I took the plunge…

Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 20/06/2012 (4840 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

It’s overcast and cool, but my golf shirt is soaked with sweat and icy fingers of fear have wrapped themselves around my heart, which is pounding away like the drummer for a heavy metal band.

In the pit of my stomach, a feeling of dread is trying to claw its way to freedom.

Here’s the scene: It’s a little after noon Tuesday and I’ve just been locked into the front seat of Nitro, the new monster roller-coaster that’s packing in about 1,000 thrill-seeking riders every hour at the Red River Ex.

Here are the specs on Nitro: At about 10,000 square feet, it’s the largest travelling coaster in North America (it takes six tractor-trailers to move it around) and the Ex is its first Canadian stop. It hits speeds of 60 kilometres per hour as it rockets along 1,099 feet of track, up and down and around heart-stopping twists and turns.

Here are my specs: At six-four and 280 pounds, I’m a huge weenie when it comes to any midway ride more menacing than the spinning teacups. I developed an irrational fear of coasters when I was an 11-year-old in Vancouver and took a stomach-churning ride moments after stuffing my face with spaghetti and meatballs. It did not end well.

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So, I’m not exactly thrilled to be here. A few months back, I wrote about a contest to name this travelling coaster (I suggested Vomit Comet or Meatball’s Revenge) and, when Jodi Johnson, the Ex’s communications manager, suggested I take a test ride, for reasons I still don’t understand, I muttered: "Yeah, sure."

Now, as we edge our way up to Nitro, Jodi tries to reassure me. "Gee, Doug, the seats sure look comfy," she coos in a soothing voice. I find little comfort in her words. As a crusading journalist with steely blue eyes, I want my mommy.

As we await our turn, North American Midway’s vice-president of client services — whose name is Gregg Korek but he goes by "Scooter" — explains Nitro is a refurbished Galaxy coaster. "It’s better than a brand-new roller-coaster because we rebuilt it from the ground up," Scooter declares. "It has a brand-new braking system.

"It has a state-of-the-art safety system," Scooter adds.

I am also mildly comforted when one of the guys running this beast says a plucky four-year-old city kid (apparently he was big for his age) rode Nitro 15 times in a row without having a heart attack.

Locked in the front seat with Scooter, I ask whether I’m just a wimp or if this ride is truly scary. "This is a thrill ride in every sense of the world," Scooter gushes. "It’s for the hardcore midway rider. It’s a pretty scary ride. The very first hill is very, very exciting. It’s a pure adrenalin rush."

And now (yikes!) the ride has started, and our car is moving slowly — painfully slowly, in my view — and we are inching up and up towards the tippy top of that first (bad word) hill.

"It’s the anticipation that kills you," Scooter beams, a heartbeat before we plunge down the hill, which is kind of like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel, except your barrel doesn’t have a lid and, in your mind, you know you’re going to be ejected any second and flattened like a penny on a railroad track.

At this point, I’d like to describe what the experience was like. Unfortunately, every ounce of my mental energy was focused on one vital task — clutching the front handlebar with a white-knuckled death grip.

Had you been there, you’d have heard me, over and over, shrieking: "OK! OK! OK! AIEEEEEEEE!" I also shriek Scooter’s name repeatedly, but I tell him later he shouldn’t read anything into that, if you catch my drift.

They tell me there’s an awesome view of the city from the top of the ride, but, for safety reasons, I kept my eyes glued shut.

For the purposes of getting cool photos and video, I ride Nitro three (extremely bad word) times. The entire ride takes just over one minute, which translates into roughly three hours for confirmed weenies like myself.

Free Press multimedia editor Tyler Walsh, who rides along to film me screaming, says the coaster reminds him of the Mega Drop, which hoists you 130 feet in the air and lets you plummet to the ground in under two seconds. "There’s that exact same feeling of weightlessness and fear," Tyler chortles, happy as a high-tech clam.

As for me, I wobble away, unsteady as a frat boy at a kegger. This ride is terrifying. It’s horrifying. You’re going to love it.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca