Can you tell that I am desperado to pack in as much as possible before Chooch leaves for college? I really hate how the vibe of the summer shifted so harshly and how I spent so much of it being emotionally catatonic. I am trying, you guys.

Last weekend, we did a small day trip to Huntingdon, WV to collect the whopping 3 coaster creds at Camden Park. We had tossed around the idea of going here for the past several years but honestly, it is so out of the way and (sorry locals) not really worth the trip unless you’re on the way somewhere better. But in this case, we were looking for something that we could knock out in less than a day, and Camden Park finally fit the bill.

We knew that this park was going to be kind of a dump (SORRY AGAIN LOCALS) but I honestly didn’t care and was stoked to see the infamous clown signage in person finally. You know I love me some clown shit. This didn’t disappoint!

We were there on a hot ass Saturday in August. Probably every other amusement park in America was poppin’ off but Camden Park was…meandering.

My IMMEDIATE first impression was that it was like Conneaut Park in PA (RIP) but make it a bit livelier (and you know, open). There really wasn’t much to write home about aesthetically or anything, but we knew this going in. Somehow the vibes were actually worse than I expected though. Not to say we had a terrible time, but it felt strange being there. We are not what you would consider cosmopolitan or uppity people by any stretch of the imagination, and I am not trying to be stereotypin’ the peeps here, but let’s just say we definitely stood out as interloping city folk.

Henry must have been feeling at home though because he was nicer than I have EVER witnessed him being to staff and ride ops. It was NUTS. “YOU HAVE A NICE DAY!” he kept shouting at everyone and it was very disconcerting, like we had been sent to a different dimension and Henry was over-acting some weird version of himself without fear of consequence. I can’t explain it but it was on par with how jarring it was to hear him say, “YOU AS WELL” in response (OK I typed “respondence” at first, I need to be put on the Billy Madison track) to cashiers, etc. telling him to have a good day.

I was really excited to ride this and expected to leave with spine damage, but holy shit it was good! I mean, not worth going out of your way for unless you’re a thoosie or someone who keeps a spreadsheet of coaster credits, and it is janky AF to be honest. But there was an intense of pop of airtime after the first drop that was completely unexpected, and I felt like I was going to be catapulted out of my seat. It made me scream and laugh my face off. Those are elements of a good and memorable coaster experience, if you ask me.

The ride ops were exactly what you’d expect from a park of this ilk – basically the maintenance crew, honestly. Which isn’t a bad thing but holy shit, the grizzliness was in full effect here. Basically, throw down some carnival rides but make it permanent and keep the carnies on staff. They released the lap bars with no announcement (at least, none that I heard!) so the bar slammed down HARD on my wrists. I was being v. vocal about the pain I was in but Chooch accused me of exaggerating. I was not! That lap bar was heavy!

Don’t worry, I didn’t sue or anything. BUT 10-YEAR-OLD ERIN PROBABLY WOULD HAVE TRIED TO.

Camden Park also has a dark ride with a very original name. HAUNTED HOUSE. You don’t say.

Haunted House selfie. LOL my unruly gray hairs.

This guy was like if Jonny Craig had joined the carnival junket instead of pursuing music.

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Anyway, I liked it just fine but it also seemed very short? I feel like it was definitely shorter than, say, The Whacky Shack at Waldameer and maybe even the Devil’s Den from the aforementioned Conneaut.

I was so pissed that this FAFSA billboard was haunting us while we were trying to enjoy a leisurely jaunt on the rickety carousel. (Henry had some weird rapport going on with the elderly operator, btw. He was yukking it up with so many blue collareds on this day, you guys. Maybe Henry will move to Huntingdon when he retires. Or maybe he can just move there now and join the Camden maintenance crew?!

I just want to remember that we got along the whole time we were here – which, in all fairness, was only about 2 hours, lol. But if you knew my state of mind not even just over these last few months but really for almost the whole last year, you would know that getting through an afternoon together as a family without me flipping my already unhinged lid…well, it’s an accomplishment to remember.

Wow, two carouselfie versions to choose from for the wall. I made Henry move up to a different horse and take a new shot because I wanted my mint horse to be in it. God, I make such a simple, benign tradition into such a miserable process sometimes haha. (Chooch’s voice is echoing into the void: “you mean ‘always.'”)

This is that Hipstamatic filter that essentially puts age spots on skin. I need to stop using this on pictures of people lol. Anyway, this was in line for the Whip, which was also being operated by an effervescent elder.

EW WHY IS MY TOOTH CAUGHT ON MY LIP. Jesus Christ, maybe I’m the one who should retire to Huntingdon.

This amount of pictures of the Whip is uncalled for, really.

I loved this old man operator so much that I had to walk back around and get him in a picture. This place was something else.

Get a load of this sketchy-ass sky ride. That’s a no for me, Paula.

The Little Dipper was actually pretty fun for a baby coaster! The ride attendant didn’t even check our restraints LOL.

We were the first people in line and I was all set to get the last row but one of the kids behind us asked, “Are you going to take the backseat?” and I said, “Maybe, why? Do you want it?” AND WHAT THE HELL CAME OVER ME, I ACTUALLY GAVE THESE KIDS THE BACK SEAT. We took the front row so it wasn’t all that bad. I’m just really scared that I did something nice for a child.

I have looked like hell all year. My hair doesn’t even grow anymore. Anyway, this was on the Tilt a Whirl.

Conversely, I didn’t want the front row on this one but there was a group of tween girls behind us and I didn’t like how they were acting – I can picture them being bullies in the halls of some shitty West Virginia middle school and that didn’t sit well with me so when I heard them going on and on about wanting the front row, I abandoned my dreams of being a back row bitch and ran to claim the front row out from under their snobby little noses.

Then before we left, I bought some swag in the gift shop which actually offered way better merch than a park of this caliber had ANY right to. I got a shirt, a magnet, a coffee cup, and a shot glass with a clown inside of it. I also could have bought a Camden Park photo album to hold all of our precious photographical memories from the day but apathy took over and I put it back on the shelf.

And yeah, that concludes our day trip to Camden Park, where Henry turned into a local yokel and we made it out without tetanus or a fentanyl addiction. Bleak, sorry.

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