*Blogger sidenote: Anyone else have issues with cutting their lip while using a spoon? Just me? Cool. Let’s move on. This conversation never happened…… 😛
Last weekend Chad and I took our first 3-day weekend vacation in 6 months. We traveled with our best friends to Holiday World in Santa Clause, Indiana. Holiday World is our favorite amusement park because it’s a relatively short distance away, the parking is free and they also offer free water and soda stations and free sunscreen. The sunscreen was particularly helpful as we picked the hottest day of the year to be outside.
Now, a bit of background on our best friends; they are roller coaster enthusiasts. Like, they visit different amusement parks just for the coasters. Which I suppose is quite a normal thing to do, but I’m not a roller coaster person and usually only go to amusement parks because of the food.
I need to eat one elephant ear or funnel cake at least once every few months. For my health.
On this particular outing, we came across a ride called, “The Crow’s Nest.” It is essentially a huge swing that rotates in a circle as a crane type mechanism lifts you higher into the air.
As your legs dangle into nothingness.
And the only things that are protecting you from crashing down to the ground is a seat belt that goes over your lap and a belt that comes over your crouch.
The crouch belt contains a rather large metal buckle that sits directly over what you don’t want to injure in the event of a malfunction and sticks to your inner thighs. It’s safety over comfort on this thing, apparently. Although I still worried about my legs being free to just swing in the breeze willy-nilly, but at least my hoo-haa would be protected from ice chunks thrown up into the ride from a rogue child standing on the ground just wanting to test physics.
Holiday World tries to prepare for everything, apparently.
There are two seats on each crane arm and the seat that is furthest from the middle goes higher in the air than the one on the inside. Since I’m not a fan of heights, I chose the inner seat.
This was probably the only smart move I made. Nope, I’m sure this is the only smart move I made. I just shouldn’t have gotten on this devil machine. I’m not sure how high up we were, but I could have sworn at one point I saw Saturn’s rings.
Maybe.
Although truth be told I clamped my eyes real tight for most of the ride as we were going up, except for a split second when I felt brave and opened one eyeball just a crack.
It was a mistake. I thought the end was near. So I snapped my eyes back shut and held on for dear life. And prayed it’d be over soon. And focused on NOT vomiting. It looked a little something like this:
Now you may be wondering WHY in the WORLD would I get on a ride that goes so high that Saturn’s rings would be visible if I have a phobia of heights?
I mean, that’s a good question.
I believe it was all based on a lie.
See, of these friends of ours who are roller coaster enthusiasts, one has a fear of heights but loves this ride. The other one doesn’t have a fear of heights but promised this would be a relaxing experience and would help cool me off.
The operative phrase was “relaxing experience.”
Again, I should have never listened to my friends or believed the ride would be “relaxing” because it was “very much not. Like at all.” Even with my favorite human in the world right next to me. Although in my friend’s defense, it did cool me off.
Which I guess was the world’s thinnest silver lining.
The entire time I was on the ride, besides focusing on not dying or puking, I kept remembering that I told myself that when the ride was over, I would treat myself with a henna tattoo.
Which I got about an hour later. Henna tat’s are temporary but are supposed to last up to two weeks. Mine barely lasted 3 days. Why? Because even though I’m an adult, I don’t always make responsible decisions, and so I forgot to wear sunscreen the next day and as a result got a sunburn that had to be aloed once a day and the tattoo rubbed off as a result. My happy, bubbly sea-horse turned into a sad, crusty, flaky shell of what it once was.Â
Like me when I found my first gray hair.Â
So dear reader, the take away from today’s tale is two-fold:Â
1. Never trust the word of a guy who’s a rollercoaster enthusiast but has a phobia of heights and,
2. Always wear sunscreen, especially after getting a henna tattoo.
Cheers!