I have always been captivated by roller coasters. It surprises me that ordinary and
average people eagerly trade in the stillness of the ground for a chance to be tossed around in the
air like water coming out of a sprinkler. It amazes me that in some point in time, someone
thought that people would enjoy this. The force of twisting tracks, loops and turns send chills
through my body. It is precisely the thrill and excitement of having survived the fateful ride that
My first experience with a roller coaster ride was at Six Flags over Texas, in Arlington,
Texas. Staring at that looping, twisting beast, whirling the life out of people left me enthralled.
It was so enormous, noisy, fast and very much intimidating. Ever since that first glance, my
imagination has always made me think of roller coasters as beasts, carrying off their screaming
passengers. Even the rambling sounds of the tracks brings to mind a mighty roar of a lion
The first ride on one of these fantastic beasts gave me a rush of adrenaline. As the death
defying ride started, butterflies fluttered in my stomach, as if they were trying to escape from a
small jar. There was a short pause upon the first hill, and my body seemed to relax for a short
moment. Then there came the stomach turning weightlessness as the beast descended toward
the ground. The screams were loud enough to curl your toes. The ride gained momentum, and
the resistence to gravity built up against my body until I was not able to move.
Every sharp turn, and descent left me overwhelmed, and gave me more confidence.
I had survived the death defying plunges to the ground. Finally, the ride was over, and I knew I
was addicted to this racing beast. Physically and emotionally depleted, I followed the
passengers down the long ramp to the exit.
A ride on a roller coaster never failed to
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