The Emperor.
It was a rather weird iconoclastic point of pride for me that, after moving to SD in '96 for grad school, I never made it to Sea World until a couple of years ago. Once I finally went, I see that one roller coaster; like its namesake penguin species, the tallest of the bunch.
Not only does it feature a 14-story near-vertical drop to open, but the train actually crests the peak and pauses, for several seconds, with your feet dangling (there is no floor) and your head looking down a slope 5 degrees off of perpendicular. And there, if you're dumb enough to open your eyes, you notice that you can't see the track all the way down. That's because it not only goes full perpendicular, but then it actually scoops inwards a little bit before you get scooped back up and sent into the first loop.
And I swore there was absolutely no way I would ever get on that ride. Nope. Not gonna do it. Terrified of heights. I'll ride the Manta a seventeenth time, but I ain't doin' that shit. Make me look at my fate and consider my poor life choices before you drop me? Fuck that.
Today, I'm there with my daughter and we're having a great time; Michigan has been defeated soundly in their home, Notre Dame lost to NIU in their own house, OU is struggling with Houston for fuck's sake and life is good. And while in line for the brilliantly-designed flume ride Journey to Atlantis,* a very stupid thought led to a very stupid sentence escaping my lips: "I think I might actually be brave enough to try that."
My 10-year-old daughter seized the moment. "I dare you. I double dog dare you. We're going on it."
After Atlantis, I looked at my watch (are we close to closing time?) checked my condition (hungry? need to shit? anything?) and realized I'd done it to myself. I had no legitimate excuses. Sure, I could just declare "We're not doing it" and ... what lesson would my daughter learn from that?
There was almost no line.
As soon as the ride started going up, that was it. I closed my eyes. I kept them closed until we were at the end of first drop. From then on, it was 50/50. Was my daughter scared? Hell no. She was whooping it up and smiling and having a great time.**
"We're doing it again, and we're getting in the front row, this time."
We got to the top, and I opened my eyes this time. The view was great! And then we got to that stop at the top and I looked down, saw where the track disappeared, and wished I had kept 'em shut.
By the end of that ride, my heart couldn't take it any more. But my daughter was going to go again, this time by herself. While waiting, there was a delay in starting the ride, as a young woman Just Could Not and got back out of her seat. And on the video I took, you can hear me tell her, "I don't blame you. I don't blame you one bit."
My nerves didn't calm down again until we were almost arrived to the Butcher N Cheese*** for dinner.
*Seriously, it's amazing. You think you've just finished a bog-standard flume ride and are heading back to the loading area... but no, you get lifted up onto an elevator and then it becomes a massive roller coaster ride... and hits another pool cleverly hidden away, with fences blocking your view from the park and even the loading area.
**I, meanwhile, was swearing up a blue streak right in front of my kid. I made no apologies.
***Might bloody well be the best burgers I've ever eaten. The meat is all fresh-ground, the buns come from an excellent bakery half a block away and are fresh and flawless, and every topping has time and homemade effort put into them.