Conquering Heights One Scream at a Time

 

When I was younger, there was one summer tradition that always seemed to find its way onto the calendar: a trip to Cedar Point with friends.

Now, let me be clear about something. I was never a fan of heights.

Not even a little.

I was the person who could stand on a sturdy ladder and still wonder if today was the day gravity decided to work overtime. Yet somehow, every year, I'd find myself standing in line for roller coasters that looked like they were designed by people who thought common sense was optional.

The walk up to the ride was always the same. My friends were excited, laughing, and talking about how fast the coaster was. Meanwhile, I was busy questioning every life decision that had led me to that moment.

"Why am I doing this?"

"Who thought this was a good idea?"

"Can I still leave the line without anyone noticing?"

But then there was the pressure of friendship. Not the bad kind. The fun kind.

Nobody wanted to be the person sitting on the bench holding everyone's sunglasses while the rest of the group disappeared into the sky.

So I'd buckle in, grip the safety bar like I was trying to bend steel, and wait.

The climb was always the worst part.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Every sound of the chain pulling the coaster higher felt like an announcement that my stomach had officially resigned from its position.

Then came the top.

That brief moment where you could see for miles, appreciate the view, and immediately regret every decision you've made.

And then...

Down we went.

At that point, screaming became less of a choice and more of a survival strategy.

The funny thing is that after every ride, I'd step off shaking, laughing, and saying, "That was awesome!"

Then fifteen minutes later I'd be standing in another line wondering why I had agreed to do it again.

Looking back, it wasn't really about the rides.

It was about spending time with friends, making memories, and proving to myself that sometimes the things that scare you the most end up being the most fun.

Sure, I wasn't a fan of heights.

I still aren't.

But those trips taught me that sometimes you just have to hold on, scream a little, and enjoy the ride.

And if nothing else, roller coasters are great practice for adulthood. You spend a lot of time climbing, a few moments panicking, and before you know it, you're wondering where the day went.

The memories from those summers have lasted far longer than the fear ever did.

Although I still maintain that every roller coaster engineer is at least a little bit crazy.

Shop With Chuckles