Once upon a summer day blazing, I stood in line upward gazing / At a roller coaster whose feats inspire lore. / Through the leaves I did espy rising against the sunny sky / A lift hill climbing, climbing from the forest floor. / The top was only 80 feet above the floor. / Eighty feet from top to bottom and nothing more.
Such dimensions these days are modest, and if I might be truly honest / I wondered if this stop might be a brief detour. / The Voyage lay awaiting yonder, and I would not easily wander / From the ride that was beckoning, beckoning as a lure. / I had come to Indiana to chase that lure. / All else seemed a mere distraction and nothing more.
I climbed into the Raven’s back seat and soon enough we taxied / Up the lowly lift hill of which I spoke before. / Then the train that lift hill crested and my attention was arrested / By the sudden launching, launching of the four. / In the rearmost car the asses numbered four / That down the first drop would touch their seats no more.
At this point I should mention the Raven held my full attention / As we careered through the forest at full bore. / As we sped along the course, I was awestruck by the force / So much so that verily, verily I did ignore / The Voyage; even the Voyage I did ignore. / I thought only of the Raven and nothing more.
Then, I give you my word, we were launched more sharply skyward / By an even fiercer drop the ride had kept in store / Not only to surprise us but even more so to chastise us / For our doubts lingering, lingering heretofore. / The doubts that had plagued us heretofore / Of Raven’s status would plague us now no more.
Still, the Raven would not rest but became even more possessed / As faster and faster through the woods it tore. / CCI thus understood that when it comes to building wood / Bigger is not better, better is hardcore. / Few coasters twice as big are so hardcore. / May the Raven impart this lesson ever more.
[With humble apologies to Edgar Allen Poe]
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