Drop In! (dropz01.avi 45 seconds/1MB)

We stayed at a little place nearby, very quaint; with an in-room whirlpool that got lots of use after that three-park pier jaunt. We now came rolling up to a place that I used to visit with pal Larry Meza on Friday nights when bored to tears. There had been some additions since my last visit, but none so high-profile as this thing. Somewhere, someone got it into their head that the future of thrills involved not large amounts of track or fancy inversions and tittilating speed, but instead served up a vision of happy theme park guests falling uncontrollably towards the ground.

How else could you explain the seeming proliferation of these beasts, fearful sentinels beckoning you from across the park. "Come ride me", they taunt. Oh yes, people will pay to be frightened out of their gourd, and Drop Zone delivers with a no-nonsense payload.

Named after the Paramount picture starring Wesley Snipes, Drop Zone is a call-back to the thrill rides of yesteryear, the daredevil exploits of would-be aeronauts and adventurers were put to the test by some wacky contraptions on the midway, especially Coney Island. Some of the rides and attractions seemed like little more than an excuse to put yourself into the most inconceivable situation possible at that time and laughing in the face of danger. Here, of course, your danger is imagined, but it doesn't take much to get the adrenalin pumping and that lump in your throat is probably your heart, or depending on what portion of the ride cycle you're experiencing, your stomach.

A sign at the entrance to the queue announces that "stunt doubles" are needed for a shoot involving the "tower sequence". The director briefs you while you await your casting call. The color scheme is bright, hot pinks, yellows, reds, purples and other primary shades. Particulary foreboding are the huge nets strung around the base of the tower, obviously there to catch whatever happens to fall victim to the sudden forces of gravity 22 stories above the Santa Clara soil.

With a thumbs up, I sat along with three nervous young men who didn't seem quite sure about this whole situation. With legs dangling over the edge, I noticed that these ride vehicles allow for a lot more freedom of movement than the older Intamin drop rides. You also don't have the annoyance of ending up on your back at the base of the freefall. You return to your starting point, sort of disheartening at first, as you wonder what exactly is slowing you down! Not to worry, a good measure of trim brakes await your speedy return to earth. With that in mind, our stunt coordinator wished us a good trip and we began the 200+ foot ascent.

The going is slow, until you clear the trim brakes and then the vehicle picks up speed. Feeling slightly vulnerable with my legs hanging over the edge, I watched as the park grew smaller and spread out before me. The apex approaches rather quickly and as an added jab to your already nervous stomach, the vehicle stops, then slowly inches up to its optimum point. There are five ride paths to the top and it seems that all are dispatched at the same time, yet travel at different speeds to the top. However, that last bit of height adjustment takes care of that in short order.

There was an interminable bit of silence as we hung there, legs dangling. From just behind my head, a voice piped up. This wasn't audible from down below, maybe this is helpful to calm wigged-out guests. The voice said "3...2...1...drop" and we were released. I don't know how many of you have free-fallen over 200 feet, but it's one of the oddest experiences you may ever have. "Express elevator to HELL!", I cried as we dropped like four very large rocks. Halfway through the fall, I almost got used to it, savoring the sensation, my legs involuntarily rising up to remain straight out in front of me. The three teenage guys were screaming bloody murder. Suddenly, as the ground rushed up to say "howdy", we slowed to a suprisingly comfortable speed and eased back into the starting position.

Amazingly, we ran through the park in about two hours and hit everything, my co-producer Christine, huffing and puffing after me. Having once spent a part of my life in this region of the universe, I had been to this park before, but hadn't been on the excellent Top Gun, which seriously has you believing you can fly at times. It was time now, however, to make the big horseshoe and head back south for bit of a reunion