High Up in the Sky

As I've mentioned before I am completely, 100%, terrified of heights. I don't like flying, I don't like rock climbing, I don't like scooting my butt to the edge of a cliff to look over, I don't like very tall staircases... you get the picture. Over the years, I've gone ahead and forced myself to do some things I don't like anyway just for the payoff of the view from the top; going to the top of the Empire State Building, The Statue of Liberty and several lighthouses.

This past weekend Joe and I went to Carowinds for his company's annual Family Fun Day event. Last year I was super bummed because I couldn't get off of work to go, but this year I was wide awake and ready to go! When we got there we hopped directly on a few coasters (oh yea, I'm fussy about those too... I ONLY do loopy-loop ones, none with massive vertical drops unless my co-rider wants a miserable rest of the day. Ehem.) and moseyed around a bit.

We had tickets to their Dinosaur exhibit, so we made our way over there. But on the way, I saw this:

Photo from Wikimedia Commons. Also, not the one at Carowinds, but the same ride structure and height.

And at first I was like, "OH MAN! SWINGS!" But then I was like, "Oh man. That's Really high.", as I stared at it towering above all the other rides. Joe asked me if I wanted to ride it and I was very non-committal about it, saying no, yes and maybe in quick succession. We decided to go see the Dinosaurs and see how I felt about it later.

No riding the Triceratops!


Watch out for the T-Rex!

We learned about all new species of dinosaurs, including the Wang-Chung-asaurus (Ok, not really, but that's what we were calling it.) and Dino-dick-head (Seriously, one of the animatronic Dinos looked like it had genitals as a head piece! I'd show you a picture but my photos were all too dark.). I'm pretty sure the exhibit was geared towards small children, but we still had fun with it. At one point there's a herd of Triceratops that are 'trapped' in a rock slide and their recorded cries made me want to hop the fence and save the animatronic babies.

My bleeding heart syndrome carries over to inanimate objects.

After our stroll through the Jurassic period, I felt like I could conquer the world so I marched right up to that Wind Seeker and got in to the non-existant line. (How awesome is it that there were no lines AND it was beautiful outside?) We were assigned our seat numbers and I stood at the gate, head high, ready to fly like the wind! All the small children in line were chattering excitedly as the ride descended from the Heavens whilst playing an epic classical number.

The last batch of riders left and we took our seats. And at that moment my brain clicked and said: "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING??"

I looked at Joe and he smiled at me. I looked at the exit, like a wild animal looking for an escape route from a predator. I tested the lap bar. DAMN IT, Locked down safe and securely! I looked at Joe again and he grabbed my hand and asked if I was ok. I was about to squeak out a 'no' as I felt myself start to tear up at the exact moment the ride began to ascend. He had my hand squeezed tightly in his and I had my phone set to take a video (from it's place secured around my neck) while I had my eyes screwed shut. I haven't watched it, but I know it's chock full of cursing and whining.

Joe said 'look' before I even realized we were at the top, the ride was that smooth. 300 fucking feet in the air and I didn't feel a thing.

And you know what? The view? Amazing. As I looked out over not only the park, but a large swath of the surrounding area, I was grinning like a loon. We got up to our top speed of 30 MPH and it earned its name as the wind blew through my hair. I may have cried a little, out of joy rather than fear this time.

Taken on the descent, you can tell because when we were up at maximum height we were well above that coaster.

It was over way too soon and we descended, just as smoothly - no flip flopping belly feelings. As the 2001: A Space Odyssey theme played over the speakers and we touched back down, I looked at Joe and asked...

"Can we go again?"

Living my one little word in little ways. Being brave when the opportunity presents itself.

P.S. Joe got a picture of our Dick-Head-Asaurus! It's a little difficult to see his, err, unit so feel free to click through to see it larger: