Week 103: Matchbox Superfast Clipper

Is this vintage Hot Wheels about adventure or what? Two-seater, flip-top, crazy color, futuristic sleekness, this old Matchbox emerges from under its rock to meet and conquer any thrills it meets.

I went to Cedar Point the other day, home of the world's greatest roller coasters such as the Dragster, Millennium Force and Magnum. Too bad I can't tie in this week's tiny car to my real life.

My oldest son, Spencer, turned 23 and for his birthday invited me and Racer Z to go with him for a final summer visit to the park. Spencer is a major coaster fan.

I was nervous, but sadly not about the fear factor of the rides. I worried about getting nauseated (I have developed an inner ear problem that now will not allow me to ride spinny rides without getting dangerously sick), about having a heart attack and subsequently leaving my son with a guilt trip, and about disappointing everyone. At the core was the worry that going to an amusement park would drive home I was getting older.

See, I once loved roller coasters. I loved them, and now was unable to ride many of them. The last time I had ridden a coaster had been with my oldest son many years ago. I had become very, very ill.

So here I was, with my oldest son, his girlfriend, and 12-yr-old Racer Z, in the park, looking at the Dragster, an amazing feat of engineering that hydraulically shoots a car along a track attaining a speed of 120 mph in less than 4 seconds and then 420 feet up a vertical climb. Like an old Chevelle, it was beautiful.

My son's girlfriend Alex doesn't like coasters, and my other son felt he wasn't ready for this one, so that left me. My first coaster in more than seven years, and one I was having a difficult getting my mind around.

Due to mechanical problems, the ride shut down for awhile, and the short version is Spencer and I hit the entrance right when they began allowing people back on the ride, so missed the huge lines.

Z asked if I was scared. "No, man. It's just a roller coaster." I felt myself remembering the long forgotten rules and codes of roller coaster riding.

I conquered the Dragster, and while only a 17 second ride, one of the coolest rides I've ever experienced. I went on to ride the Magnum, but it was in line for the Millenium Force that I had a transcendent experience.

"You ever ride this one before?" asked the guy in front of me, probably about my son's age and obviously a coaster fan.

"No, not this one yet," I said.

"Oh, it's awesome, and it's so smooth, different than other coasters."

Along with Spencer, we went on to talk about coasters, what we liked, what we didn't, what was scary, and so on. Age, experience, jobs, all went away, and it was like it should be -- dudes talking about coasters. At that moment I was happy. I was back.

Z, meanwhile, had his own doubts to wrestle, but direct ones of THAT THING IS WAY TOO TALL!!! I'M NOT GETTING ON THAT!!

Beyond the silliness of coasters, I understood the essence of fear, and I thought of my own  life and all the situations I have, and will yet, face, those in which fear stopped me, and those in which it hadn't. My son had ridden a number of rides, but his fear had stopped him from riding others he desperately wanted to try. I understood but didn't know how to help.

Toward the end of the night, Spencer was preparing to ride his favorite coaster at the park, a beast of a coaster called the Raptor, and one I can't ride because of the curves.He had previously ridden a coaster called the Mantis, and at the last minute Z had let fear get the best of him and had bailed. Now, although he said he would ride this one, looking up at the ride, fear was again ruling him.

"I can't," he said. "I want to, but I can't. I'm not ready." Spencer shook his head and went off to ride it by himself.

What could I say? Z was shaken, and disappointed with himself. I understood completely.

"Listen," I said. "I don't care if you ride this coaster or not, but you want to ride it, and one thing I've learned is that if you let fear stop you from doing something you know you can do, you probably will regret it and think about it for a long time. A coaster is a safe way of pushing past fear. A million people ride these things, and at the end of the day it's only fear. I'm not trying to push you to ride it, but I have this feeling that you need to show yourself you can do it and you'll feel really good about yourself if you do."

 It was the best I could do, but I guess it wasn't enough. We all went to find someplace to sit.

I sat at a picnic table with Alex, and Z sat at a table behind us. Z was quiet, and Alex and I chatted about a variety of things. It was now dark, and the park was lit up like a LED lollipop.

Suddenly, my son jumped up, dramatically slapped his glasses in my hand, and ran toward the entrance to the Raptor, which by this point had no lines. I was shocked, but didn't stop him.

My son was able to find Spencer, and together they rode the Raptor.

Alex and I waited, and we saw Spencer and Z emerging from the exit through the shadows, but I couldn't tell how the ride had went.

"I DID IT!!" yelled Z. "We're going to ride it again!" Z gave me a hug, and we both knew that this whole thing had been about a lot more than coasters.

For both of us.

Thank you Spencer.



Photo of my vintage Clipper, one of the old Lesney Made in England, models, courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.