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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