Taking the plunge. Literally.
I've come to believe there are two kinds of people in the world: those who love roller coasters, aka “thrill rides,” and those who don't. I unapologetically fit in with the latter, and I proved it last week when we took our youngest grands to Silver Dollar City. But it was there I came to understand the power that our youngest granddaughter, Karsyn, age 10, and her not-so-little brother, Jackson, 7, have in working magic to get this Memaw to do things that I would never, ever-in-my-lifetime do: that is to ride, not one, not two, but THREE “thrill” rides that I would never, ever-in-my-lifetime do.
The first was the swings... you know, those swings on long chains that first lift up high off the ground and then spin you around and around, diving up, diving down. I normally don't even enjoy WATCHING people, from the ground, on this ride. But suddenly I was there, strapped in, and too embarrassed to yell, "Wait... Wait... I want to GET OFF!" as they raised us up at least 10 feet above the ground. In no time we were soaring round and round, up over the trees below, dipping down, rising upwards. It did not help to close my eyes. It did not help to keep my eyes open. I could swear they ran that ride twice as long when we were on it than when we watched others ride it. When we stopped and my wobbly knees allowed me to get out and walk, Bob and the kids heard me exclaim: “Never again! Did you hear me? Never again!”
The second ride I allowed myself to do is one that, for nearly 50 years I have said: I WILL NEVER RIDE THAT THING AGAIN! That ride is the "Fire In the Hole" coaster. As I explained to Karsyn while I tried to keep her safe and away from Fire In the Hole, you'll go bumping along, seeing spooky things along the way, and then the little car will speed up and suddenly you’re in pitch darkness, going faster and faster, pitching to the right, pitching to the left, and then suddenly, it will feel like you fall about 50 feet in the blackness, and you come out into the sunshine on ground level where you try to regain your composure. I told Karsyn that Grandpa and I rode that horrible thing when we were at Silver Dollar City on our honeymoon, now almost 49 years ago, and I said after that, I would never, ever do that again! That did not deter her determination. "I want to go!! I want to go!! Please?" she begged. First off, I’m wondering if I actually know this child, or did we lose ours and pick up someone else’s. But then I thought, it wouldn't be right to send those little darlings into that haunted, frightening spookhouse without an adult that loves them and can hang on to them for dear life. And then I heard Grandpa say, "OK, I'll go with you." That made Karsyn very happy, she jumped up and down, clapping her hands, and she asked, "Will you go, too, Memaw? Please? Please?" And from somewhere in the humid atmosphere, I heard my voice say, “Yes, I’ll go.” Seriously, did I really say that? But then I thought: I already know what is going to happen, and I’d probably ruined it for them because now THEY ALSO KNOW what is going to happen; so I thought the least I could do would be to accompany one of them. That way, Grandpa had one kid, and I had the other, and we would save their precious little lives. We got into the waiting line (which was way too short!) and I kept telling myself I still had time to back out, when the guy at the door asked how many were in our group, and the kids yelled, “FOUR!” And he said, “Well, git on in here, you’re exactly what I need to fill this car!” There was no turning back now. I couldn’t embarrass myself now. So I followed Bob and the kids, numbly. We get in there and get this bar tightened down over us, and the car started moving. And it was exactly as I remembered it. I can do this, I kept telling myself. And then came the frightening thing I was braced for: the lights went out, and we shifted to the left and to the right, and then... we hurtled downward in total darkness. But we kept going. Wait... What? I remembered only ONE plunge, and that was at the end. The car isn’t supposed to keep going! But it did, and that plunging thing, in total darkness? Well, IT HAPPENED TWO MORE TIMES! This was not what I signed up for! I remembered only one plunge! Could it be that the the trauma of our first ride 49 years ago had overshadowed the shadowy parts in my memory? I don’t know. Bob and our two blessed, precious, and canniving grandchildren were laughing, standing there to help Memaw crawl out of that little car, and they heard me exclaim: “Never again! Did you hear me? Never again! And I mean it this time!”
After a bit of time to recuperate, we made a decision — together — that as hot as it was, and as long as the line was going to be, we should go join the waiting throng for Mystic River Falls, the whitewater rafting ride that’s supposed to be worth the price of SDC’s admission. Although this is a coaster of sorts, and it has a “blue square” beside the description of it in our guide, meaning it is a “thrill ride,” I was pretty pumped just for the sake of getting soaking wet. I could see bits and parts of the ride, and I was fairly certain we weren’t ever going to be in plunged into pitch blackness. The very last part of the ride was right next to where a thousand people were ahead of us in line, so everyone knew everyone is going to get soaked on that plunge. I was a tiny bit nervous, but I was a great bit hot, and I knew this will be the best way to cool off (other than shopping in the SDC stores!). We rented a locker to store our stuff and keep everything dry, so unfortunately I have no pictures, only the experience, to remind me. We stood in line for probably an hour and 40 minutes until it was our turn. Now this one was fun! And yes, we were tossed to and fro quite a lot, but there were no black holes, only that last big plunge that soaked us all. Out of my comfort zone for the ride? Yes, but it felt wonderful to get soaking wet! And I heard myself exclaim: “That was awesome! Let’s go again!”
