Adventures at Six Flags: Wrath of Rakshasa

After my very enjoyable ride on an Amtrak passenger train a week ago, it wasn’t long before I was taking the ride I had been looking forward to all summer.

 

A roller coaster named “Wrath of Rakshasa” opened at the Six Flags Great America theme park in Gurnee, Ill., in June: I had been looking for my chance to ride it ever since. Fortunately for me, my sister-in-law Joan lives only 15 minutes from the park, and has an extra bedroom she’s willing to let me use. Even more fortunately, she also loves roller coasters.

 

There are 11 or more at Six Flags, and we’ve ridden them all together numerous times.

If you’ve ever been to a theme park, you know a large percentage of your time there is usually spent standing in line waiting for your turn. That’s why it’s nice to have at least one companion–so you have someone to talk with while waiting. One topic which comes up at least once each trip is trying to decide which of the many coasters are our favorites. We never manage to choose one favorite, you see, because sometimes it is a certain feature of the ride we like, as opposed to the ride as a whole.

 

For example, some have “cars” (the arrangements of seats) which include a side by side bench for two and a fairly simple seat belt. Riders sit in a (very fast) carriage holding on to a grab bar with their hands while their feet are planted on the floor. Other cars harness the riders in with over-the-shoulder metal rigs and leave the riders’ feet dangling in space. One ride at Six Flags, named “Superman,” is even designed to mimic flying free through the air, so the riders are harnessed in seats from the buttocks upward, their legs are held in place from below, and then the whole car tips forward so everyone is facing downward.

 

Joan and I have been enjoying the rides together for at least two decades, so we have seen different versions come and go. We have also noted that the rides on coasters become less smooth as their structures age. 

 

All these elements are up for discussion as we work our way through lines which sometimes have hundreds and hundreds of people in them, leaving a great deal of time for analysis and debate. Another way to phrase it would be “anticipation.”

 

This past weekend, we had other items on our schedule, and so planned to squeeze in only three to four hours at the park. Thus, we walked right past some of our other favorites and went straight to Wrath of Rakshasa. 

 

At least for the time being, the ride holds two world records. Riders experience five inversions, meaning, they turn upside down five times. Near the beginning, riders are taken 171 feet in the air. Their car is sent just over the curve of a long drop and held there for a brief moment, then flies downward along a “more than vertical 96-degree drop.” In other words, not just “straight down” but slightly inward. The five inversions and the 96 degrees are the records. Also impressive, though not records, are the two-minute duration and the top speed of 67 miles per hour. 

 

Rather than having me spend any more time trying to describe the ride, let me recommend a YouTube “point of view” (POV) video taken from the front row; just search for “Ride of Rakshasa POV.” Watching it gives a strong feel for the actual experience.

 

Approaching the ride, one gets an impression of a gigantic maze of twists, turns and loops which builds tremendous anticipation. 

 

So, Joan and I arrived at the park and walked straight to our objective. As we got in line, we walked past many empty switchbacks for the line, only reaching other people about halfway in. Perhaps it was because we were enjoying our conversation, but we were both surprised at how quickly the line advanced. Joan had already taken the ride three times before, and so shared some of her impressions and experiences.

 

For one thing, there were three cars, also known as “trains,” in operation; each one holds up to 21 riders in three rows, each seven seats wide. The loading process is quite streamlined, so it takes only a few minutes to get everyone into their seats and harnessed. So at any given time, one train is loading, another is on the track for its two-minute run, and a third one is returning to the station, ready to unload its passengers and allow the next set on.

 

All our circumstances aligned in such a way that it was almost exactly 30 minutes from the time we walked through the entry gate to the time we were being unloaded from our completed ride. We were very pleased, having waited two hours and more for other roller coasters during their first seasons.

 

Knowing we had to leave the park for a few hours for a family get-together, we worked our way back toward the entrance, stopping for an icy treat and to take two other rides along the way. 

 

When the party was over, we were uncertain whether it was worth it to return to the park. By the time we would arrive, there would be only about 45 minutes before the park was due to close. We decided no, then yes, then no, then finally yes, and dashed back. 

 

With such a short time left, I said we should ride Wrath of Rakshasa again, and so we headed to the line entry. We walked past a few more empty switchbacks than we had earlier in the day, and found ourselves seated and full of anticipation after only about 25 minutes, at which point it was about 10 minutes to closing time at 8 p.m.

 

As our train returned to the station for unloading, people in the car were shouting “one more time” in unison. The ride operator made a statement something like, “If you really want to go one more time, go around and get back in line. You should still have time to do it before they put the chains across the entry.”

 

So we took him up on his suggestion. Policy at the park, you see, is that if you are in a line before closing time, you get to take your ride. We got back to the entry gate and walked on in, right past even more empty switchbacks than either of the other two times.

 

Thus it was that we found ourselves “closing down” the ride–that is, we were passengers on the very last train of the evening, sometime around 8:20 p.m.  After a summer of anticipation, three rides in a single day seemed like a triumphant accomplishment.

 

Harnessed into our seats, I looked over at Joan and, remembering our back-and-forth decision only about 80 minutes before, said, “Boy, I’m sure glad we decided to come back to the park.”