Beasts from hell

 Tears ran down his face as the force of the first drop, and the screams of the passengers behind him pierced his ears. Each curve was a test of his stomach as breakfast began its journey up, but he fought back and won that time. The sound of brakes screeching and sparks flying from the steel wheels all came to an end at the last curve, slowly creaking to a halt, and the end of another ride on the beast from hell. Riders got off, some looking like they had cheated death, while the operators hurried to clean up the remnants of a few breakfasts. Others scrambled to the end of the line, waiting for another turn.

The line to get on was long, and the faces of the soon-to-be riders were filled with excitement as they pushed their way to the front car or the back, as each promised a whole different feeling. The safety bars were locked down, and the sound of the mechanical arm was released as the beast began another white knuckle ride on the coaster from hell.

When darkness fell and a million colored lights lit up the beast, the riders, some of whom were high on things other than the ride, were rudely brought back to reality as the first drop sent them headfirst into the colors and the promise of a lifetime experience. The music was too loud, drowning out the park's noises. A dozen different smells whipped past your nose, like cotton candy, hot dogs, waffle cakes, and candy apples, all bunched together as one traveling at lightning speed. Some Thrill seekers held their arms up high, braving the beast's deadly turns and dips, their butts rising off the seat as they defied gravity for the ultimate ride experience.

Those were the days, my friends, when fears were put to rest, and the anticipation of riding the bigger ride grew every summer when you were tall enough to take on the ultimate coaster. Only the bravest of the brave would defy death in what was called The Tornado. Its presence was everywhere you walked through the park, towering over the tallest rides, making them look like kiddie rides. Some say you could see it and hear its screams a mile away. There were no safety bars on the Tornado, but rather a cage that held four people completely enclosed, with safety harnesses for extra protection. The scariest part for me was the cages rotated up, down, and around while the ride maneuvered you at speeds that made even the strongest of stomachs wish they'd skipped those chili dogs.

Another summer at the thrill park has passed, and another memory has been made as we wait once more for the thrill of a lifetime and the beasts from hell.

Mike 2025