The terror of my date with destiny
With no other option, I reluctantly made my way to this horror on tracks, and slowly up the steep first slope before all hell broke loose.
Gold Reef City is absolute fun. Or terror, to some. Picture: Supplied
Growing up, my family weren’t big on amusement parks.
Other than climbing on the odd merry-go-round as a kid, my first real experience on thrill-seeking rides was at the Rand Easter Show when I was 15.
My dad, looking to keep me busy in the school holidays, took me to Nasrec and told me to go wild. After a handful of rides I was feeling worse for wear.
On the way home, with each turn on the road, I felt like I was on yet another roller-coaster and felt desperately ill. I swore to never do it again.
Fast forward 25 years, and my wife and children forced me back to face my fears. This time at Gold Reef City to celebrate my daughter’s birthday. Street cred was on the line and I needed to step up.
We started the day off gently with a log ride, then a runaway train and did a few laps down some rapids. Next up, the Golden Loop – less than 10 seconds of sheer torture.
I should have followed my son, who made a last-minute run for it before being thrust into utter terror, but it was too late. I closed my eyes for the most part of it, and survived.
We went on a few other rides, but I was reminded I had a date with destiny on the Anaconda, a nasty ride that flings you upside down and inside out – all while your legs dangle midair.
A major storm was brewing. I thought the rain and lightning would save me. No such luck. My wife was thirsty for more.
With no other option, I reluctantly made my way to this horror on tracks, and slowly up the steep first slope before all hell broke loose. A loud mechanical cracking noise didn’t help ease the tension, nor did my wife’s comment: “sounds dodgy, hey?”
The next moments are a blur of sheer panic and chaos as I tried to piece where I was and where I was going.
It didn’t help that I was the tallest person on the ride, convinced my feet were going to clip a fence or branch amid all the confusion.
After being shaken and stirred, the ride was brought to an abrupt halt. I breathed for the first time. While we waited to get off, the kid behind me said: “I think we are now going to go backwards.”
It’s enough to send me running. I’ve got at least 25 years of excuses to find before my next experience.
Trevor Stevens
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