Amusement Park Nightmare Leaves Riders Hanging On For Dear Life
Amusement parks are supposed to be fun, right? Well, not for me. I have a deep-seated hatred for scary rides. Roller coasters, free-falls, pendulums—they all make me want to hurl. If you’ve ever felt your stomach leap into your throat, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
But my disdain isn’t just a random phobia. It’s rooted in real-life horror stories. Take, for instance, the recent fiasco at Oaks Park in Portland, Oregon. Oaks Park, the oldest amusement park in Oregon, opened in 1905. Despite its charming age, its rides aren’t always so charming. Case in point: AtmosFEAR. This pendulum ride swings in a full 360-degree circle while spinning the unfortunate souls strapped in.
Sounds like a nightmare, right? It became one. Last Friday, AtmosFEAR lived up to its name. It got stuck while pointing straight up. All 28 riders were left hanging—literally. Upside down. For nearly 30 minutes. Most were high-school kids who initially kept their cool. But calmness turned to panic as minutes ticked by. The park officials decided to close the park and announced it over the loudspeaker. Just imagine: you’re already dangling in terror, and then you hear, “We’re closing the park now.” Fantastic.
Eventually, workers managed to manually lower the ride, though it happened quite suddenly. Like, “Oops, sorry for the abrupt drop!” kind of suddenly.
Luckily, no one was seriously hurt, but one person did get a precautionary trip to the hospital. The ride, ironically, delivered a bit too much atmosphere.
So, why do I avoid these terrifying contraptions? Because I’d rather be the hero who holds everyone’s bags and snacks. Those people are the unsung champions of amusement parks. Think about it: you can stroll around, enjoy a churro, and laugh at the sheer absurdity of the adrenaline junkies screaming their lungs out. You get to keep your lunch firmly in your stomach and your dignity intact.
Plus, your friends owe you. Big time. You’re providing a crucial service, safeguarding everyone’s stuff while they flirt with gravity and death. Without you, where would they stash their $12 sodas and overpriced souvenirs? You are the rock, the steady hand in the whirlwind of their thrill-seeking insanity.
So next time someone tries to coax you onto a scary ride, just remember the chaos at Oaks Park. Politely decline and offer to hold their things instead. You’ll be the real MVP of the day, safe on solid ground, with your lunch where it belongs.