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It would be remiss of me not to mention what, I think, is Blackpool's best ride period . . . Valhalla To call this a "dark ride" or a "flume ride" is to invite the wrath of Thor and Odin! This is an adventure where you Norse Gods have their sport by drenching you, freezing you, then flame broiling you! Yes, even when some of the effects aren't working, Vahalla is awesome. No pictures of the inside (cameras not allowed--besides, mine probably wouldn't have survived the trip). Epcot's Maelstrom is It's a Small World next to Valhalla. Oh Mighty Odin! Grant this unworthy one the blessing of beer! So, you think you are worthy to ride Valhalla? We shall see . . .

^^We rode one at Joyland in Great Yarmouth. Kinda sucked, actually.

Avast! Heave to and prepare to pound it, lads! "It's me birt'day," sez you. "Back in the hold with ye tomorrow," sez I! And ye best not pound me cutlass, lad!

Yeah--those bears are so damn cute, until you get between them and a pic-a-nic basket!

As I recall, there was a dude with a shop vac at Valhalla that day, and the big log flume was running.

I thought that Toad Hole was the best ride ever that featured a talking rubber mask on a stick. Stick yer animatronics up yer Toad Hole, Disney!

^I dunno. There was that chicken burger at Drayton . . .

Hey, it's good to see that I haven't lost my talent for looking completely crazed when smiling for photos. "Hey, kids! Come and ride the spinning coaster with the nice man!" Very nice TR, Eric. Santa Cruz used to have a funhouse with one of those wheels and a varnished-wood slide. I really miss that place.

I agree that everyone should ride The Ultimate at least once; truly, it is the Jeckyll and Hyde of coasters. I actually braved it twice; that is, after I got some feeling back in my right hand after bashing my elbow on my first ride. Note--the back of the train is more enjoyable than the front.

^You may have more use for your Spanish in Van Nuys, Derek. Hell, it could come in handy in Williamsburg nowadays. I'm seriously considering the Midwest trip--esp. for Cedar Point.

Hmm--I don't recall seeing Mr. Cloggs; of course, that doesn't mean that he wasn't there.

Ah, yes--I remember "What the hell is this?" No vertical slide? Heck, I survived the vertical slide (only to nearly crash and burn on the wooden slide at Flamingoland). You so have to try the vertical slide next time, Nicole.

Oh, we won't--but Ludwig has reserved a special place for you, I'm sure! Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!

^Jeff is going to get a BGE season pass? Well, I bought a PKD pass last year, so anything is possible.

And now (cue Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor") we enter the realm of random, exquisite horror! Yes, if you do doubt your courage, read no further! You have only yourself to blame if you go mad! You have been warned! Be sure to cringe and whimper within the confines of the ride vehicle as it bursts through the first bang door of Blackpool's classic . . . Ghost Train! Yes, this is the magilla of Blackpool's old-school dark rides--the very first "ghost train," they claim. Bang doors! Eyeballs on springs! Bike-riding skeletons! A coasterish drop mid-ride! Car horns blasting in your ear! This old sucker's got it all, baby! Here's just a sample of what's in store if you dare to queue up for this bad boy. Ok, you big, fat buffet boys! Come to papa! No dessert for me--I'm watching my girlish figure. Wow! Get a load of those huge, succulent, quivering lily-white mounds of blancmange! This way to the dessert table! If you're not careful, you'll become part of my personal buffet! My torso looked so good, I ate it myself! In hindsight, not such a great idea. Help me! The ACE guys thought I was part of the buffet! This way to the buffet, gents! Me, too, want buffet--with extra waffles and bacon! Me big ACE mucky-muck! Me want buffet! Peter is relieved to have survived the terrifying ordeal of the Ghost Train. And it's historically significant to boot. I was looking forward to this sucker almost as much as Steeplechase!

^Well, we ain't done yet, varmint. Yessir, Bill, ya called it. Keep yer grubstake inside the mine car at all times, cuz we're a' gonna take a gander at some weird scenes inside the . . . Gold Mine Here's Blackpool's version of the Calico Mine Ride at Knott's, with animatronics that are every bit as moth-eaten--and then some. Although not as "epic" as its California counterpart, Blackpool's Gold Mine is a kick, with its various levels and rather speedy little mine cars (they act almost like powered coaster cars when they fall down drops). It even interacts with the same restaurant as the River Caves. Hey! You mean that gal's been sittin' there nigh on to 30 years and I ain't never noticed her? Consarn your hide, ya durn dude! When a miner feels powerful lonesome, that can lead to some mighty strange hankerins and goings on. Save a dance fer me boys! Yee haw! Leastways when a miner gets kinda lonely, he can pass the time by playin' with his drill. Findin' gold ain't the only thing that makes a miner shout "eureka!" Like I said, it's powerful hard, lonely work in this here mine. At least we got this nice rest-y-rant. Closed today, dadburn it! No food or wimmens here! Shore was nice o' them TPR folks to lend us this here donkey to tote the load fer a spell. He was mighty good eatin' after he keeled over, too. Save the rump fer me, boys! Yee haw! Yessir, it's a tough, lonely life a' prospectin', what with shoveling dirt and bustin' rocks and blowin' stuff up and hammerin' all the live-long day. Howdy, folks! Y'all can call me Ol' Incontinent Ike, and it'll tickle me jest to death to show you around Blackpool's Gold Mine. Best stay upwind, thougb. Yee haw!

I got one word for ya: Balder! Why can't all wooden coasters be like this?

^Actually, I posted this around 9:00 am Willy's Burg, Va., time--after I had breakfast and a cup of coffee.

BGE shuts down all the coasters and other outdoor rides during t-storms (I think you can still ride DarKastle, though). A few years ago, a storm blew in so quickly from off the James River that the park didn't get the chance to shut down and clear people off all the rides. A train full of people had just departed the station of the Loch Ness Monster when lightning struck a tree, which came down and ripped a big gash in the side of the train as it headed toward the lifthill (fortunately, no one was seriously hurt).

I'm gald that folks are enjoying my little tour of Blackpool's dark rides. No smoking of any substance while the ride is in motion, please. Besides, you'll already feel pretty stoned when you enter the black-lit, psychedelic world of . . . Alice in Wonderland I've no idea which came first--the ride at Disneyland or the ride at Blackpool. Both have outdoor segments (the best is at Disneyland). Both are inspired by the original illustrations that accompanied Lewis Carroll's novel (Disney's, of course, look more like their movie versions of the characters, Blackpool's more like the book). Both are rather whacked out. But only Blackpool's uses "I've Got a Golden Ticket" from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory as background music (the hell?). So, take a big drag on your hookah, and check out a few scenes from Blackpool's take on Alice. Yep. I've definitely breathed in a few too many fumes from the Mad Hatter's "tea" party. Bunnies, indeed! Uh oh! I'm starting to hallucinate extinct birds! Time to mellow out . . . Humpty Dumpty takes the "big fall" as "all the king's horses and all the king's men" try to bust him for possession. Looks like the Walrus and the Carpenter have a serious case of the munchies. Yeah, dawg! Be a pal and save some for your friendly neighborhood Chessire Cat, eh? Hey, dawg, don't bogart that joint! Looks like the White Rabbit is going to be late to meet his man and score some of the good stuff for the Queen's party.

Personally, I blame the little blue bastards. There must be some bitterness from when they were booted off the mountain. This is a case of smurfitage, I think. Or perhaps of evil spirits from the old Haunted River.

^I would've missed it, too, but I merely followed a bunch of TPRers from the Zipper Dipper. MM is an experience best shared with a group (after a pint or two), I think.

Thanks for the link, Ted. I've heard of this group, but have yet to visit their site. Another good one is http://www.laffinthedark.com. But onward and, well, downward. Please keep your hands and arms inside the boat at all times as we plumb the depths of Blackpool's . . . River Caves Old-style dark rides tend to be exercises in randomness. Look! The devil just popped up in that window! Eek! That mummy's gonna fall on us! Eww! The shapely naked chick is actually a decayed corpse! Randomness is part of their charm, actually. Blackpool's River Caves, however, seems to take randomness to a new extreme (not necessarily a bad thing). It's a "Tunnel of Love" type boat ride past scenes of exotic places, with a bit of narration here and there (most of which probably doesn't work anymore, I gather). Heck, you even get a peek at one of Blackpool's restaurants during your trip (shades of the Blue Bayou--or is the Blue Bayou the shades of the River Caves?). So here we go around the world in 80 ways, or something. (Some of these pics are a bit blurry--I think the mist effects in the Caves fogged up my lens a bit.) "I say, Friday, what the hell was that all about?" Aghh! Snake! Where's Lara Croft when you need her? And now the Wayback Machine sends us to the ancient city of Ankhor Wat. I wonder if Angelina Jolie is in town? Randomness kicks in again: "So shall it be written, so shall it be done" in the times of ancient Egypt. And so we do. Here's Mad King Ludwig in the sumputous grotto under one of his Bavarian castles (the restaurant overlooks this cool-looking set). Looks like his Highness has been on a serious bender (and has a sick thing for dolphins). "Hey, stupid mammals in the boat! This is my period--you best get back to the future!" But then we go back to the time of cavemen--the hell? Welcome aboard the River Caves! First, we pay a call on an ancient Chinese emperor as he grants an audience to Boy George.

I missed the "Viagra" gag at Chessington. The Coney Beach Ghost Train was, indeed, unnerving, but at least they provided plenty of fire-exit signs (perhaps to cover holes in the walls).

When it comes to the TPR UK Trip, I can only echo what everybody else has been saying--freakin' fantastic! What a time! Mucho thanks to Robb and Elissa for putting this all together and putting up with all of us. One thing I especially appreciated was the excellent mix of coasters and dark rides. I am a serious dark-ride fan. From the smelly, cheesy carny rides with their bang doors and skeletons on springs to the high-tech animatronics and 3D digital images of Disney and Universal, I love 'em all nearly as much as the coasters. So, instead of a general trip report, I thought I'd focus on Blackpool's cool collection of old-school dark rides (with pics aplenty). Please remain seated and pull down your safety bar. We're off to our first stop . . . Magic Mountain Well, this is more like Blackpool's version of It's a Small World than of a steel-entwined mountain in Valencia. It even has an incessant, grating theme song: "Welcome to our world!/Welcome to our world!/Welcome to our World of Toys!" Fortunately, the ride vehicle, a train of four cars, makes enough noise to effectively drown the song out. This seems appropriate, as this ride, unbeknownst to many who ride it, is a hard-hitting expose of the darker aspects of the "World of Toys." Yes, this is a ride that pulls no punches, as the following pictures will show! Be warned--this is not for the faint of heart! Stay tuned for more dark-ride goofiness. Other Toys try to drown their frustrations in cheap rotgut. Yes, it's not all fun and games in the World of Toys. Not that the upper Toy classes care: "Prepare the merwench for the pleasure of Sultan Ali Ben Gropeangrab, ruler of the World of Toys!" Such as this unfortunate woman. She doesn't even attempt to hide her shame from us. (Yes, we have a side-boob shot on this ride.) We delve deeper into Toy decadence. Here we see a typical opium den, where Toys of all social classes slowly destroy their psyches by smoking and snorting glitter and tinsel. Many take desperate measues to support their habits. Many lower-caste Toys are forced to toil for long hours at low pay in the fluff-and-velcro mines of the World of Toys. Unionization is but a distant dream to these tortured souls. Behold the Love that Dare Not Speak Its Name: Interspecies Toy Lust! Here we see a strange pagan rite from the early Mezowhatzit Era of Toy Evolution--the sacrifice to Eyore, the Great Donkey God. The fluff of many a stuffed animal was spilled in such a manner. "B-o-o-o-ard!" Off we go, into the "Heart of Darkness." "Now arriving, the Sad-and-Pathetic Express for Magic Mountain's World of Toys! Last call!" Hmm--looks like other crazed coaster dorks have commandeered this train. We'll have to wait. Welcome to Not Six Flags Magic Mountain! The cheerful entrance belies the darkness within!