Parker Versus Six Flags: Magic Mountain

Heights have never really scared me. Neither has speed. But when you combine the two and add the relative (though usually unfounded) uncertainty that comes with rollercoasters, confidence ebbs as palms moisten. Welcome to Magic Mountain.

I drove up Friday night with my roommate, stopping in Orange County to spend the night at his parents' house. His brother had just turned 17, and his parents decided to treat he and his friends to a trip to Magic Mountain. My roommate, his friend and I would be looking after his brother and his 7 friends from 9 am to, well, who knew when we'd get back.

The drive from Silverado to Six Flags took about an hour and a half. Traffic was fairly light that Saturday morning, so we were able to move relatively easily through western Los Anegeles. We arrived a little before 11, and the fun began.

The first ride we went on was Tatsu, which, according to the Magic Mountain website, is "the tallest, fastest and longest flying coaster on Earth." We were starting things off right... After we waited in line for over an hour, that is.

Having had little to no rollercoaster experience (and in fact almost zero amusement park experience at all) I was impressed with Tatsu. It was much faster and more violent than I imagined, but for the day it was probably my 4th favorite ride. Things would get much scarier.

After Tatsu we went on Goliath, a big orange rollercoaster that immediately catches your eye. After waiting in line for an hour an a half, we were locked in and ready to go. At this point I will go ahead and admit the initial drop from Goliath was the single most intense moment of the entire day. From the peak of Goliath -- one of the highest points in the park, where you can see the entire surrounding landscape for miles -- the ride plummets downward toward a small tunnel. When you're on your way down, wind screaming in your ears and stomach floating somewhere up near your throat, you think there's no way you're going to fit in that tiny tunnel. Your arms, if you're brave enough to hold them up while almost free-falling, you immediately pull in in fear of being decapitated by the low-hanging tunnel roof.

As it almost always turns out though, your fears are unfounded. The tunnel is plenty high enough for your head and arms -- and with room to spare. Once you emerge from the tunnel, Goliath spins you in a tight circle, spiraling downward before shooting you up and around for another few moments. It was the first ride where I couldn't help but scream -- from both exhilaration and, I'll admit, a little fear. Goliath ranks as my 2nd favorite ride of the day. It would only get scarier.

From Goliath, we migrated to Lex Luther: The Drop of Doom. At 420-ft -- the highest point in Six Flags -- the Drop of Doom towers over everything else. Goliath peak, which had seemed so high before, is less than half as tall. The Drop of Doom is just that: a straight free fall. For many people, this was far scarier than any rollercoaster. I happened to be one of those people. What scared me the most though wasn't the ride, but what I overheard when I was two groups away from strapping in and free-falling for 300 feet.

There is a box that travels up and down the tower. On the side of this box are eight seats. The box climbs for a few hundred feet, and then drops like a rock toward the ground, slowing only in the last fifty to sixty feet. The Six Flags website describes it as "the world's tallest vertical drop ride."

Our group was standing in line when a group on the other side of the tower got stuck. Fortunately, they were only thirty or so feet above the ground -- they had safely dropped and slowed. Eventually, the box was released and they were let down.

Then the technicians came out and examined the Drop of Doom. After about fifteen minutes of leaning up against a fence about five feet from the harnessed seats, I looked over at the technicians. One in particular stood out. He seemed to be around my age, maybe younger. At the exact moment I looked over, I saw him point up at the tower and say, "That seems kinda sketchy."

After another few minutes and several test runs, the ride was declared operational once more. The group in front of us didn't seem to hesitate -- though I don't think they heard what the technician said. I didn't say anything. They climbed, dropped, slowed and disembarked without an issue. We were up next.

More than all the rollercoasters with their blind drops, backwards drops, tunnels and pyrotechnics, this was the easily the scariest moment of the entire trip. We slowly ascended this gigantic tower until we were, it seemed, perched atop the world. The entire park was laid out below us, humans shrunk to the size of dots, rollercoasters nothing more than like twisted wires. We shouted things like, "Why did we do this?! Why are we up here?!" Then we dropped.

At first, the world rushed by, my stomach dropped and I screamed. But after the first half second, a sense of calm overcame me. I said in a conversational tone to the girl next to me, world rushing by at 85 mph, "Oh, this isn't too bad." Then, like reaching the bottom of a gigantic pogo stick, we slowed. It was the 3rd best ride of the day.

We had conquered the Drop of Doom, and for the rest of the day, fear played almost no role in any of the rides for me. Excitement did, of course, and so did adrenaline. But fear never reentered the equation. It was exhilaration coupled with the confidence that I could handle anything Magic Mountain had to throw at me.

After the Drop of Doom we went to the Batman ride. Being a huge fan of Batman, I appreciated the Gotham City theme and corresponding industrial landscape. The ride itself was pretty good. Though I rate it the 5th best ride of the day, it was by no means boring.

After Batman, we had another meal. We had eaten previously at the Panda Express located near Tatsu. Then, we had eaten with the greatest caution, as no one wants projectile vomit hurled around aboard a rollercoaster. This time, I had a tri-tip sandwich, some chips and cornbread. All the food is very expensive -- even more than food at sporting events.

I tried to have as much bread as I could in order to soak up all the liquids. I have no idea if that helps you from puking, but in my mind it made sense. I ate carefully in anticipation of us tackling the biggest and baddest rollercoaster in the park: X2.

X2 is easily the most famous and most popular rollercoaster at Magic Mountain. It's tucked away on one side of the park, and the line to embark upon it can be longer than four or five hours. We rode it twice in less than three.

X2 is also the most played-up ride. By that I mean it has its own building, complete with television screens, banners and flags bearing "X2" on them. It was apparent that we were tackling a different animal.

A look inside the X2 terminal.

We waited in line for an hour and a half before making it to the loading area of X2. Then it broke down. We sat for half an hour on the cold concrete of the loading dock, hanging from the rails that separate the lines. After over half an hour, when X2 was declared operational and test runs had been performed, the entire place burst into cheers and applause. We weren't alone in our excitement.

There are two seats per row in X2. They rotate backwards, so you're laying on your back and facing the opposite direction of the ride's motion. The first time I did it, I was by myself.

X2 begins slowly, turning out of the terminal and immediately climbing. By then it was dark, and I could see thousands of lights from all across Magic Mountain. Lights in the distance burned as well, and for a moment I was frozen on the peak. And then I plunged backwards and down, doing a back flip almost in free fall and hurling downward toward the ground before pulling up at the last second. From there, X2 twisted me around corners at almost painful speed, tossing me in my restraining harness. It helped to scream -- it really did. At these breakneck speeds with plunges and turns and dips, screaming is the best way to relieve the build up adrenaline. The huge burst of fire as I flew by one of the turns was an additional adrenaline boost -- I could feel the heat on my face.

After what seemed like a few moments though, the ride was over. My group and I disembarked, and immediately sprinted back through the now-dwindling line for a second round. It was just as good as the first time. Maybe better. I know I screamed just as loud. X2 was easily the best overall ride in the park.

At 8 pm, the lines for the rides are cut off at a certain point, and the park begins to shut down. The last screams and shouts fade, the fire dims, and the roller cars come to a halt for the night. As we walked out of Magic Mountain, blood still pumping in our heads from our second bout with X2, the park was peaceful. People were milling around ice cream shops, holding cups and cones of dessert. Two people we passed on the way out had several entire pumpkin pies. It was a welcome tranquility to the roaring, violent, tumultuous nine hours we had just endured.

Though we didn't get the chance to try all the rides, my rankings are as follows: 1. X2 2. Goliath 3. Lex Luther: Drop of Doom 4. Tatsu 5. Batman

I hope to be back for the rest of the rides soon. Until then, Magic Mountain, thank you for a world-class introduction to rollercoasters. You have my applause, my respect and my voice.

A picture I took that mixed three separate pictures. Top left: a shot of the rollercoaster Viper with a jet travelling through one of the loops in the distance. Far right: the vertical tower of the Drop of Doom (the orange coaster in the back is Golliath. Note its height.) Bottom left: A shot of two of our group members inside the X2 terminal.