Conneaut Lake Park, Part 2: iPhone Snaps

For Andrea.

I wonder how many souls of children this “joyful clown” has stolen over the years.

This guy has been the same age since 1805.

Waiting for the Blue Streak attendant to finish his cigarette. No, seriously. Every other time we walked past, he was hanging out across the walkway at the hot dog stand. I mean, what else was he going to do? Perform safety inspections?

The gift shop sold everything but Conneaut souvenirs (OK, there was a small table of glassware). In search of Abraham’s bust? They got you covered. Creepy half-ceramic / half-plush clown dolls for $3? There’s a whole stash! (Henry Warbucks totally bought me one, albeit grudgingly.) Mementos for being a hick? Racks and racks of fishing t-shirts to peruse at your leisure.

It stunk in there so bad like old people and moth balls, but it provided refuge from the rain.

My favorite part of these little amusement parks is finding all of the strange and old rides that you just wouldn’t ever come across at Six Flags. Conneaut’s claim is the Witch’s Stew. Holy fuck, as if it weren’t enough that there are creepy depictions of Hansel & Gretel, gingerbread men and wicked witches, this ride is pretty much the reason some pharamist whipped up the first batch of Dramamine in his mortar and pestle.

Whiplash and Motion Sickness city! And only some of the seats have seat belts, which I discovered AFTER the ride started the first time Chooch and I went on.

Of course, we were sitting in the seat beltless seats. I for sure thought Chooch was going to perish, and he was getting so mad that I had my arm around him but oh my god, my Mom Vision was going haywire and I swear I was seeing flashes of 87 different versions of Chooch being expunged from this creepy ass tea cups-on-acid suicide mission.

And then as soon as the ride ended, we pushed and shoved each other toward the exit and ran to Henry, screaming, “OMG THAT WAS THE BEST RIDE EVARRRRR!!”

The second time we went on it was even better because it started STORMING and the lacksadaiscal ride attendant just let us whip around beneath pregnant storm clouds. Since the ride is on a tilted platform, spates of rain water were sluicing off the top of the cars straight onto our backs. It wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

As I stalked toward the exit, frozen in a jumping jack-stance to allow the water to drip from my clothing, the ride attendant gave me a once-over and said with a smirk, “I hope you enjoyed the extended wet ride.”

I think that means he wanted to have sex with me, but I’m not sure.

“Holy shit! We’re still alive!”

The “famous” wall of gum in the Devil’s Den.

Find the Frown!

I think there were only about 20 other people in the park with us that day. The only time we waited in line was for the bumper cars.

Honestly? I can’t wait to go back. With props and models. And the unicorn head mask I just bought.