aaaaaaiiiiieeeee!

Want to be spun, jerked, tossed upward, and turned upside down while hurtling along at death-defying speeds? Take a wild ride on one of Texas’ state-of-the-art roller coasters—and don’t forget to scream.

by John Morthland

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AND THOSE ARE JUST THE new coasters. During my forays into the four Texas theme parks, I found other instant favorites, particularly the Texas Tornado at Six Flags Astroworld (which leads the state with eleven coasters) and Mr. Freeze at Six Flags Over Texas. The former is a German import designed by Anton Schwarzkopf, the father of the vertically looping roller coaster. The Texas Tornado rips around no fewer than four loops. The ascent of the first hill was so comfy, I had no idea how high we were until we got to the top—and then shot almost straight down so recklessly I thought we might turn upside down right then and there. The subsequent hard-angle curves and loops came in such rapid succession that I had nary a moment to collect my wits; the train moved like a snake riding a bull in a monsoon. When the coaster came to a stop and then chugged slowly into the station, I heard more nervous laughter than on any other coaster I rode.

Mr. Freeze, a LIM that hits 70 miles an hour 3.78 seconds out of the station, provides an out-of-body experience. Just watching this one is intimidating, and the excruciatingly long lines don’t help; more than a few people get to the front and then opt for the “chicken exit.” Mr. Freeze is basically two modified loops, with a few twists and turns, followed by a long, torturous climb up a ninety-degree incline; there’s a brief hesitation at the top, then the train drops straight down and repeats the track backward. This takes all of 45 seconds.

My other favorites in Arlington are the indoor Runaway Mountain, a short but frantic dash through the dark with serious G-force and one big drop at the end, and Shock Wave, which provides a nice view of Interstate 30 and a lot of airtime, plus two vertical loops. In Houston Ultra Twister sends you flying face-first down a terrifying 90-degree first drop, then enters a cylindrical, steel-bar “cage” inside which the train spins 360 degrees around the track while still hurtling forward; then it reverses direction, completing two backward 360’s while returning to the station.

With the exception of Gwazi at Busch Gardens, which is a wooden roller coaster, all of the above are steel rides, which were first introduced in the fifties. But Texas also boasts two world-class woodies, and a third that comes close. They can’t flip you upside down around a loop, but they jostle on their tracks more than the steel machines, and they are much bigger than the nostalgia-inducing wooden coasters of yore. The Texas Giant, at Six Flags Over Texas, which repeatedly tops polls as America’s best woodie, offers astonishing airtime; after a brief pause near the middle, it concludes with a wicked series of short—but steep and sharp—drops and curves. The Rattler at Six Flags Fiesta Texas is billed as one of the tallest (180 feet) and fastest (65 miles an hour) woodies, though enthusiasts grumble that it seems to slow down a little more each year (you couldn’t prove it by me). The Rattler, which rattles on the tracks (like a snake—get it?), swoops over the limestone canyon walls of the park and then drops down into a tunnel through the stone. The Texas Cyclone at Six Flags Astroworld is a larger replica of the original Cyclone at New York’s Coney Island, and while its dips and curves aren’t truly challenging, there are a lot of them, making for a kinetic one-minute ride.

I have to admit that I met my match a couple of times, though not enough to leave attendants any “protein spills” (another rather colorful trade term) to clean up. The Flashback in Arlington, which negotiates a short track with three dizzying loops, first forward and then backward, left me feeling legless and gasping for water—and needing a long break before I felt like riding again. This was puzzling, since I hadn’t been fazed by similar coasters at Six Flags Astroworld (the single-loop Greezed Lightnin’) and Fiesta Texas (the new Boomerang), and the Flashback is basically a smaller, slower, and easier version of my old pal Mr. Freeze. But the simple truth is that I rode the Flashback the first thing one morning, when I was still waking up, and I got lazy and forgot to scream. I paid for my omission. Then there was the Joker’s Revenge at Six Flags Fiesta Texas, where I rode most of the coasters with my nine-year-old friend Sam Shahin. He couldn’t wait to get to this ride, his favorite from previous visits. It departs from a Batman-themed station full of sound, flashing light, and “laughing gas,” then undertakes a loop, two corkscrews, and a helix—all backward. I learned from this experience that I like my backward to take place in conjunction with some forward.

WHICH BRINGS US TO THE INEVITABLE QUESTION: Why? I have, after all, just described being jerked, spun, pinned down, tossed upward, jostled sideways, and repeatedly turned upside down at whiz-bang speeds. And, yes, I want more. Some people think they know the reason, with explanations that range from scientific to simplistic. According to geneticists, some of us may have “novelty genes” that keep our nerve cells from properly absorbing the brain chemical dopamine, which heightens pleasure; those people will unconsciously gravitate toward thrilling experiences that boost their dopamine levels, however briefly.

Says Tim Baldwin of ACE: “The roller coaster has always been and always will be the king of the midway. Maybe it’s because you can feel like you’re taking a wild risk, but in the back of your mind you know you’ll be safe. But the main thing people like is that they’re fun, just great fun.”

I agree with Baldwin—but with a bow to New Age physician Andrew Weil. In his 1972 book The Natural Mind: An Investigation of Drugs and the Higher Consciousness, Weil argues that getting high is a natural human urge, citing as an example children who spin themselves in circles until they get so dizzy they fall down. Maybe that’s why I’m such a fan of free-fall tower rides like Scream (Six Flags Fiesta Texas), the Wildcatter (Six Flags Over Texas), and especially Dungeon Drop (Six Flags Astroworld). They take you slowly to the top of a tower about two hundred feet high, then drop you to the ground in seconds. If you ride coasters for the rush, these are for you.

By the way, I’ve also found some support for my theory on screaming. “This is just a guess, but the wooziness people feel on a roller coaster may be related to low blood pressure, and the dizziness may be as well,” says Dexter Speck, an associate professor of physiology at the University of Kentucky Albert B. Chandler Medical Center in Lexington. “When you yell and scream, you increase abdominal pressure. This redistributes blood throughout the body, preventing pooling in the extremities. Also, when you focus on something else, like screaming, you’re less influenced by the dips and curves of the ride.”

Universal Studios, which recently opened Islands of Adventure in Orlando, Florida, hired Cambridge, Massachusetts, psychologist Brian Newmark to help coasterphobes overcome their fears. The Harvard-trained Newmark had people scream as they watched a Ridefilm simulating the experience of being on a roller coaster and reached two conclusions. The first: Screaming helps the rider breathe in a more regular pattern; otherwise, he’ll tighten up and become uncomfortable. Second, “Screaming gives expression to the inner turmoil you feel by releasing it,” Newmark says. “It short-circuits your flight-fight tendency. When you scream, you don’t scream out of fear; it’s more like an affirmation. You’ve got to give yourself over to the ride to enjoy it.”

I can hardly wait for the one that you ride lying down.

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