When I was growing up, our family referred to Knott's as that creepy "other" park. After our 300-mile trip to southern California from the "bountiful valley," we usually went to Knott's for fried chicken and a bit o' fun (that is, the Mine Train, Log Ride, and the late, lamented Wacky Soapbox Racers). We were ready to head back to the hotel in about two or three hours.
I guess the "creepy" part is that we were always there after dark.