Old Man Reclaims Title of Forever Young

I’m no chicken. At least not as it pertains to thrill rides. I certainly pass on those twirling rides that could potentially incite an unpleasant regurgitation incident. But that avoidance is not motivated by a fear of the ride- it is predicated by my fear of vomiting. I visited Carowinds theme park recently in celebration of my youngest son’s 10th birthday. My wife and I took the birthday boy, one of his friends, and our middle son. Things have changed over the years. What was formerly known as Carowinds became Paramount Carowinds, but now is just plain old Carowinds again. But some things never change like Thunder Road and the Carolina Cyclone- two roller coasters my boys and I have successfully conquered on numerous occasions over the years. This year’s adventure began at a coaster called Afterburn, formerly known as Top Gun. After some cajoling, we convinced my son’s friend and my wife to ride. It would be my lovely wife’s first and last ride of the day. Not amused afterwards, she didn’t even glance at the photo they take of you during the ride when you’re about to flip over. So the He-Man Thrill Seekers carried on without her. We conquered the Southern Star, formerly known as Frenzoid, a pirate ship contraption that suspends you up in the air then flips you over while the coins in your pocket plummet to the earth. Due to my obsessive fear of public regurgitation, I skipped out on the Hurler, appropriately named due to its propensity to induce vomiting among riders born during or previous to the Kennedy administration. Ditto for the Kaleidoscope, formerly known as the Scrambler. We survived the Drop Tower, formerly known as the Drop Zone, despite my phobic distaste for heights exceeding 10 feet. But the ultimate highlight occurred on our last ride as night fell after a two hour rain delay. Soaked to the bone, we waited first in line at a ride called Vortex, a stand up roller coaster that flips, drops, and turns you in various sorts of gyrations that are likely illegal in most of the contiguous forty-eight states. Just as the rain delay was proclaimed ended, the four He-Men strapped ourselves into the front row of the Vortex. At that very moment, the heavens let loose again and a downpour greeted us smack dab in the face as our contraption climbed the hill toward our destiny. Note: The Vortex travels fifty miles per hour. The sensation of being tossed, turned, and flipped while rain pelts you in the face at high speed is indescribable but the closest analogy is that of pins sticking you in the face while bees sting you. It reminded me of that scene in the old Mad Max movie where the bad guys strapped prisoners upright on the front of their vehicles to deter enemy attacks during battles. Except we were getting pelted with rain bullets. While some may have considered the experience miserable, we later declared it the most thrilling ride any of us had ever survived. A 45-year-old dad and his fellow He-Men laughed so hard during the adventure that we all nearly drowned. And in doing so, Dad- formerly known as the “Old Man”, was elevated to the proud status of “Forever Young” in the eyes of his kids. Certainly a thrill.