dried my mouth. It was amazingly fast, but I felt none of the bruising, crushing G-forces that some coasters give you. It was intoxicating, that feeling of speed and power.
When the car slowed at last, I let out a whoop, and then a shaky laugh. at my good fortune to still be alive.
“Oh My God. That was amazing! Holy crap!”
Trust is a beautiful thing.

We all piled out and headed to the exit. For me it had been a full, rich day.
“I want to do the Top Thrill Dragster” Katie said, and my heart nearly stopped. This thing launches the car to about 120 miles and hour and goes higher than the Millennium Force! The difference is that it goes so fast that it’s over in just under 30 seconds.
“Do you want to die?” I asked her.
“Oh mom, people ride it every day and don’t get hurt. Besides, it’s over really fast.”
“So is a bullet to the brain” I said gloomily, but seeing that her Dad was prepared to ride with her, I didn’t say anything more.
Steve, my sensible child, assured me that no way was he getting on that thing, so we sat in the “Grandstand” together and watched. When Ted and Katie climbed into their car, we waved and they waved back.

“Look at Katie!” I said, concerned. “She’s scared. She looks like she’s going to cry!” I watched her hunch forward in her seat as the car was moved into position for “launch.”
“Or throw up” I added- but then, she was gone.

“Oh- oh…oh God, my girl is so…oh- oh Lord, oh…” and then the car was racing back to the station, and I could see Katie whooping and raising her fists in the air.
“It was great! she told me afterwords.
“I bet” I said, shaking my head.
“It’s too fast to be scared!” she assured me.
But I saw the look on her face before the ride started. Perhaps she enjoyed being scared. How totally unlike me. Could she be adopted and I just forgot about it?

I muddled on, and didn’t do too bad for a 1-G Mamma. By 4:00 we all had either a queasy stomach, headache or both, so we called it a day. Even for Katie, it was too much of a good thing!

Quite a change from the first time I went to Cedar Point. Back then, I was pretty sure it would be my last. Yesterday the kids asked to come back again next year, and we agreed. Well, when I was a kid I didn’t like lima beans either, but Ted and the kids asked for them so often that I learned to almost like them. Perhaps it’s the same with coasters.