An Amazing Speedway Experience
The title of this little tale has nothing to do with NASCAR or Gran Prix racing or any real racing at all. It refers to the little racetrack in Tomorrowland at The Magic Kingdom in Orlando, Florida. I know everyone has their own special and unique Disney World experience, but one would be hard pressed to beat what happened to my granddaughter and me at the Tomorrowland Speedway some time ago. And I don’t think that the Disney officials will forget it for quite some time, either.
It was late in the afternoon, just before twilight, when my granddaughter, Jessie, out for a grandfather and granddaughter day at the Magic Kingdom, and I climbed into one of those mini Tomorrowland NASCARs kids love. Where else can a nine-year-old get behind the wheel of a fake race car and, the metal rails confining the car notwithstanding, take a whirl around a fake raceway at speeds that rival the speed of snail? What happened next, however, was something that still haunts my dreams to this day.
Just before Jessie stomped down on the gas, the car lurched forward and then paused for a moment, and we heard the vehicle talk. “Whadda ya say we blow this popsicle stand and really take a tour of the park?”
“Papa,” Jessie said to me, “did you say something?”
“No, Jess,” I replied, “I think…..I think the voice was coming from the car.”
“Oh, great,” the voice said. “I pick a couple of geniuses to be my guinea pigs. Of course it’s me talking, you two jamokes! Do you see anyone else around? I’m offering you a time like no one else has ever had hear at Mouse Ears International.”
“Either Disney has created a new attraction based on that Cars movie,” I mentioned to Jessie, “or this little jalopy is talking to us.”
“Of course I’m taking to you! Who else is around on this ride, Walt Disney himself?”
“Disney,” I admonished the little car, “prefers the term attraction over ride.”
“Attraction, smacksion,” the car snapped back. “Do you want the ride of your life or not?”
“He IS talking to us, Papa!” Jessie cried out.
Now, at this point in my fanciful story, I know what you’re thinking. How can one of Disney’s cars, absent those on the silver screen, talk to or address one of its guests? And because of the metal rails binding the cars on the raceway, how could the car take the guest on a tour of the entire park? And even if the little thing could jump the track, how could it get past the six-foot high fence surrounding the entire attraction? I was thinking the same thing myself…..but I digress. All these questions will be answered in due time.
“Okay,” leaning back, I replied to the little-car-that-could, “I’ll bite. Once around the park, Jeeves.” I said this rather sarcastically, of course, thinking there was no way that the car, the fact that it could actually speak notwithstanding, could deliver on its promise. After all, those little cars barely go as fast as a kid’s tricycle, so I thought we were in no danger whatsoever.
In response to my answer, however, and to my utter amazement, the little car began to go faster than any of those little cars could possibly travel, and took off toward the first turn on the racetrack, tires burning rubber, smoke trailing behind us.
“Hey,” I yelled out to the car, “how can you be going this fast? These things usually go about two or three miles an hour tops!”
“Ha!” the car sneered back. “Disney thinks a little engine governor can slow me down. I figured out how to disable that sucker long ago!”
With that, because the car was doing at least fifty miles per hour, it was able to jump the metal rails with ease. After hitting the grass alongside the track, the car sped toward the fence surrounding the place.
“Whoa, little fella!” I exclaimed, clutching the sides of the car in horror. “How are you going to get over that fence?”
“Don’t worry, bubela! I’ve been eyeing a crack in their defense, and I do mean ‘de fence’, for some time now. The two of you just need to duck down as low as you can get so as not to get decapitated!”
“Not getting decapitated is a good thing, I guess. Right, Jess? I mean, it’s not something usually associated with a weekend outing at Disney.”
“No,” replied Jessie, “I don’t think my mom would appreciate me coming home decapitated, Papa!”
Heading his warning, Jessie and I scrunched down as far as we could and the car popped through a small fissure in the fence and we were then footloose and fancy free out in the park itself. I can still see the looks on the faces of those tourists waiting outside the Speedway when they saw the little car, going faster than any little car they had ever seen before, motor on by them.
“So sorry, ma’am!” I yelled to a female Japanese tourist whose chocolate-covered frozen banana was inadvertently snatched from her salivating mouth by Jessie as we got a tad too close when zipping by. “Beg your pardon, sir!” I then yelled to a fat German tourist whose bratwurst went flying out of his hand as the little car gave him a nasty little hip check any Boston Bruin would be proud of.
“Listen, Christine,” I yelled out to the car in an off-handed reference to the Stephen King novel, “you need to be more careful with those tourists so close by. For some strange reason, Disney takes a dim view of its attractions murdering the guests!”
“I’ve always wanted to take a jaunt on Space Mountain,” the car shot back, ignoring my admonishment about being careful. “Both of us being Tomorrowland rides…..”
“Attractions!” I interrupted.
“All right…..ATTRACTIONS! Both of us being Tomorrowland attractions, I got to see that Space Mountain a million times a day, seeing all of those tourists waiting hours just to go around inside there for a few short minutes, and I have always wanted to take a turn there myself. So here we go, guys!”
Before I could object, the little car was speeding toward the queue for Space Mountain, tourists jumping out of the way for their dear lives, and heading up the inside ramp for Space Mountain itself. The little guy swerved and weaved in and out of tourist traffic until we were very quickly at the front of the line. I had no idea what the car would do next, as there was no way the three of us could fit into one of those Space Mountain spaceships. I soon found out, however, that fitting into a spaceship was the farthest thing from the little car’s mind. He simply bypassed the cars and hopped onto the roller coaster’s track. Soon, we were zipping around in the dark, heading up and down the coaster track, probably faster than the other tourists in their simple spaceships. I kept my eyes closed most of the time, since we were not strapped in as is necessary for this type of roller coaster ride (the flimsy little cloth seat belts Disney uses in the Tomorrowland Speedway were quite inadequate, I must say, for the twists and turns of Space Mountain. I was never certain, in fact, why Disney even put those stupid useless seat belts on the Speedway attraction, anyway, as no one can get hit hard enough on that track to put the seat belts to any good use).
Jessie was no help at all. All she kept doing was raising both arms and squealing with delight, “Weeeeeeeeeeeee!”
As we exited the attraction, heading out through the Space Mountain gift shop, of course, where Disney always dumps its guests at the end of a ride, several souvenir Space Mountain coffee mugs spilled over into the car as we knocked over quite a few souvenir displays that were unlucky enough to be in the direct path of our destructive little friend.
“Where to next, guys?” the little car asked. “I’ve heard that Splash Mountain is great this time of year!”
“No, no more rides…..er, I mean…..attractions! You can just pull over next to that hot dog stand over there and let us out, please.” I said this as I noticed several Disney security guards were moving in fast and I didn’t think they would buy the excuse that the car itself had kidnapped us and forced us on this merry little journey (I did have Plan B in mind, however, if we got caught, as Jessie was the one actually driving the car, so I could always throw her under the bus).
“Sorry, pal,” the car replied. “I’m out on my own for the first time and we are going to paint the town, or theme park, as it were, red!”
With that, we headed over to Adventureland and took a quick detour through The Swiss Family Robinson Tree House. It was amazing to see how the little car maneuvered through those swinging hanging wooden bridges (it had to go on two wheels several times). With the speed we were going, this attraction took on more of the form of Space Mountain, our previous adventure. I don’t believe the stairs and bridges on that attraction were designed for the maneuvers the little car was performing. In fact, I’m quite sure of it.
From there, we hit (both literally and figuratively) the Pirates of the Caribbean. The look on the Johnny Depp animatronic character’s face was one for the books, I can tell you, as the little speed demon ran over his toes on the way out. Then, as promised, we motored toward Splash Mountain for a quick dip. I don’t think those animatronic Br’er Rabbit figures appreciated the detours we took through their happy little staged scenes, though. Poor Br’er Fox may never be the same after he was hit as a pedestrian by our little friend.
Again, Jessie was no help at all and was screaming in utter delight as we slid down the final flume drop at the end of the ride, “Weeeeeeeeeeeee!”
“Look, little guy,” I pleaded with the car, “this is not going to end well for any of us. Right now, Disney’s PG version of a SWAT Team is probably gathering outside Splash Mountain, ready to cut us down like Osama Bin Laden with whatever weapons the mouse allows them to carry. Why don’t you just stop right here and let us off? We won’t tell anyone your little secret!”
“Tell you what I’m gonna do,” he replied. “One quick jaunt around Tom Sawyer’s Island, a Mickey Mouse ice cream bar or two, and we’ll call it a night.”
Those two dozen Disney Security guards who dove for cover as the little car headed directly toward the center of the pack did not look kindly on us as we whizzed by. After they were sure the little car was not coming around for another pass at them, they got up and began chasing us as we motored to out next destination. At every turn, there appeared to be more security guards joining the fray until there was a cozy little army of mouse-eared guards on our tail.
The car was especially eager to tour the little cave on the island and the fort as well. As suddenly as we began our adventure, however, it was over. Just short of the Mike Fink Keel Boats, he stopped and said, “Okay, all bums out!”
Not giving him a chance to change his mind, Jessie and I hurriedly hopped out of the racecar and watched him ride off on his own, Disney security fast on his tail (probably thinking Jessie and I were still occupants). I couldn’t help thinking that all of those Disney guards looked a bit like Mack Sennett’s Keystone Cops as they were stumbling over one another in their attempt to run down a car that none of them had the speed to catch. I quickly grabbed Jessie and we both ducked down behind a nearby bush as the angry security guards rushed by.
Jessie and I dusted ourselves off and both vowed never again to avail ourselves of that infernal Tomorrowland Speedway ride….er, attraction. However, after a subsequent visit to the park and a ride on the Mad Hatter Tea Cups, I also added that attraction to those forever banned (don’t ask me why, and don’t let this become public knowledge, but those Mad Hatter Tea Cups are the only Disney attraction that makes me nauseous). After we were free from the maniac miniature car, we quickly left Tom Sawyer’s Island and headed toward the exit.
I think I read later that week that Disney was shutting down the Tomorrowland Speedway attraction for the time being, as there was some sort of malfunction with one of the cars veering off the metal track and spinning wildly through the park. Thankfully, there was no mention of either Jesse or me, though. However, I’m sure one of those Japanese tourists snapped a picture or two of us, so I’m not sure we are completely out of the woods yet. I keep scanning the Japanese newspapers online for photos of two scared Disney guests doing wheelies through the park.
No comments:
Post a Comment