Me and my crazy gravity-powered vehicles

Anyone who has come in contact with me anytime within the last 40+ years has learned very quickly that one of my very favorite things in the world is a crazy roller coaster ride. Being that I was scared out of my wits riding the Matterhorn at Disneyland as a child, it's amazing that I actually grew to like the darned things.

Not only did I come to enjoy riding them, but learning how they worked and how they're designed just fascinated me. Amusement park rides in general have long held my interest, no doubt inspired by Disneyland. Pirates of the Caribbean is one of the best rides ever to come from the Mouse—or anyone for that matter. When I was about eight, I took my first ride on it. I had no interest in the pirate figures, the scenery, or anything like that. I wanted to know how the ride worked. Were we riding in real, floating boats? How did those big boats take a HUGE drop down a waterfall with everyone surviving? What pulled the boats back up the big hill at the end? And on and on...

As I got older, I eventually learned how these things worked, and in all honesty, it's actually just a simple conglomeration of mechanical and electrical things that have been designed to work together in (nearly) perfect harmony. (Yes, they do break down occasionally—oftentimes when there are people aboard.) At one time, I even wanted to design rides. When I was in high school, I was toying between a career in architecture and mechanical engineering. I can't remember now where I heard it, but I was told that there would be ten mechanical engineering jobs for every one architectural one, so I decided to go that route.

My first job was as a drafter at a company called IERC. (Who'da thunk that I'd work at a place with the same letters as my name, only scrambled a bit?) A few years into that job, I began to grow tired and sought a change. I created my very first resume and headed over to (then) WED (the engineering side of Disney) to seek work in their design department. Of course, I lacked the expertise they wanted, but my interest in theme park design never waned.

Not long after getting married, I found an organization called American Coaster Enthusiasts (ACE for short). I would have never guessed that there were so many others with the same—or greater—interest in not only amusement parks, but specifically roller coasters. I not only found the club, but joined. They have local and national events, and I've made a number of good friends. I've enjoyed many years of riding.

Just the other night, I learned of a special event at Six Flags Magic Mountain. This event was a couple of hours of exclusive ride time (ERT) on Lex Luthor—Drop of Doom and Goliath. I went to the park a couple of hours early to take rides on the soon-to-be-closed-forever Colossus, and the limited-time backwards Batman: The Ride. I managed only one ride on the coasters because they almost literally made me queasy. Had I been a bit under the weather, I'd have understood. But I am just fine.

After my trip on Batman, I had to sit for awhile. While sitting in the nearly empty park, I began to wonder if my roller coaster riding career is nearing its end. The thought of that really hit me. I'm not THAT old, am I? I have heard that in Japan, they don't let anyone ride a coaster if they appear to be about 60 or older. Japan is known for its respect toward older people (they're highly revered, actually), so I'm sure that their take on older people riding is that they would be better off not riding in order to avoid, um, losing one during a ride.

I used to visit Magic Mountain at least once a month, but now it's down to just a few times a year. My poor old body just can't take the heat and all of the walking that it takes to navigate the park anymore. What scares me is that one of my trademarks is walking. Long evening walks of five miles or more several times a week. I don't want to lose that. Fighting diabetes and what is probably depression is beginning to take its toll on me. Can I reverse it? I need to do something before I have to quit my beloved hobby for good.