I had a good nine hours to ponder the question during the long ride home from Dollywood, and Im fully confident that Ive made the right decision: My new Southern metal band will be called "Thunderhead," and our first single will be a cover of "I Will Always Love You." Electric dobro player needed. Please apply below in comments section.
As for the Ample-Chested-Ones gift to wooden roller coaster lovers everywhere, I am somewhat more indecisive, but I must reluctantly conclude that, while worthy of recognition and praise, it still does not rate with such other mid-sized standouts as Raven, Cornball Express, and Avalanche. Sharp drops, airtime, and intensity will always win out for me over twistiness and quick directional changes. I cant fault Thunderhead for anything it does, and its lookin better than a coaster has a right to, but when all was said and done, it wasnt messin up my mind and fillin up my senses like the great ones.
Like Kentucky Rumbler, Thunderhead is sort of the double bock of the GCI genre. It begins with an s-curve, followed by cross-overs aplenty. It also sports Millennium Flyers and the characteristic smoothness of its Boodlian brethren. However, it punches up the standard fare with several notable instances of floater air and a bit of shake, rattle, and roll to remind you that, Millenium Flyers notwithstanding, youre still on a bona fide wooden coaster, by God. We also had the good fortune to ride Thunderhead in a steady rain, and under those conditions, it had an intensity almost approaching aggressiveness. These are the rides that linger in my memory and make my pinky finger hover tantalizingly over the "9" button. Yet after after about a dozen circuits, the Alpine-slideness started to feel a bit cliche, and the moments of inspiration in the layout were ever muted by those stupid Flyer restraints, which lay in ones lap like a vinyl-coated boat anchor. For all the twistiness, the layout did feel more sprawling and less clausterphobic than the worst of the GCI offenders (e.g., SFAs Roar), and it generally stayed low to the ground, maintaining its intensity to the very end. But geez Louise, if ever a roller coaster called for a low, plunging drop augmented by a set of camel backs, one would think the star attraction at Dollywood would be it.
I salute you, loyal legions of Thunderhead, and I recognize the merit in your object of devotion. We part not on the subject of virtue, only on matters of taste. I can no more justify my relative indifference toward twisters than I can argue for coffee ice cream over mint chocolate chip. Thunderhead is every bit the roller coaster that you, and the Songbird of the Smokies, promised it would be. It was not, however, the crossover sensation that would teach me to love a twister.
|