No, not really John "Cougar" Mellencamp. Not really! Before I begin a rundown of the thrills and spills, I'd like to say that Mid-America is horrible. From Michigan to Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin and points south (I did see a St. Louis Cardinals shirt), comes nothing but lardy, starchy, bloated white people wearing too skimpy clothing in an attempt to display their less than artistic body art. They also seem to be unaware of sun screen and the burning sensation that they no doubt must be feeling with skin the color of liquid hot magma. Their offspring are either obese by the age of five or are slim and sexually active by the age of twelve. This of course will lead to early marriage and child birth which will then lead to premature aging and morphing into the aforementioned parental units while at no point becoming self-aware. The cheap Wal-Mart flip flops, nylon shorts, and ripped t-shirt (either your high school sports team's or heavy metal band's logo are acceptable) are staples of the male's wardrobe while short shorts (unzipped of course), bikini tops or tight tight tank tops suffice for the female of the species. At no time during your life should you ever assume that you are too old to wear these fashion combos or that you are too fat. What looked good at twelve, looks as smashing at thirty-five and two hundred and fifty pounds. Amongst this mass of unhealthy humanity are the uber-fit douche bags, tools, and the combination tool bags sporting bulging muscles, fake tans, fake nails, fake tits, and small brains.
As I haven't been to Cedar Point in a few years, I noticed something new: the ride prerequisites now include the stipulation that "you must be able to buckle your own seatbelt". That's right! Unlike the airlines, Cedar Point does not provide seatbelt extenders and you can not hog the other end of the seatbelt from the other seat. If the belt don't fit, you must ex-it (you have to read that with Johnny Cochrane's voice)! This leads to some delay as the little porkers stuff themselves into the seats and inhale in an effort to close the clasp before they need to take a breath. I was expecting someone to pop but sadly, that never happened. Now off to the rides.
Christine, her daughter Morgan, friend Sarah, and I arrive about 11:30 (we spent the ride discussing "bad" words and in honor of this conversation some of them are scattered through this piece) and proceed directly to the Magnum. It's a classic and a good starter ride plus they play the cheesiest of 80's music. The line is short and the ride is uneventful but fun. Christine laughs hysterically through the entire ride. Unbeknownst to me, this is how she reacts to riding a roller coaster and she will do this all day except once....
Next up, the Top Thrill Dragster. The line is a mere forty-five minutes long but that's a lot of time to listen to the screams and watch the people go up and come back down, some crying. Christine begins to get a little nervous (seen below getting a little nervous).
The girls go up before us and show no signs of wear and tear as they exit and wait for us. Christine and I enter the car and it proceeds to the starting line where they rev the fake engine and make you wait. Christine says she wants to hold my hand. I tell her I had cancer and that's a little scarier so she doesn't hold my hand. That's good because she probably would have broken it. Anyone human would crush anything in their hands during that ride!
If you haven't experienced Top Thrill Dragster, you aren't really missing all that much. That's not to say it's not a rush and that it's not fucked up, it is. Totally and completely fucked up. For those seconds before you take off, you do nothing but look at the four hundred and twenty feet you have to go before you can come back down again. It's pretty intimidating until you take off at break neck speed and your stomach is back at the starting line. As you make your way up, you lose a lot of speed and you just climb a lot and then your at the top and you are just plunging back to earth. I looked but saw only sky. I believe Christine closed her eyes but she did not laugh. Then, almost as if it never happened, you are back on earth and it's all over. You must do it once at least but after that, it's a "meh".
Upon departing the Top Thrill we head to my favorite non-coaster, the Power Tower where the line is only fifteen minutes long. While in line, the little ambulance buggy stops at the Top Thrill Dragster to attend to some girl. Wuss. Now in comparison to the Dragster, the Power Tower is a baby ride. Not just because they put you in a seat that's very similar to the seat of a high chair and that you have to dangle and swing your feet like a toddler, but because it just goes up or down. I prefer down because you go up slowly, get a totally beautiful view of the lake and park, and then go completely weightless on the way down. For some reason, Morgan doesn't want to go on the Power Tower! We mock her and then pity her and tell her she doesn't have to go on the baby ride even though she did the Top Thrill. Our taunting works and she rides it. It's lovely as usual. We all scream and then head for the Corkscrew.
The Corkscrew kind of sucks but Sarah has never been on it and the line is only fifteen minutes long. Apparently it's the thirty-fifth anniversary of this ride. You'd think since it's so short and no one really rides it much that they'd let you go twice but they don't. Christine laughs hysterically for forty seconds and we move on to the Raptor. Ah, the Raptor. Hands down the best coaster at Cedar Point because it combines dangly high chair of the Power Tower with a roller coaster and I believe it's the longest as well. The line is again only about forty-five minutes long but time enough to learn to hate the ultra skinny, faked tittied pole dancer with the huge rock on her finger. Well, I didn't hate her as much as Christine. We (read: I) spent the time mocking the tunes (Billy Joel, Oasis, Aerosmith, Pink Fucking Floyd) and being hot, very very hot. For the ride, we get our own row. I "woo hoo" and Christine laughs. It awesome. On to the Millenium Force but first we stop for Icees because you get to mix and match. They charge $5.99 for a 10 cent cup and probably 5 cents worth of food coloring and flavoring but it's delicious. Unfortunately a few of the options weren't quite frozen enough so the middle of my drink looked like poop. It was still delicious and cold.
I had never been on the Millenium Force as the last time I was there, the line was over two hours long so I was damned excited with the one hour wait. The hour did drag on and it was super hot. When we finally arrived at the gates, Christine decided we should sit in the last row. Unfortunately, they pre-load the handicapped or injured folks and we had to wait a little longer for a car with an empty row. After all that, I was not that impressed with it. The first hill is fantastic but after the Raptor, it just didn't cut it for me. It goes in the pile with the Iron Dragon and the Mantis as coasters I won't ride again unless the line is thirty minutes or under. Hey, I've got standards!
Piping hot, we head to the water rides and Shoot the Rapids, a cheesy coaster but filled with water, water, water! The people in line are ultra fat or ultra tool baggy. It's like a distillation of the elements and the line is slow and smelly and they are playing awful country music. Filthy and awful. The lyrics are filled with references to tight jeans and hillbilly genes! As we near the railroad crossing, you can see the people on the ride and it is then that Morgan indignantly shouts, "No wonder the line is so slow, those cars aren't even full!". To which I reply that each car is limited to 1750 pounds of people and while that used to be ten Americans, it's now about five. So we wait and wait but it's worth it. My iPhone in it's Ottercase is tucked into a zip lock baggie along with our cash and we hop in, Christine and I in the back row again. On the last drop we hit the water and a tsunami rolls over our backs. Utterly drenched, we head back towards the Raptor to attempt a second run. Sadly more people have filtered in and the line is too long so we walk back towards the entrance.
As we near the Power Tower, Morgan, Miss "I don't want to go on the Power Tower", insists we take it for another twirl. Hey, you don't need to ask me twice. As we get in our seats, our foreign game attendant decides we are not displaying the necessary level of enthusiasm for her ride and she appears to take this as a personal affront. We go up and as we sit there waiting to drop, Christine says, "I'm scared". Now she's not of course as we've already been on this ride and she wasn't scared before, it's just coaster fatigue setting in. Once we drop, there is laughter (Does anyone remember laughter? Sorry, I just needed an excuse to insert the corniest lyric ever into this blog.). We pass the Corkscrew. Nah. Then hit the Magnum again. It's the last ride out and my back can't take the wooden track of the Gemini.
As we wait in line they play "Come On Ilene" and then "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" to which I sung along (only I sang "Wake Me Up Before You Go, Ho") and was given a dirty look by the family woman behind us. Christine and I do the last car and that was a mistake as it's really bumpy back there. I caught some whiplash on the way down one of the hills and then coaster fatigue. Despite the giggles, we both decided we were done but Morgan and Sarah went back for two more rides. All in all, a damned good day of coaster riding.
On the way out we made a wrong turn and ended up on 6 instead of 250 so once again I was denied Sonic. One day, one happy day, I will get to Sonic. I will probably be disappointed but I will get to Sonic.
