MIAMI — Our
roller coaster slowed as it approached the precipice, then
stopped, the front hanging over the edge. From my seat at
the end of the front row, I could not see the track below,
just empty space. We teetered there for excruciating
moments, while I contemplated my folly and certain death.
Then the car slid
smoothly over the brink and we were diving down, down,
down, and I was screaming in real terror, before the
coaster entered a loop and started back up again.
I was on SheiKra
at Busch Gardens Tampa Bay, the only coaster in Florida
with a 90-degree plunge and the scariest of the 20
coasters I rode that week.
My mission: To
size up Central Florida's coasters, pick the best and
survive the rest.
In Central
Florida, 11 coasters have opened since 1999 — 13 if you
count Disney's two virtual coasters. From Manta's
Superman-like flying position to SheiKra's 90-degree dive,
to Dragon Challenge's cars that are suspended from the
wheel platform rather than built on top of it, they
represent some of the innovations of the newest generation
of coasters.
They were part of
a coaster building boom that peaked at the turn of the
millennium. In Central Florida — and around the world
— the rides are faster and taller than their
predecessors, with more loops, inversions and unique
elements than ever before.
That boom ran its
course. Now, only Busch Gardens has a ride under
construction that is rumored to be a coaster. Scuttlebutt
on fan websites is that it will be a fast-launch coaster
named Cheetaka. The Tampa park isn't commenting, except to
say the attraction "will combine the two things that
Busch Gardens does best: up-close animal encounters and
thrill rides."
None of Florida's
parks has a record number of coasters — Cedar Point in
Sandusky, Ohio, has 17 — but it's an impressive
concentration just the same: six at Busch Gardens, three
at SeaWorld, two each at Universal Studios and Universal's
Islands of Adventure, and seven at the Disney parks,
including two simulators.
Coaster fans
credit Central Florida with some top-tier coasters, among
them Manta at SeaWorld, SheiKra and Montu at Busch
Gardens, Incredible Hulk and Dragon Challenge at
Universal's Islands of Adventure, Revenge of the Mummy at
Universal Studios, and for sentimental reasons, Space
Mountain at Disney's Magic Kingdom, Florida's oldest theme
park coaster.
But for the most
ardent coaster fans, who travel the country — and even
the world — in search of high-speed thrills, Orlando is
not considered a coaster hotspot.
"The roller
coasters in Orlando are not record-breaking rides and some
of the coasters are conservative — primarily Disney's
collection," said Eric Gieszl, founder of
UltimateRollerCoaster.com. "While Orlando doesn't
have a huge collection, they do have some outstanding
roller coasters.
"Tampa on
the other hand has built some notable coasters over the
years and they tend to be much more aggressive. Busch
Gardens is well respected amongst coaster fanatics and has
some of the best roller coasters found anywhere."
BUSCH GARDENS
This is where I
kicked off my own tour of theme-park coasters. My
parameters: no kiddie coasters, no water rides unless they
include mechanical coaster propulsion elements such as the
chain lift hill on Journey to Atlantis, no rides that
simply drop but don't go anywhere.
Starting with
Gwazi, a wooden coaster that rattled my bones and
repeatedly lifted me off my seat, I rode five of the
park's six coasters before lunch: Montu, an inverted
coaster that turned us upside down seven times; Scorpion,
a older coaster that still carries a sting; Cheetah Chase,
which makes you feel you're about to fall off the edge of
one of its hairpin turns; and Kumba, loud, fast and
dizzying, with three seconds of weightlessness.
I was exhilarated
and feeling fearless, but my stomach was unsettled. I
blamed Cheetah Chase.
After lunch and
some animal encounters that threatened neither my limbs
nor my equilibrium, I was ready to face SheiKra. I don't
have much trouble with motion sickness — really, who
wouldn't feel a little queasy after riding five coasters
in rapid succession? — and am not bothered by heights or
speed, but I don't like edges. SheiKra has a 195-foot
drop, about half of it straight down.
At the bottom of
that plunge, after I realized I had survived Central
Florida's most daunting thrill ride, I knew everything
would be downhill from there.
DISNEY
Thrill rides are
not a significant part of Disney's repertoire of
family-oriented attractions designed around
sometimes-elaborate stories. With four parks in Orlando,
Disney has only five actual coasters, plus two simulators.
I started at
Magic Kingdom with the oldest, Space Mountain, whose
overhaul last year — new games in the queue, darker
ambience, updated decor — gave it a more contemporary
feel than its age (35) would indicate; it still has plenty
of thrills. On Big Thunder Mountain, the
"collapsing" mine scenery is more threatening
than the ride itself. Then to Animal Kingdom, for
Expedition Everest, with its startling downhill run in
reverse, and Primeval Whirl, with its spinning cars. The
best of the actual coasters was my last: Rock n Roll
Roller Coaster, with a high-speed launch and three
inversions, accompanied by Aerosmith.
At Epcot and
Downtown Disney, I designed my own coasters, then got in
simulators to experience them. Once I tried them, I wished
I'd drawn in more thrills. I could have redesigned them,
but I wanted to spend the time riding real coasters.
UNIVERSAL
Like Disney,
Universal designs its rides around stories, but is more
adventurous in its thrill rides at its two Orlando parks.
At Islands of
Adventure, I rode coasters that were already among my
favorites: Incredible Hulk, with a high-speed launch and
inventive loops, and Dragon Challenge, whose dueling
inverted trains had me whooping with glee, my feet flying
free.
Next door, at
Universal Studios, both of the coasters lost points with
me — neither turns upside down once: Revenge of the
Mummy, the only indoor coaster at the two parks, and
Hollywood Rip Ride Rockit, where riders choose their own
soundtrack for the experience. "Something by the
Rolling Stones would fit here," I thought. That's
when I learned that coasters are not designed for people
over 50. There was none of our music on the list. I
settled for M.C. Hammer"s "U Can't Touch
This," and we were off.
SEAWORLD
SeaWorld Orlando
came late to the thrill-ride party; it didn't open its
first — Journey to Atlantis, half flume ride, half
roller coaster — until 1998. I rode it and got the usual
soaking, and then tackled Kraken — fast and floorless,
with seven inversions.
It was here, on
this newcomer's grounds, that I encountered the best ride
of my tour, Manta, opened just over a year ago, which
simulates a manta ray gliding smoothly through the water.
We sat upright,
held in place by a lap bar, harness, and flaps in front of
our ankles. Then the mechanism rotated our heads down,
feet back. Thus suspended, we soared out over nothingness,
flying on our bellies like Superman.
We climbed the
inside of a loop and dove down the other side, head first,
the scenery a blur of color as we rushed by at this
unaccustomed angle. Then we glided up a second loop, this
one with the rails twisted around it so the manta spiraled
gracefully around the structure, as smooth as a stripe on
a peppermint stick.
BREAKING RECORDS
The last coaster
building boom saw a string of records made and broken.
Coasters reached record heights — 200 feet, then 250 and
300; now there are two coasters taller than 400 feet. At
least five coasters reach speeds of more than 100 mph. The
traditional enclosed sit-down car has been replaced by
stand-up coasters, suspended cars, floorless cars. There
are more ways of being turned upside, of feeling
weightless, more coasters used in story-telling, more
built with water elements or super-fast launches.
"It's like
filmmakers or musicians — whenever you have something
that is built within the creative realm, people look at it
and say, 'What can we do to make this bigger, better, more
impressive,'" said Robb Alvey of ThemeParkReview.com.
Although no
Florida coasters approach height or speed records, they do
form a diverse group.
In four days, I
had ridden 20 coasters and been turned upside down so many
times I lost count. I had gone through basic vertical
loops, diving loops, Immelmann loops, a pretzel loop and
the world's only non-inverting loop; carousels, batwings,
zero-gravity rolls, cobra rolls, simple corkscrews and
interlocking corkscrews. My stomach had objected only
once.
I considered this
collection, representing some of engineering's most
creative coaster designs. Then I got in line to ride Manta
again.