My heart was pounding, ringing through my ears. I had never experienced anything like this before and I found myself terrified.
The world around me went quiet. My arms folded across my chest, my legs crossed over each other. I could see the faces of those waiting outside; full of anticipation and fear. Some couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as I fidgeted in preparation for the “drop.”
It seemed like an eternity. I stood there waiting while wondering what it would feel like. I looked down and saw nothing but empty air. It lends itself to
“Breathe, Malin. You’ll be…”
The faces that were showered in laughter at my expression disappeared. I felt nothing but the air swooshing past my body and only heard my screaming.
The free fall stopped and I began flying around the tight curves and quick drops.
It seemed as if my body hadn’t touched the surface of the water slide, but the cool touch of the rushing water beneath me assured my heart that I was safe. As I continued my descent to pool below, I couldn’t help but ask myself when it would be over.
I could feel every crack and bump in the slide crashing into my shoulder blades. Couldn’t they have made this thing a little smoother?
As I get older, I wonder to myself why I put my body through such trauma.
I made it to the bottom of the “drop slide” and was overcome with the after effects of adrenaline. That was awesome.
I tried standing up in the little pool, but was cautious. These slides procure an unfortunate reputation of removing people’s swimwear.
*Quick clothing check*
As I made my way out of the slide complex I turned back around to see two more people meet the same thrilling end. For a second they were standing on the trap door and the next they were flying through the maneuvers.
It amazes me the technological advancements the theme park industry has made and mankind’s willingness to subject their body’s to whatever they concoct. 10 years ago I could barely muster the strength to get on a roller coaster. Now here I am allowing some stranger to hit a button that makes the floor drop out from underneath me.
It was hot. The weather app predicted a reasonable warm day, but reasonably warm was an understatement. The water from the slides certainly alleviated the feeling of my skin being cooked, but I needed to submerge myself. My flesh needed a break.
I stopped by my locker to pick up my sandals before gracing my body with the beauty of carefree coasting. I couldn’t walk farther than five feet without having to find a puddle or patch of grass to stand in. The floor wasn’t lava, but it certainly felt like it.
I couldn’t help but notice the people around me. They were everywhere. I had never seen a water park so busy. The locker where my belongings were kept was surrounded by a few, I don’t know, hundred people applying sunscreen, taking their outerwear off, and preparing to stand in unending lines. A strange sight to see if you think about it to long.
I, on the other hand, had one goal: Get my sandals and get in the river.
To which I accomplished , but the line for the lazy river was about ten minutes long. This isn’t a complaint, but I’m just trying to help you see how busy it was.
There was a line to get into the lazy river. Once you got into the lazy river you could only go around once before being ushered out.
Too many people.
Way too many people.
I tried getting into the wave pool but there was no room to swim without having some stranger brushing up against your butt or vice versa.
I exited the water park shortly after. My back was beginning to feel sore from some of the slides and I could feel a migraine setting in. Nothing beats getting older, folks.
I did hit up a couple of roller coasters before I left because I’m a sucker for punishment. However, I drugged myself up before getting on. Tylenol and Dramamine are a thrill junkie’s best friend if they have motion sickness.
They didn’t help.
I hopped on board one of those classic boardwalk corkscrew coasters. You know? The ones you always see on the marketing ads for beach boardwalks when in all reality they should be used for Tylenol commercials? Yeah, those.
The first hill was fine. I was having fun; smiling, even. Then came the first hairpin loop. The smile on my face was quickly replaced with fear and a look of agony as my head snapped back and forth. Then came the other twists and turns. My head was screaming, and rightfully so. I’m sure it looked like the coaster was playing a game of pinball with my skull.
Thank God it ended. I almost lost my lunch, but the Lord was good to me.
Ironically enough, I got off of that one, pledged to never do it again, and headed for a coaster 325 feet tall.
Like I said, sucker for punishment.
I approached the line and saw that it was about 5 or 6 rows of queue line deep. In other words, it would be about an hour before I got on. I looked at the time, 6 p.m. Why are you people still here?
As a huge theme park nerd, I’ve picked up on trends within the theme park attendee community. They arrive late and leave early in the night. Apparently this crew was an anomaly. They were still partying hard.
Oh well. It’s worth it. I went to get in line and was stopped by the ride attendee.
“Sir, you need to put your backpack in the locker.”
What I heard was this…
“Sir, you need to go waste twenty more dollars to ride this ride.”
I went home.
The dog days of Summer are here, my friends. It’s a beautiful thing. Get outside and make some memories! Then come share them with me! What have you done so far? Leave me a comment down below!
You are loved.
You are valued.