Richard Bannister

Earlier this week I spent about twenty minutes looking for things to do on my last morning in Seattle. The most obvious choice was to visit the Boeing factory, but I'd promised The War Department that I wouldn't go there without her. My two constraints were that I'd have my heavy suitcase with me, thus limiting my ability to walk to places, and that I needed to be at the airport by 4:00pm, which necessitated departing the city centre no later than 3:00pm. It will come as no surprise to the reader that I decided against all reason to hire a car and drive three and a half hours to a kiddie coaster. Getting there for opening required an embarrassingly early start, but I figured (correctly) that doing that would help me sleep on my flight home.

Prior to making any arrangements I took the time to contact Country Mercantile to double check opening hours. It was therefore mildly disconcerting to arrive on site and see no sign of activity in the ride area, but a member of staff at the cash register sold me a five dollar ride ticket and told me someone would be with me shortly. Moments later a young man materialised out of nowhere and switched on a power distribution panel. He then walked over to Roller Coaster (#2249) and helped me board.

My ticket entitled me to three laps, and I fully expected to do them all in the front seat. The operator had other ideas, however; at the end of lap one he encouraged me to move to the back of the train which was (apparently) scarier. The drop was certainly better in that location, though to be honest the scariest thing about the ride was the amount of visible rust. The experience was entirely typical for a smaller Miler ride, and with the credit obtained I didn't hang around.

My second stop of the day was deliberately planned to be close to the airport, so that I could skip it in the event of traffic problems. Fortunately the entire route was free flowing, and as a result I arrived at the park well ahead of schedule. The extra time proved beneficial subsequently when a nasty accident on I-405 caused an hour long tailback, and while I'd have caught my flight regardless the extra buffer was very beneficial for my blood pressure.

Admission was by a fifteen dollar wristband, which covered unlimited use of all attractions subject to height and weight requirements. Quite a few of the amusement rides were off limits to adults, but there was no issue at all with Mine-Twister (#2250), a clone of the machine I'd ridden a few hours earlier at Country Mercantile. There was a sign quoting a maximum of 250lbs per car, which could eliminate a few enthusiasts, but was more than enough margin for me.

With the credit complete I spent a bit of time exploring the grounds, reasoning that this was a park I'd probably not be returning to for a while. I particularly liked the Hay Maze, a novel take on the typical hedge maze, though I was unable to photograph it due to the presence of a lot of children. The Antique Cars passed a few minutes, and though the ride didn't have much by way of theming the track was of a good length. My car got stuck in one of the braking zones, but an attentive operator spotted what had happened and came running over to give it a push.