Trares
The small hand reached out for mine, clutching it tightly.
I could barely see Anthony’s face sitting in the seat of the roller coaster, as it was obscured by the harness that kept him tightly strapped in next to me. But I could tell he was nervous.
We had come to Cedar Point for the weekend, a thrill-seekers dream situated on the shores of Lake Erie. Coming here had become an annual tradition, coinciding with a visit to see my dad, usually around his birthday. Anthony had been coming since he was a baby and we pushed him around in a stroller, riding on attractions such as the train or the paddleboat that we could all go on.
But as he grew older, Anthony started showing more interest in the real rides. He wanted to go on the kids’ size roller coaster, and all of the Snoopy-themed twisty rides offered at the amusement park.
Last year, it felt like he was ready to level up. He wanted to ride with me or my wife on the Scrambler, the Monster and the Matterhorn — twisty, turny rides that spiked the adrenaline for a minute at a time.
Anthony even thought he could do some of the smaller roller coasters. But when we went in 2022, he was an inch too short to ride.
This time around, we made sure he was all clear. At 48.5 inches, he could go on pretty much anything in the park. All he had to overcome was his fear.
As soon as we walked in the door, we went straight to the rides. All of us jumped on Ocean Motion, a pendular pirate ship that swung back and forth. He and my wife rode the Super Himalaya, which spun them around with increasing centripetal force.
Properly warmed up, Anthony was ready for his first real-life, grown-up roller coaster. We picked the Iron Dragon, which suspended from a track and whipped you around through woods and swamps as if you were flying.
We approached the line for the ride, which only had a 15-minute wait. As we stood there, Anthony’s brave facade faltered slightly. He watched the rattling cars come swooping back, over and over, with worry on his face. He asked me and my wife repeatedly how scary the roller coaster was, as we assured him it was fun.
The closer we got to the front of the line, the more he muttered under his breath, “I can do this.”
Finally, it was our turn to ride. We climbed in the coaster train, pulled down the protective harnesses and waited to start. That’s when he slid his hand into mine; I squeezed it tightly, to let him know I was right there with him.
The rollercoaster started with a lurch, then the clickety-clack of climbing the first hill. I couldn’t see what was on Anthony’s face, but he didn’t cry or whimper as we got closer. For a moment, we the clicking stopped, and the ride swooped down with ferocity.
Down and up, side to side we zoomed along the track. The whole time, Anthony held my hand tightly, as I tried to pump him up with laughter and yells.
The last section of the coaster was a pair of twisty loops that went by in a blur. In an instant, we braked to a stop, hanging in the air waiting for our turn to disembark.
I looked over at Anthony’s face, expecting to see a look of exasperation, or maybe even tears. Instead, he was beaming.
“I did it!” he exclaimed, proud of his accomplishment. I was proud too.
We rode the Iron Dragon one more time before the day was over. Anthony acted like a seasoned veteran at this point — nothing phased him. Although that was the only roller coaster we did that day, he’s already making plans for next year, riding slightly more intense rides.
I can’t wait to be there with him when he does.
Ryan Trares is a senior reporter and columnist for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
