tinkknitz: Expedition Everest

accommodate - u'kâmu`deyt (v) make fit for, or change to suit a new purpose

In Walt Disney World, it’s what they do.

On our honeymoon in 1999, I was introduced to the scooter rental. After minor knee surgery that should have healed quicker, our trip would have been a bit less fun without those wheels. (Tip of the hat to Laura for the suggestion and the wedding gift of Disney Bucks that covered it) And a bonus! At the Mouse, a wheelchair or scooter would go to a separate line. This avoided an hour wait in line sometimes which was waaaay cool, but I worried about dirty looks. When I was more mobile and in other amusement parks I found it rough to go through a line, get to a ride I couldn’t navigate, discover there’s no easy way to go back, and contend with those dirty looks. Holding up other folks while Bobby helped me balance or pick up my brace was less than optimal – and embarrassing. I came to appreciate Disney’s special boarding areas for water rides most. The balance thing again. The raft guys just let me “go again” if it wasn’t crowded to save time getting me in and out.

In 2001 we visited Disneyland and Disney's California Adventure in Anaheim. As Bobby said,” They don’t know how to do Disney here”. But Disneyland is an old park. It wasn’t built to handle the number of rental strollers, wheelchairs and scooters they rent much less the one I brought with me. Heck, people on foot were complaining about the narrow passageways and stairs. But they’re a classic; they do the best they can. However, California Adventure opened just 4 months before our trip. Repeatedly employees told us all attraction lines are accessible - there are no special lines - wheelchairs go in the same lines as everybody else -only to find out there were stairs, there was a separate line around the corner and I had to back my scooter down the hill. Through the people. We weren’t popular. Sheesh! Some of those ‘cast members’ should never have passed the audition. I guess the expanded opportunity for actors in Southern California has diluted the talent pool. But I digress.

Our next trip in 2003 took us back to Orlando and our love affair with the Mouse. By then I had my own scooter, of necessity and never had to wonder if the battery was fully charged. And the room, ahhhh the room. Disney introduced me to roll-in showers the first trip. Every time we go I want to put in my change of address.

This trip was different.

Oh, the Mouse hasn’t gone down hill. I have. Increased weakness on my right side has made it tougher to navigate stepping down into or over the side of the attractions I love to see. Even with my Bobby there to look me in the eye and convince me I am safe, there are a lot I just can’t maneuver in anymore. On our last trip to an amusement park in the fall, I got my brace stuck in a roller coaster. It wasn’t pretty.

Before embarking on our Disney trip I had little time, but managed to check out the accessible section of their website. Wow! What a lot of information. I weeded through it and gleaned a page of pertinent info to print – adding it to my handy vacation packet. Two things had caught my eye. One of them was in today’s destination - Animal Kingdom.

Expedition Everest

With angst I approached their new roller coaster Expetition Everest. I sidled up to the cast member in front and asked him if there was a seat I could try out before I got in the line. Suuuuuure! Go right along that wall and Melissa will help you. Sure enough Melissa was there alongside one of the cars for the ride on the ground. She explained: You can ride your scooter right up to the top. After your ride, one of the cast members will take it to the exit for you. She answered all my questions. There would be 11 seconds to board. No, I wouldn’t have to step down into it. Yes, the bar moves if you put your hand on it. Yes, Bobby can go in first then help me get my foot over the . . . Oh, would you like to open the door on the side instead and walk in?

::blink blink::

She stepped to the rear of the car and pulled hard on a latch. See, now both of you can just walk in.

::blink blink::

I sat in that car and cried. I was trying to make her understand what she was giving me. Melissa comforted me as I tried to express the years of frustration as my roller coaster riding days diminished. For once I was gaining mobility but the emotion just kept leaking out my eyes. She excused herself for just a moment and came back with a pad and pen, asking my name and address. I hesitated, but gave it – surely my information was safe with this goddess of rollercoasters. She then handed me a special pass to ride Expedition Everest at any time of day and skip all lines. Better than a Fast Pass! I told her no, save that for the kids with cancer and - Nope you’re special.

I cried some more while Bobby kept saying,” You’re going on a roller coaster, Boo”. The three of us talked for a while until I stopped shaking. Then we were off to Expedition Everest with a promise to scream her name from the top so she could hear us before we disappeared into the mountain.

Melissa Rocks!

I had boarded with ease and was yelling that with Bobby as the coaster inched up the outside of the mountain. The kids in front of us joined in.

Melissa Rocks!

Our ride had begun but was short lived. Something was wrong with the track and the ride had stopped. The track lurched with a terrible screech of metal. Suddenly! The shadow of the creature itself danced on the wall of the cave. As our train began to move backward into the darkness, I could see the mangled track where the Yeti had ripped it from the mountain. Now what? Hanging vertical like a bat waiting for the sun to go down, I knew what was coming.

It was sweet.

In total darkness we plummeted twisting and writhing within the bowels of the Himalayas. Strobe lights flashed in the night to capture the horrified expressions on our faces (available in the gift shop for $18). Because the whole thing takes place inside the mountain I have no idea if we were upside down or inside out but IT. WAS. GRAND. Then the sky opened up and the Yeti reached down for us, howling and swinging from more twisted tracks. I knew we were doomed.

I was crying and shaking with laughter when we pulled into the station, but managed to get out and hobble over to Trey who was waiting with my scooter. My whole body tingled - heart thumping, ears buzzing, wild eyes leaking, YEAH! Oh, yeah. I could barely turn the key. When we got down to the gift shop, Melissa was there. I held her like a kindred spirit thanking her for her part in the explosion in my heart. Finally I let her go.

The rest of Animal Kingdom was nice.

We rode Expedition Everest 7 times, the last time as it's final two guests. The cast members had become our friends and although Melissa had gone home, Trey presented us with a small card signed by everyone declaring it a certified magical moment. It and the picture of us on that first horrifying drop (priceless at $18) are framed and I look at it daily to remember the exhilaration of screaming into the face of that giant animatronic Yeti.

It was after the extended hours and we were the last to leave the park . I turned to say goodbye to my Everest.