In some ways, this trip could not have been more different from my first. A forty-degree difference in temperature had a drastic effect on the crowds, the ride performance, and my mood. The coronavirus safety measures were one part minor nuisance and nine parts welcome reassurance, but suffice it to say that they changed the atmosphere around the park. For me personally, knowing my way around the park also emboldened me a little bit, as far as chasing impulses rather than trying to stick to an "itinerary," once my principal missions had been accomplished (more below).
Finally, the park has seen two immense changes in its coaster lineup in the last nine months. Vortex is no longer standing; she will be sorely missed. (For some of you, though not for me, pun fully intended.) What was just a brake run in October is now the world's seventh giga coaster, Orion. I was blown away, even driving down OH-63 a few miles northwest of the park, at just how gigantic a presence Orion holds. It is visible from just about anywhere in the park, yet somehow has a way of sneaking into the backdrop. When it catches one's notice, the ride's massive scope causes a pang of intimidation every time.
Truthfully, this trip was not actually a spontaneous impulse. It is virtually impossible to visit a Cedar Fair park in 2020 on a spontaneous impulse, because all guests must have a date-specific reservation. Guests complete a self-screening for COVID-19 symptoms before entering the park, and are temperature-checked at one of two long tents in front of the main gate. While there is no such thing as a risk-free activity involving multiple thousands of people, Cedar Fair truly seems to have thought their procedures through. I read reports that Kings Island's first weekend had some glitches, but I found an efficient process and a guest culture of compliance inside the park. With the weight of a major chain, a more-proactive state government, and a large staff helping to enforce social-distancing etiquette, I actually felt safer among the crowds than I did on my trip to Indiana Beach one week prior.
I was inordinately pleased with myself for my packing strategies on this trip. The night before, I filled a drawstring bag with some necessities, but then groused about the inevitability of locker rentals and the concern about space-sharing that they would cause. I instead found my biggest pair of cargo shorts, and was able to secure everything "essential" in my pockets:
- Phone (with Kings Island app and Platinum Pass loaded)
- Wallet
- FastLane Plus voucher
- Car Keys
- Spare Mask
- Hand sanitizer
To secure my mask and sunglasses, I threaded an athletic strap through the mask straps, and then around my frames. This worked exceptionally well. The hand sanitizer proved prudent, as despite their abundance, many of the park's sanitizer stations were empty when I walked by. I had sunscreen and a few extra bottles of water in my car, which I could return to as needed.
The golden key to my enjoyment, though, was the FastLane Plus voucher. In a true spontaneous impulse, I had bought one for myself during the Presidents' Day sale, figuring that I would be making at least one solo Kings Island trip during the 2020 season. When parks began closing and postponing their seasons, Cedar Fair stopped the sale of these passes, but decided to honor those already purchased. This meant that I had one of a prized few wristbands in the park on this particular day, granting me walk-on conditions on every coaster at the cost of a few moments' guilt, watching guests cooking in the 90-degree sun. In the future, I hope that I can make at least one park visit per season with FastLane Plus.
Orion (Credit 49, 1/10 Today, 2/51 Overall)
I had an "itinerary" for only the opening hour of my visit. With 48 credits, I intended to ride The Beast for my 50th roller coaster. Of the major coasters in the park, Orion and Flight of Fear were the only ones I had not ridden, and they happen to be next-door neighbors. I was legitimately torn, as I walked toward the Coney Island area, about which ride should be my 49th. When I got to the newly-themed Area 72 in the park's opening minutes, I quickly realized that I would not encounter a shorter line at any point in the day. Based on opening-day congestion, Kings Island made the move of distributing "boarding passes," granting each guest only a single ride on Orion per visit. Boarding passes are time-sensitive as well. These were not yet being passed out when I reached Area 72, so I entered the standard queue and waited only three or four trains. (I merely assumed that FL+ would not apply to Orion in present circumstances, and did not want to ask so early in the day.) My first ride was from the back row, on the right side.
I will be posting a full review of my experience on Orion, but let me just say... wow. Bolliger & Mabillard may not take major risks in their ride designs, but this does not mean that they are unwilling to innovate. Furthermore, every layout they produce is so utterly refined that it is difficult to name a superior manufacturer - Rocky Mountain Construction included. From the eternally long first drop to the goofy pop of ejector airtime into the brake run, every single element on Orion is memorable. This is a good thing, because from its announcement, Orion drew sharp criticism for how few elements it sports. While short by giga standards, Orion's layout delivers an unreal variety of sensations - floater airtime, ejector airtime, strong positive G-forces, lateral G-forces, low-intensity stretches of "pure speed," and even the chance for a pop of sideways airtime for back-row riders. It is probably a character flaw that I have twice made a nine-hour round trip to go to Kings Island alone, and both times, I found a single ride to be worth the drive and the cost of admission. In my personal ride rankings, I think Orion and Millennium Force are going to be 2A and 2B for a long time, with preference toward whichever one I rode more recently.
Still not wanting to impose, or give off the aura of an entitled guest, I left Area 72 - after all, I was on a mission! I stopped by Vortex's old plot of land to reminisce on something that had been in my life for less than a year, and followed the walkway until the Beast's footprints could be spotted on the asphalt. It was not yet 11:00, but I could already feel the sun warming my neck. (Spoiler alert: I did not make a return trip to my car in time to avoid a moderate sunburn.) The mask, though, felt oddly comfortable despite being warm. Others must have felt similarly, because at this point mask usage was near-uniform. Kudos, Kings Island patrons.
The Beast (Credit 50, 4/10 Today, 15/51 Overall)
Still feeling naive about my wristband superpowers (and correctly sensing a station wait), I again joined the standard queue, hoping also to allow some time to hype myself up for my 50th credit. A milestone in an invisible and arbitrary counting stat that matters to literally only me... what a rush! In all sincerity, though, since I have started logging my coaster trips, I have gotten a great amount of sentimental and introspective enjoyment out of thinking about rides, not only for their own sake, but for the piece of social history they share. Walking through The Beast's station felt like taking part in a living, roaring museum.
Part of COVID-19 safety protocol involves ride operators assigning seats on all rides, regardless of queue length. I have no complaint about this, though for wooden roller coasters at Kings Island, I have found that placement has an outsize effect on the ride's roughness. I was placed in the back car, which granted me a middle seat for my first ride. I had no idea what to expect, and even though it was mid-morning on an innocent and sunny Tuesday, I actually felt a little bit nervous. I was able to put myself in the shoes of a first-time rider in 1979, when The Beast was the largest coaster in the world. Leaving the station, I felt a pang of sadness looking out into a bare plot of land, knowing that in 2019, Vortex would have been helping to keep The Beast secluded. This was short-lived, though, as from the climb up the first lift hill, the view is solely of trees and sky. I did, however, crane my neck to watch Orion crest its magnificent first hill, thinking wistfully again about how far the industry has come in fifty years, and how much of that progress was on display at Kings Island. The eerie safety narration and background music, though not crystal-clear, were truly effective.
From the first drop - awkward, but somehow still intense - I could tell that I would be getting a one-of-a-kind experience. With an audible slam into the valley, my car jostled my helpless body across the remainder of the course. While roughness as a ride-killer will be discussed later in this report, I found The Beast actually to toe the perfect line - undeniably rough, but without any sudden or extreme jolts, so that the ride retained an out-of-control fun fully in character for a homegrown coaster named The Beast. I have been on one or two coasters before billed as "terrain coasters," but never before have I seen the terrain used as such a defining feature for a ride. I did not experience the full effect in broad daylight, but because Kings Island is closing at 7 PM this summer, I knew that this would not be a possibility. Rushing through the woods, I knew that a night ride was going on my "bucket list."
I maintain that it was not sudden or extreme, but the transition into the epic double helix did give me an intense jolt. Ride defensively off of the second lift hill. At any rate, The Beast stands as a true icon, one that may be eclipsed on its objective merits by modern attractions, but one that is truly unique and offers thrills no other ride can match.
Mystic Timbers (Credit 44, 3/10 Today, 8/51 Overall)
To properly frame my experience on The Beast, I decided to walk around the corner to another wooden coaster that I already knew and loved, Mystic Timbers. It was here that I finally decided to use my wristband. I saved a whopping five minutes by turning a near-station wait into a walk-on! Irony aside, I felt unstoppable on this trip with my wristband, and now finally understand why some people are willing to pay peak prices for them.
Mystic Timbers was running aggressively in the summer heat. I "felt" the track more than I recalled in my first impressions with the ride in October, but the ride was distinctly smooth - especially compared to The Beast. The greatest strength of Mystic Timbers lies not in any one element, but in the transitions, which actually glue the entire out-and-back layout together like one continuous element. From row 10, I never really felt the airtime subside, so rather than being yanked from my seat, I felt more like I was hovering an inch or two above it for the entire course. The shed remains silly, underwhelming, and imperfectly synced, but it cannot possibly detract from such an excellent ride.
Diamondback (Credit 43, 2/10 Today, 12/51 Overall)
After the first of many drink breaks (thank you, Platinum Pass soft drink add-on!), I slithered through Diamondback's queue. If I had to estimate, Diamondback would have been running a 25-30 minute wait at this point, so this was the first of many rides I took where the wristband was a legitimate help. My first impression of Diamondback last fall was somewhat underwhelming. Perhaps it just performs better in warm air, but I found it almost too graceful, and lacking in any sort of "bite" or unpredictability. With unexpected jackhammering from the middle rows, I left thinking that it was a solid but overrated coaster. In the sweltering July sunlight, Diamondback rode like a dream. It climbed in my overall rankings, and while I still look at Mystic Timbers holistically as a better ride, on today's trip I enjoyed Diamondback more. Diamondback is the Floater King, now joined at his throne by Orion, the Ejector Prince. Perhaps having an elite giga coaster in sight helped me to demand less of Diamondback and appreciate its many merits more. It is a long ride filled with floater airtime, but it also carries a few small doses of positive G-forces. In one of my later-afternoon rides, when I was a bit dehydrated, I grayed out on two separate elements. Really, my only remaining gripe is that the first drop lacks intensity - made all the more apparent now by Orion, which has surely one of the best first drops on Planet Earth.
The Racer (Credit 39, 10/10 Today, 49/51 Overall)
When I posted my first trip report on Reddit, it was suggested that I rode The Racer in sub-optimal conditions, and also was not careful about my seat choice. (Again, for Kings Island woodies, this matters.) I pledged then that I would give The Racer a second chance in the summer, on a full train. The latter was not possible, but the former was, so I decided to be a good sport and honor my imaginary word by boarding The Racer today. Little needs to be said - I rode the Red side, and it was still awful. Even before the lift hill, every last groove, knot, and sign of age is channeled directly from the track into riders' bodies via the trains. From the moment the first drop levels off to the final brake run, the jackhammering never stops. Unlike on The Beast, where the gradual slopes and curves make the jostling predictable, The Racer has elements designed for airtime. This is masked by the jostling, but it also means that riders will receive an extra jolt on every valley. As a teenager, I hurt my back on Magnum XL-200 because I was not ready for the ejector air, and I landed in my seat while my back was awkwardly arched. Even riding defensively for this, I spent my entire ride worried about this same thing happening. Kings Island maintenance recently re-tracked both sides' turnarounds, as well as the subsequent drops. I honestly could not feel the difference. Kings Island prides itself on being a haven for wooden coasters, so rather than make the predictable call for an RMC Iron Horse conversion, I will instead desperately beg for a GCI re-tracking of The Racer. Until then, I probably will not ride it again.
Flight of Fear (Credit 51, 7/10 Today, 42/51 Overall)
Like a wounded duck, I staggered off of The Racer back over to Area 72, which is framed by The Racer's first drop. The entryway into Area 72 is actually beautiful, and the stark white paint on The Racer immediately contributes to the retro-futurist, Space Age aesthetic the park went for. Right now, the transition is not quite seamless because they have the station for Orion boarding passes parked immediately inside, so there will usually be a small crowd to dodge under The Racer. That structure, by the way, provides shade in an otherwise shade-starved area, so there were also folks camped out along the curbs. Because the paths are so wide, it was still not difficult to maintain proper social distancing.
I made my way into the FL+ entrance for Flight of Fear, but seeing the interesting visuals in the queue and appreciating the cool air, I briefly considered entering the standard line. I only had to wait for one train before being granted a ride from the middle. The ride operator used a well-worn trick on our dispatch, faking a countdown (which she had not done on the previous train) and launching us on "2." Even though I saw it coming, the launch still took my masked breath away. Because I had configured my mask and sunglasses together, I was even more in-the-dark than my fellow passengers.
Once I regained my bearings, I noticed that the lap-bar restraints had some consequences. Flight of Fear's spaghetti bowl track offers good fun and moments of high intensity, but I found that there were more changes in lateral forces than the restraints were able to accommodate. I swung side-to-side on many turns like an inflatable tube man, and felt some jolts on my hips because they had room to shift around. I could not imagine enduring Flight of Fear in its old configuration with over-the-shoulder restraints. The final corkscrew was taken at high speed, and it was devilishly intense. However, the series of turns and dips that preceded it, even from before the mid-course brake run, were meandering and uninspired. I considered this ride to be a mixed bag, one that I would ride in the future to escape the heat, or if it had a very short line.
After Flight of Fear, I stayed in Area 72 to take my second lap on Orion. This time, I was again put in the back row, but on the left side. This lap was as mind-blowing as the first, but I think that the sensation of sideways airtime on the wave turn is stronger from the right side.
Banshee (Credit 41, 8/10 Today, 14/51 Overall)
I decided to move toward the front of the park to grab some laps on the rides I had missed in the morning. Up first was Banshee. This was my first direct encounter with Cedar Fair's sanitation practices, which varied from ride to ride. The listed standard is that every 30 minutes, ride crews will run a sanitation cycle on the rides. For the B&M Hyper Coasters, this appeared to be a quick spray and wipe-down, but for Banshee, which has far more contact points on its restraint system, the crew was dispatching empty trains after wiping them down. As with every other measure, I found this far more reassuring than inconvenient. It did not stop me from sanitizing my hands and arms after the ride, but it seemed that the park's diligence influenced guest behavior. I heard guests idly cracking jokes among themselves, all while maintaining six feet of distance between parties. On a typical summer day, I would have expected some grumbling.
My only lap on Banshee today was from the third row on the far right side. As with every other ride, I observed Orion on my way up, but also appreciated Banshee for its own massive size. The first drop is steep for an inverted coaster, and on today's ride was by far the most satisfying element. Frankly, Banshee was not doing well today. I got some insight from Reddit that the heat, in addition to making it run faster, will also make it feel slightly rougher. I also think that the emptier trains contributed substantially, because I noticed that even Orion hadn't been flawlessly smooth. For the first time ever, I noticed the infamous "B&M rattle," and it was constant from the bottom of the first drop to the brake run. Moreover, at the bottom of the first drop, my restraint latched down another click. It is one thing to have the vest component tighten, which is par for the course, but with the whole mechanism constricting my pelvis, I was even more sensitive to the roughness than I otherwise might have been (hopefully I don't have to elaborate). It is a shame, too, because this lap was far more forceful than the ones I took last October. I grayed out fully on the first vertical loop and the pretzel knot. I consider this lap to be a fluke on an excellent coaster, which is why Banshee ranks poorly today but remains in my Top 15. In 2021, I hope to get a front-row ride on a full train in mild weather.
The Bat (Credit 37, 6/10 Today, 26/51 Overall)
I took a leisurely stroll over to The Bat, whose queue constitutes another leisurely stroll. The amount of real estate devoted to the queue line is almost comical, but it allows for a great moment of path interaction about halfway through the layout. I have a soft spot for the Arrow suspended model, which delivers a unique brand of thrill. The lift hill on The Bat crawls along, but then it blazes through its course. One underrated aspect of these rides is that they often create impressive near-misses with the large support columns. With everything in the park running "hot," the swinging was sustained on The Bat, and I noticed this on two turns in particular. I can't put my finger on it, but I actually enjoyed my October ride a little more. Still, I would definitely make time for The Bat on any future visit.
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| (Picture from October 2019.) |
Invertigo (Credit 36, 5/10 Today, 34/51 Overall)
I was torn about whether to get on Invertigo, because the claustrophobic restraints seemed to offer many potential contact vectors, and the single-train shuttle seemed like it would lend itself to long, cramped lines. To my pleasant surprise, however, the ride was a station wait. The only seats available were those facing up the initial lift hill, meaning that we would be taking the course backwards first, with a forwards-facing return trip. I had done the opposite on my first trip, so this worked out well. Invertigo was running phenomenally well today, but I forgot just how intense of a ride it is. While many of Kings Island's other rides feature sweeping, drawn-out elements, Invertigo barrels through its trio of inversions. As enjoyable as my lap was, I wanted a drink break, so I did not re-ride Invertigo.
I chose to get both my drink, and a hand-wash break, near The Racer. By far that ride's best element is that its neighboring bathrooms have motion-sensor faucets and dryers, so that once I had soap on my hands, I could keep them clean. Since I was in the area, I took a third lap on Orion. This time, I was put in the front row, in one of the middle seats. The unobstructed view of the drop was incredible, and the drop itself maintained its sick intensity, but it should come as no surprise that the more sensational experience is from the back. After Orion, I got a re-ride on The Beast (which was much rougher, and its trims hit hard), and two on Diamondback.
Adventure Express (Credit 38, 9/10 Today, 40/51 Overall)
The last ride of the day for me was on Adventure Express, a fun Arrow mine train that boasts some surprising intensity. Especially in the summer heat, it hit all of the transitions with vigor and force, lending a feeling of recklessness that I quite enjoyed. As good as the ride was, this was my first glimmer that guest behavior was starting to fade as the day went on. There was a group of unsupervised children in the main queue, predictably climbing on handrails, clustering, rushing to the air gates before operators assigned them rows, and otherwise doing things that eager children love to do. I do not blame them in the slightest; on the contrary, I implore any adults bringing their children to stay with them at all times, up to the point of boarding rides. While surprising preliminary data has suggested that children, inexplicably, may be less-active vectors for SARS-CoV-2 than other age groups, it is still best to maintain an environment with as close to 100% compliance as possible.
By this point, it was late in the afternoon. An impending storm was rolling in, prompting the closure of most major coasters. I was also starting to see signs of "mask fatigue" among park-goers. I would estimate that mask usage was still well over 80%, compared to around 3% on my visit to Indiana Beach, but I wanted to err on the cautious side, and I did not imagine that mask use would improve in the park's closing hours. Though I craved one last lap on Orion, the line was closed, and I opted instead to return to my car to beat the storm. Similarly to my Indiana Beach trip, I touched almost nothing and showered the minute I got home. While I am thrilled that Cedar Fair was running a tight ship and manufacturing fun-filled days for the greatly-reduced masses, it should be noted that while I was writing this report, news broke of a Kings Island employee testing positive for SARS-CoV-2. To me, this just highlights Cedar Fair's diligence in monitoring its parks, but it was a sobering reminder that viruses show no bias, and even our "happy places" demand our diligence.
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