Yesterday I made my annual
trip to the happiest place in the midwest – the Iowa State Fair.
Other state fairs may come close, but I agree with the marketing
geniuses who declared “Nothing Compares to the Iowa State Fair.”
Nothing compares to the food (deep fried, bacon-wrapped, chocolate
dipped, and on a stick), the fun (outhouse races), the culture
(balloon sculptures), the spectacle (the gargantuan bull, boar and
ram), the long lines (for the butter cow), the butter cow (at the end
of the line), or the traditions (all of the above).
And for me, nothing compares to the
terror of The Sky Glider.
I've had my moments of unbridled
emotion before, but nothing compares to the near-hysteria of The Sky
Glider this year – not even the time my Billy Joel concert ticket
was so close I could see the stage with my bare eyes!
After a full day of fair fun my
fair-going friends and I decided to wrap things up with a round-trip
Sky Glider ride. Twice the ride, twice the terror.
The ride got off to an rocky start when
it stopped – briefly – just after we reached cruising altitude
(far enough off the ground to make my palms sweat). The ride
restarted and I resumed my white-knuckle grip on the safety bar just before The Princess – my daughter, rock of bravery and gondola partner –
said “Oh.”
“Oh?” I asked, WITHOUT turning my
head OR MOVING in any manner.
“I can't do this.”
“Oh.”
I realized I would have to dig down
deep into my Super Mom Power reserves to keep it together and set a
good example. I had no choice but to suck it up and my assume my
resp-Mom-sibilities. I relaxed my grip a little, forced a smile, and
began chatting about all the ways this ride WAS NOT ABSOLUTELY
TERRIFIYING. I even managed to LET GO OF THE SAFETY BAR WITH ONE HAND
long enough to point out the lovely architectural details adorning
the roof line of the historic agriculture building. I pointed out the
happy people in the gondolas on the return side, the lovely breeze,
the dense foliage BENEATH US AND OHMYGODLOOKUP! Look UP, UP! at those fluffy, white clouds.
All the while I was mentally
cataloging the things that TERRIFIED ME:
 |
| What happened to those riders? |
- Looking DOWN at the roof line of the ag building.
- The riders on the return side who were smiling and laughing as if UNAWARE OF THE DANGER WE WERE IN.
- The riders who looked AS TERRIFIED AS ME BECAUSE THEY REALIZED WE COULD PLUMMET TO OUR DEATH AT ANY MOMENT.
- The gondolas which were empty BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY THE PASSENGERS ALREADY FELL TO THEIR DEATHS.
- The dense foliage BENEATH US that would IMPALE US BEFORE WE CRASHED TO THE GROUND.
- The asphalt roads BENEATH US which we would SOON BE SPLATTERED UPON.
- And the fluffy clouds WHICH SHOULD BE MUCH FARTHER ABOVE US.
By that time we were NEARLY
three-quarters of the way up the hill – or nearly three-quarters of
the way to the HALFWAY point if you have forgotten AND HOW COULD YOU
FORGET? that we were making a round trip – and I had begun to
giggle nervously, and maybe cry a little . . . because that's just
what happens when I start to giggle uncontrollably/hysterically.
It was at precisely this moment The
Third Musketeer – who was riding solo in the gondola behind us –
announced that she WOULD NOT BE MAKING THE ROUND TRIP ON THE SKY
GLIDER OF TERROR. And I started to giggle/cry a little harder because
I HAD JUST BEEN THINKING THE SAME THING! I gave her a thumbs up over
my shoulder BECAUSE I COULD NOT TURN MY HEAD AND LET GO OF THE SAFETY
BAR AT THE SAME TIME.
That was when we FINALLY began our descent,
and I was able to take an actual breath and look around me and
that stubborn, pig-headed, go-big-or-go-home, warrior-princess within
me said AWWW HELL NO! I WILL NOT BE BEATEN BY AN IRRATIONAL FEAR! I
WILL NOT BACK DOWN!
And in a quieter but no less
convincing voice, the cheapskate in me said I will not waste a return
ticket. I MAY BE A CHICKEN BUT I AM A CHEAP CHICKEN AND BY GOD I
PRE-PAID FOR A ROUND TRIP RIDE SO I'M DAMN WELL GOING TO MAKE A ROUND
TRIP RIDE.
So I TURNED to face The Princess and I
asked her if she wanted to get off or if she wanted to ride back down
the hill WITH me. She looked at me with admiration – or as if I had
sprouted a horn on my forehead – and considered her answer
carefully before answering.
“I will ride back with you. Because
I don't think we can pry your hands off the safety bar.”
I would love to say that we bravely
continued our ride and we lived happily ever after.
But the truth is I had just dried my
cheeks and started to realize I HAD MADE A HORRENDOUS MISTAKE when
our gondola came around the end point to begin the return ride and
the nice young man checked the safety bar and smiled at us.
“Enjoy the ride,” he said.
And I started laughing so hard I
SNORTED and the look of surprise on his face was so funny that I
laughed HARDER and when we reached cruising altitude and the RIDE
STOPPED AGAIN DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN my eyes filled with tears. And for
the entire two-and-a-half hour (or five minute) return trip The
Princess and I laughed and “ooohed” and “awwwed” as we
watched the lights of the midway, and talked about the breeze and the
architecture and the foliage and the smell of deep fried,
bacon-wrapped, chocolate-dipped fun on a stick.
And made plans for doing it ALL again
next year.
If you're not afraid of heights, or if you want to experience them vicariously, check
out this video (not shot by me, obviously because there is no screaming): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcSwm-5V5Zs
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