In 1999, I rode my first rollercoaster, a humble Pinfari Zyklon. It was unnerving to me at ten years old, but no big deal. It was scrapped the next year and I never got another ride.
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(Not the Zyklon I rode on. Next to no images exist of it.)
In 2007 I rode Kraken at SeaWorld Orlando. I wasn't even on the front or back row but I was scared shìtless on the way up the lift hill, holding my head back, gritting my teeth and gripping the restraint's handles for dear life.
I certainly had no idea that I'd just discovered my passion.
The next day I rode Hulk at Islands of Adventure and something clicked. I wasn't sticking my arms up but I was cheering instead of clamping my mouth shut in fear.
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Already I was much more confident. I also rode the ice side of Dueling Dragons, Blizzrock (Rest In Pieces) and the near misses were exhilarating.
Two years later, I visited Thorpe Park near London, and aimed straight for front row of the tallest, fastest ride there, Stealth. An Intamin Rocket model hydraulic launch coaster, and then possessor of the world's second highest acceleration (third today). Again, I didn't put my arms up.
Fast forward nine years, I had developed a coaster obsession, despite having never ridden any since 2009. Maybe being trapped in a chemo ward for months had me yearning for a release. I planned and executed visits to Alton Towers and Blackpool Pleasure Beach. I had to fly over a thousand miles and drive over half that many again, but my confidence was now unshakeable. I had to ride as many coasters as possible, whatever the cost.
I started with Oblivion, a B&M Dive Machine, the world's first vertical drop coaster. I was suddenly nervous again. I didn't put my arms up as I plunged deep underground. It was quite the rush after nine years of coaster inceldom.
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I very briefly had doubts. Was this hobby really for me? I rode it again and, sat next to me was a girl in her early twenties. I told her to put her arms up as we hung briefly over the black pit of Oblivion. She did. I didn't. Down we went.
I had great fun on that trip, and I was happy to have found a calling of sorts. Never a social person, and absorbed until then in my "indoor" hobbies, I had finally found something that promised to take me across the planet.
And it did.
I now put my arms and legs up on every ride, however fast, tall, or intense. I suffer great physical pain on rough older coasters (cough cough Vekoma) but I refuse to be daunted by any of it. I also easily convert the less daring when waiting in ride queue lines. I have convinced many strangers to give a coaster a shot. Afterwards they loved it.
So about that whole confidence thing; it comes from your steadfast determination to see something through. Others can help you if they have the best intentions for you, but it has to come from you. My family hates rollercoasters, and ridicules me for flying thousands of miles away on my own to ride them. I pity them.
