We did not only ride roller coasters and dark rides at Indiana Beach. It was what dominated our day, yes. But we got on several other rides. The Himalaya, for example, which was not only fast and had a backwards cycle, and ran a good long while, but which also played music we've never heard on this sort of ride before. I believe they were playing The Beatles' ``Ticket to Ride'', which I guess counts as being on theme for being a thing you can ride, but which still seems weird in context. I think the song before that was Michael Jackson's ``Billie Jean''.
Another ride we went on? Rocky's Rapids, and the fact we rode a log flume lets you know how very hot and sunny it was. For a change I rode in front, and in one of those quirks of fate neither of us got very wet from the splashdown. The ride shares part of its queue with the Hoosier Hurricane, and we could see from there how the roller coaster was closed, complete with police tape across the stairs leading up to the station. This might just be the easiest way to close off the ride to people who might wander in by accident. We never did work out why Hoosier Hurricane was closed, but it doesn't seem to be a long-term thing. I don't see anyone talking about it on Birdsite, which seems weird.
I've alluded a copule times to our visiting the historic center and this is something we spent a good deal of time doing. They had a bunch of park posters including, we'd learn, a set of a concert publicity posters that were actually vintage. Like, just found in the hotel, stored on a closet shelf. They were being sold at like twenty bucks and that is tempting, even if the signs weren't of any particular, specific interest. If I weren't feeling so pinched I might have got one. Or one of the t-shirts; they'd made some up with a roster of some of the acts who'd played at the amusement park in years gone by. They had a TV showing video of park history and also a poster saying where you could find this on YouTube. Also fine miscellaneous bits of park history, ride tickets and Fascination signs and a copule midway games and such. A wooden sled, from a long-lived water slide that hardly seems like it could have been safe. (A father and two kids on a tiny wooden sled gliding down the water slide into a pool? And nobody falls off? But it happened!) We had such a good time there, just listening to two people talking about the park's history and how much things have looked up since the new guy bought the place. Also if we hadn't stepped out we probably still would be there as it's not clear they ever figure they've shared enough. (There was a sign, and photo, about a publicity stunt from 1951 where a guy lived under water --- in this little apartment set up in a water tank --- for several months, nominally a protest against high taxes; the docent kept having more to say about it.)
I mentioned the Fascination sign. We did see the Fascination parlor and peeked in several times, confirming that games were going on. We'd wanted to play, and also thought how we need to let MWS know we'd been to another park with a Fascination parlor working (we've also been to Wildwood, Knoebels, and Darien Lake, pretty good representation for a disappearing midway attraction). But we thought to go in to it only if we had time when we didn't see something else we wanted to do. And then we walked a little past the midway games on the Lake Shafer side of things we discovered ... pinball.
When we visited in 2016 we'd heard there was a FunHouse, and we looked for it but never found it; eventually we learned the table, if it was there, was at the campground, off ... somewhere. So we didn't expect there'd be anything and it was a shock to see many tables. And not just that, but a great selection of tables. Two electromechanical games, from the mid-70s. A couple early solid-state tables, including a 1978 Atari Space Riders. The early-80s game Black Hole. More modern games too, including New Stern tables like Elvis and Monopoly. Three Jersey Jack tables, too: Wizard of Oz, Dialed In!, and Willy Wonka. The electromechanicals and the Atari game were turned off, a small disappointment. But we took photos to document just what tables there were, to add to the pinball location databases of the world. And we resolved to play something. And noted that the tables were clearly maintained by someone who knew what they were doing. We could see the workbench where they had supplies, and could see, for example, that the newer tables had been set up to work with Scorbit, this Internet-based tool for making it easy to log scores and compare them to other venues' tables. If that weren't enough, there was also a penny-press machine. And a couple of console video games set in the corner, free for the playing by kids who don't understand why their parents are so excited to see a Simpsons Pinball Party.
We played the Black Hole, always a tough game, even in simulation. Neither of us got the multiball started, or even close to starting, but that's what to expect from that era of game. We did have the feeling we should put our initials on some high score table somewhere and looked for what games might be the easiest pickings. Batman '66 seemed like a great choice since it's got five billion achievement tables. But, clearly, someone who knows pinball haunts the venue too. Possibly the person who maintains the game. The high score on Batman '66 was about 24 billion points, and that is a high-scoring game but still, wow, that is absurdly high-scoring.
We settled on Wizard of Oz as our best chance to get on a high score table, and specifically to get on the daily-high-score table since that started at a meager 30,000 points or so. Wizard of Oz is a low-scoring table, but it's not usually that low. And this was a successful calculation. While neither of us had played Wizard of Oz in a while, and the rules can be a bit obscure, the table was clean and in good shape, and we were both able to get multiballs started. So we were able to put our initials in the daily-high table and leave feeling we'd shown ourselves as respectable visitors to this location.
One more happy discovery. When we go to amusement parks we joke that our dining options are pizza or cheese fries. Especially smaller or independent parks. We were ready for that here, too. I did notice a sign that they had fried vegetables at the hot dog stand, and suggested that. ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bunnyhugger thought I was speculating but went along with me, and was delighted to see there were fried vegetables just as I said. We got one bowl each and are very happy to report they were great. Not just because they were fresh-made for us, though that helps; they were also a great selection of vegetables. Abundant and great-tasting, all of them. Plus a couple mozzarella sticks on top of everything else.
This all brought us terribly near the closing hour of the park. We'd go back around for last rides on things that seemed especially choice. Cornball Express, still running, had reached the point where they let you re-ride as long as nobody in the entrance queue wanted your seats. So we got a front-row seat, and then moved to a second-row seat, and we might have gone again except that was getting to be a bit much all at once. We then went over to Tig'rr Coaster for a ride there, and noticed ... boy, we were near the end of the night. What did we want to do? I suggested we go to the ice cream stand and get dessert, and let ourselves call the day well-accomplished.
So we did, eating ice cream and walking the 'boardwalk' length to the far end of the park, as twilight finally gave way to night and we got our short time seeing the park illuminated in darkness. This would also let us take a long uninterrupted walk back to the car, satisfying bunnyhugger's daily exercise needs. (She had walked well more than a mile already, but not in a basically uninterrupted whole.) We also resolved, you know, this is a long day trip, but one we could certainly make again, even this summer. I hope we'll be able to.
With that, we bade farewell to Indiana Beach and as nearly perfect a day as we could reasonably hope for. And then ...
As we were starting the four-and-a-half-hour drive home, out in the deep wilderness of Monticello, Indiana roads, I saw something in the street ahead, and braked harder than usual. There was a young raccoon --- bigger than an infant, not yet fully grown --- shuffling across the street. In a day that had already given us so much, here was one extra bit of happiness to top it off.
Outstanding day. Would highly recommend.
Let's enjoy another bit of that last look at the Pipsqueakery, at Anthrohio's Sunday, shall we?
One rat tries to climb their way up into the next floor apartment to join their neighbor in a drink.
And a hedgehog spends even more of the weekend curled up inside a shark plush.
Meanwhile, some more guinea pigs, including one of those brushy-haired models I don't think they had when I was a kid.
Trivia: The Sultan of Achin (modern Aceh, Indonesia) asked Cornelis de Houtman, a Dutch captain whose expedition left for the East Indies in 1595, whether he was from England --- and asked the same at their second meeting --- though at the time no English ships had yet sailed to the East Indies. (Many individual English sailors had, in Portugese vessels.) Source: In Quest of Spices, Sonia E Howe. (Later the same year an English vessel under James Lancaster's command did arrive.)
Currently Reading: Harvey Comics Treasury Volume 2: Hot Stuff, Editor Leslie Cabarga. Getting back to the level of storytelling I can handle lately.
