The anticipation of the free-fall was almost more than I could bear.
I never was a huge fan of roller coasters. As a child I was deathly afraid. My friends would stand in line for hours, strap in for two and a half minutes, then chase each other to the end of the line wobbling back and forth like a candidate for an early morning DUI and then wait again. My first experience on a roller coaster was not of my own free will. I was tricked!
It was an indoor roller coaster at Dollywood and I had no idea that near the end of the ride the bottom would drop out and we would be thrust into a death-defying descent into a bottomless pit (so it seemed). You know what I did, I unstrapped myself and began a mad dash, chasing my friends to the end of the line just to wait again. From that point forward, anytime I heard the “rachety-rachety-rachety” of the train climbing to the sky, my stomach tied itself in knots as it awaited the pending dive into breathlessness. I hated being out of control. But the thrill of the hill was worth the fear of not knowing.
And now I am riding another roller coaster. One without …