Ghostrider Knott's Berry Farm August 20th, 1999 S T A T S Manufacturer: Custom Coasters International Height:118 feet Extreme elements:108 foot drop, 4,533 feet of track Length of ride: 2 minutes 40 seconds Novelty: trains cross Grand Avenue four times during the trip

Knott's Berry Farm is America's oldest themed amusement park and until recently, was owned and operated by the Knott family since 1920. A couple of years ago, the ever-growing family destination became part of the Cedar Fair L.P. family and got a much-needed influx of cash. The park's last couple of rollercoaster entries were fun--the long and slinky Jaguar, the nostalgic Windjammer, but they were just that--fun. Nowhere near the head-trip of rides like the classic Montezooma's Revenge or the still-thrilling Boomerang. But Cedar Fair made their intentions clear when steel starting going up on the awesome Supreme Scream, a triple tower of S&S Power drop rides that simply dwarfed the old stand-by Parachute Sky Jump. So when Knott's announced that they were finally putting in a western-themed wooden coaster, enthusiasts everywhere held their collective breaths and hoped for the best.

And that's just what they got: the best in the west.

As we drove up Crescent Boulevard towards the park, Ghostrider poked above the treeline as if to say, "howdy--y'all lookin' for some action?" The next shock happened as we pulled into the shopping and dining parking lot and got a good look at this monster as it straddled Grand Avenue in a classic L-shape of an out-and-back layout. Nary a piece of flat track to be seen anywhere--this was going to be one hell of a trip. We met up with Erin, our friendly P.R. contact, who announced that she was too frightened of heights to embark on the park's newest scream machine. Towering 118 feet over the newly extended section of Ghost Town, it sure is a creation to give one vertigo.

We hopped into the front seat and strapped ourselves in, ready for what coaster fans from around the world were already hailing as one of the best new woodies in ages. Sure enough, the ride don't fool around with a pokey little jaunt out of the station. We cascaded down into a valley of beautifully landscaped yucca plants, desert weed and old mining equipment, charging and snorting at a quick clip and pulling a few early screams out of some timid riders. We connected with the lift and began the ascent--getting our first bird's eye view of the layout.

Wow.

Say goodbye to Ghost Town for awhile, I thought--and we hit the crest and plunged down that first drop, 108 feet down, angled at a heart-stopping 51 degrees. In the valley of timbers, we banked to the left and climbed up a massive second hill, flying out of our seats and then slamming down into them again as we entered a 180 degree left turnaround that sloped down wickedly in the middle. I was astounded at how smooth the rails were riding, but I didn't have much time to muse on that bit of information.

We had straightened out and were diving down again, seemingly faster and faster, nailing air-time with each successive camel hump. The next right turn is loaded with thigh pounding lateral G-forces and we were thanking the train designers for the little cushioned divider in the middle of the seat--it would save us from being bruised the next morning. Charging up a rise, we hit the only flat section of track, some sort of mid-way reprieve from the sheer relentless pace delivered so far. It's a sharp 180 to the right with just enough time to take a breath and survey the layout one more time. Where we goin' nooowwwww? I thought as we fell to earth again, this time with such power that I stayed out of my seat for the entire sail down--we blew right through the trim brakes. Then, a crazily banked left turn that leads back into more air-time inducing hills and dips. And the speed. The trains travel 60+ m.p.h. and that doesn't seem to be an average--this baby seems to pick up speed with each succeeding manuever.

Then, we were in the second level of the first 180, this time heading right. Most coasters have already spent themselves at this point, but not Ghost Rider. We were still clattering along on a glassy earthquake, a storm with wheels. No baby-bunny hops here--every dip kicked us in the ass and then, just when it seemed to be all over, we buzzed the first drop and launched into a wild spiral that grew tighter and tighter, geez, was this a 540 degree turn or what? And then, it was over. We had just been pummeled, in a gentle way, by 4,533 feet of beauteous bodaciousness. We were still shaking our heads and grinning like fools as the train coasted into the station. That was the front seat.

Needless to say, the back seat was a whole other animal--still smooth as silk, but vicious with a passion, and the air-time? Forget about it, might as well call this wooden treat a stand-up coaster--I don't think my butt was on the seat much.

We came back later and rode in the evening when the entire track is lined with yellow-ish chaser lights, giving the effect of tracers as you blur past them--aesthetically, it gives the layout an ethereal look and certainly makes you want to just stand there and respect its gorgeousness. Ghostrider is, without a doubt, world-class and beyond--a compelling, nerve-wrenching, teeth-clenching monster that doesn't need to thrash you to prove its point. It'll be interesting to see how it rides as it gets older, for like a fine wine--most wooden coasters develop distinct personalities as the years begin to season them. Well, if your average new woodie starts off as a two-year old Zinfandel, then Ghostrider is a huge bottle of Dom Perignon already--and Lord help us all when that bottle is uncorked some years in the future. Having had our hides thoroughly tanned, we packed it up (not before enjoying a nice, meandering day in the park, another of my old workplaces) and prepared for the long drive back to Texas. There, we'd wrap up this year's tour with a double-whammy.