Six Flags or Bust...(errr...maybe bust...)

Well, I don't think I've ever had an experience that will compare to this - let alone a summer where it rained so gosh darn much. The other night my Dad called and said "are you under water yet?" I laughed and said of course not. He said that all he saw on the news was headlines saying that Texas was rained out and under water and flooded, etc. I said "yes Dad, that's true - but we're in a nitch and it's not flooded here". Ohhhh, he said. Ok, well I'm just making sure you're ok.

And we are!

Meanwhile, we're sooooo ok that last Tuesday, we decided to use our season passes and head to Six Fl*gs with our friends E and L. We loaded up and it rained the whole way there. We thought, "big deal - this will keep the summer crowds at bay and it will burn off by the time we get in and get settled giving us the whole day to enjoy without the heat and all the people!" To our utter delight, when we got there, the parking lot was a veritable cavern of empty spots and the few people that were there, were dodging through puddles and ducking under hoodies to make it to the front gate. This tickled our greedy little hearts. We made our way in immediately (with no wait) and put on our well-thought-out parkas. Wait though - quick stop at the front gate for a charming picture in our "gear".

We laughed all the way to the Spong* B*B ride and out we came and behold! - SUNLIGHT! Hahahaha, we thought - here we are and no one has come today and we have the park to ourselves and shall stand in line for NO MAN! We practically ran to the thrill rides and roller-coasters - sailed on and off and laughed our merry little laughs. We stopped for lunch and a slight drizzle began. EVEN BETTER! - we reasoned. This will keep the afternoon crowds from coming too! Voila! We ate happily and sucked down our super size drinks in the "refillable" cups you purchase for some ungodly amount of money. The sweetest victory of theme-parking is finding the one day a year when no one comes, and no one was coming!

We made our way to the next ride and as we stood in a small and painless line, the loudspeaker cut through our delierium and someone said "we're gonna have to ask that you exit the ride and take cover - we're being told that a lightening and thunder storm is heading this way". Well, with a little grumbling and peaking up at an overcast sky (but not a drop heading down) we stepped out of line and wandered to a Cold Stone Cream*ry for cover (and ice-cream. What?) When 20 minutes had passed and nary a drop of water had fallen, we started laughing. What fortune! What good luck this day and our ponchos had brought! Then a small sprinkle appeared and still, we reveled in our luck.

We made our way to the log ride and couldn't resist "hamming" it up for our photo-op. However, when the time came to beautify the picture and give it a "false" blue sky background, we opted for the true background, which as you can see is foreboding at best.


It's too bad we didn't look a little longer at that picture and think on what was behind us in that picture for two seconds. That's the actual storm - heading in...towards us...right at us. IDIOTS!

After the Log Ride, I remember heading to a couple rides that we got on and off way too quickly. We timed one and it was literally a 30 second ride. Ridiculous. So AB busted out the flirty arsenal and we ended up getting a couple rides extended and a couple that we just stayed on for the next round.

I was (forced) coerced into riding a wooden coaster (see "TITAN") after having sworn off the things when I darn near lost both breasts to reckless abandon on another wooden coaster a few years back. If you haven't noticed, these wooden coasters issue what I refer to as "shaken adult syndrome" and stimulate what I label as "near death muscle atrophy". Every bone in my body was wracked with pain. Every muscle tense, tight, and throbbing. Every rib bruised. Every nerve ending - dead. My boobs were so sore I could hardly stand to have them attached to my body afterward. I had a splitting headache, and every fiber of my being cried out the entire 3 minutes of the ride that I was going to die and that it sucked to go out this way. Even the picture they take of you on these coasters as you head down some death spiral was very telling. There was my husband smiling like a crazed maniac - and then there was me, his wife - eyes shut tightly. Hands pushed in front of my body to try and stop the continual beating my bosom was taking and thus my chin and eyes also. (Have I mentioned I'm top heavy?) My head is turned downward and I think I spotted drool on my chin. That would have been from the momentary full-mind shut-down going on as my brain matter sloshed from one side of my head to the other. I recall losing feeling in my legs, and also that I could no longer remember my name or the alphabet. I also recall a seething anger at hearing AB squeal in delight each time we took a sharp corner or made yet another death defying plunge. All the while I was losing urine and excreting the "death" scent of riggamortus.

As we exited the ride I remember feeling such anger that I dared not to look at the offender who had "convinced" me that it was "fine!" even though I did not want to go on this coaster to begin with. Not only did I say "never again" as the green color of my skin pitched, but I think I also mumbled something about strapping him to the front of the car on the way home. I'm not bitter though.

After that - it was a blur. The heavens literally opened up and the largest torrential downpour I have ever seen was upon us. The thunder bellowed and our little ponchos could only do so much to keep us dry. Water jumped up from the two inches of water that had quickly collected on the ground, and as it did, it soaked us all from the ground up. Having worn thongs for comfort, my feet were immersed to the ankle as we sloshed our way from one side of the park to the other looking not only for shelter, but perhaps for a show that we could just sit in and wait for the storm to pass. After learning that all shows had been canceled, standing in the downpour for over an hour, getting soaked to the bone, and having completely lost sight of my legs from the ankle down, we conceded. The white flag was raised and our surrender was all that was left to do. We made our way slowly to the front of the park and had to stop and take shelter from the raging sheets of water that came down and literally flooded the ground floor of the park. While trying to walk uphill in one section, water literally showered down the path, making it rediculous to try and go uphill. Water slapped at you from above and below and now my legs literally disappeared under the onslaught of water. When we finally reached the gate and made our tentative trek across the parking lot (empty, I might add) we did hear that the park was closing. Hmph! You think?

All was not lost though. We had lasted well until the evening (6pm) and had time to salvage a nice dinner before heading home to rest. All in all, we all agreed it was the most fun we'd had at a park in a long time, and that it was certainly entertaining and interesting. If not, wet and crazy.

Certainly not an adventure we'll forget. Especially in the dead of summer in Texas.

What is up with Mother Nature?