Fun read on the world's greatest roller coaster:
The rickety, brown monster rose vertiginously through the trees. It looked like the Hells Angels had kidnapped Amish barn builders and forced them to erect a shrine of suicidal madness. By the time we reached the boarding station and I towered over Scooby, red cars returned with their shellshocked passengers. I felt the impulse to marry Scooby, to begin a life together on the platform where we would never separate. The teenage conductor grunted. “Chris, come on,” Heather snapped. I belted myself in, my knees nowhere close to touching the bar that was supposed to lock me in place. I just had time to say, “I don’t want to,” before the ride rocked forward.