Knoebels, More Stuff

Continuing...
One thing that has me inordinately mad about Knoebels is that they started to build what seems like the potential for the most awesome wooden rollercoaster ever... and then they stopped. It was called The Flying Turns, and it's a coaster without a track. Instead the car will go through a sled like series of bends and luges making the ride slightly different with the weight displacement and OH MY GOD HOW AWESOME DOES THAT SOUND. It was set to open this year, and instead sits a half finished hulk.

There's a lot of explanations on their website about how they didn't anticipate the difficulties of designing a ride like this and.... whatever. I will personally kidnap a hoard of physicists and steal a few copies of CAD for them to figure this one out. No excuses, dammit, this must be completed and I must ride with the 20 fattest men I can find to get the full gravity effect.

Alright... Calming down. On the brighter side, they have a ridiculous number of hurdy gurdys and carusol music makers around the park. You know, the ones which play Sousa marches with the figurines in front. Sadly, the makers were never allowed to see a woman before carving one, so they substituted the face of their uncle Ned.

Also, they hadn't seen one unclothed, so they just winged that one.


And, in the one last awesome thing category, see if you can remember this water fountain:
There were literally dozens of these around when I was a kid in the eighties. I remember zebras, tigers, bears and Mr. Lion here. It makes me so happy to see he's still around. Not that I'd stick my head in there to drink if I was paid, that's just nasty and some kid probably slobbered all over the faucet, but still, it's good it exists.

Knoebels, The Rides

Continuing on yesterday (and having amnesia regarding the day before), more about Knoebels.
The rides are, of course, the main draw, and they have some amazing pieces there (even if you're not attracted to them in that way). The absolute hands down star is the Phoenix. Phoenix originally was in San Antonio and named the Rocket, but was moved to Knoebels in 1985. It's essentially been there the entire time I've been old enough to be aware of the existance of rollercoasters, it was the first coaster I rode on, and it is still hands down my favorite and the best coaster I've ridden. I say that as a coaster aficiando and someone who actually had a summer job as a teen running a coaster. Phoenix has the perfect equation of a tunnel and a nice long series of lift you out of your seat bumps. I'm not the only one who thinks so either, the ride has an entire trophy case at the bottom of awards it's won.

The other coaster is Twister, another rescued coaster. It's okay, I went on it opening weekend and have a soft spot for no other reason. The track is a little shakey and the turns are tiring after a while, frankly.

While I'm making it painfully obvious the history I have with this place, I'll point out that the Hand Cars were the best part about being a child and I nearly wept when I outgrew them. Doesn't matter that the ride is older than my mother.

Keeping with the preservation of history deal, the place has a two carusols. The one is a large, historical deal, with weird paintings of absurb scenarios from the turn of the century. (The one above has a woman spanking a man. Another has a woman playing baseball. Scandalous. Several of the other feature characature drunks.) The fun part about the carosul is that they actually have brass rings for you to catch, which I've never seen anywhere else.

Don't you love it? That's the Sky Slide, and it's just that, a giant slide where you walk up the center and slide down around and around the outside. It's so wonderfully simple, retro, and fun. Half the people coming down are parents with babies and toddlers all laughing, and the lines for this one get surpringly long.

One of the things you have to understand about Knoebels is that they don't charge admission. You either buy an unlimited pass for the rides or tickets to ride them, and pay for food, but you can come and go out of the park as you please. They even provide huge pavilions for you to bring your own food and picnic, provided you clean up your area. So, if you're just bringing your kids and not riding, it's a huge savings. Plus, thanks to the picnicing, they keep their food prices lower than you'd pay at, say Busch Gardens. It's still overpriced, but not highway robbery.

Right, I can stretch this into another day, can't I? Not like anyone's reading this...

Knoebels, Part One

Every summer, I face a problem. On one hand, I love a good coaster. On the other hand, coasters tend to live in slick amusement parks with overly planned layouts and screaming lines. Which is why I go to Knoebels. Even though there's only two coasters, I'd rather ride them dozens of times than wait hours at the other places.

The reason Knoebels is awesome is one reason alone. The place holds, above all else, to a sense of history. It officially started in 1926, although people visited to picnic and use the swimming hole there previously. More importantly, the place feels every year since. They haven't really found the need to revamp everything into a streamlined modern affair. Instead, you feel like you're walking through a series of stages of building into what it is now. The place feels established. It's an aesthetic that the big amusement parks would love to have, but would fail miserably on.

That isn't to say that the place is run down. In fact, it's meticulously well maintained. Everything, from the rides to the buildings is fresh and clean, and even the oldest rides are solid and safe. The whole place celebrates it's age, and with it, it's own kitsch. In fact, they seek it out, hosting three museums, including one to about it's own history and constantly finding old rides to bring in to the park, restore and preserve a sense of what amusement parks were. A good example is the Looper, their newest ride to date. It was built in the 50s and was a common ride of the day, but this one had fallen into disrepair and disuse. Knoebels bought it, restored perfectly it using the advice of the original engineer, and it's the only one of its type operational in the United States. This isn't the sort of place where rides go to die, it's where they go to be treasured and preserved.

The fact that they don't mess with the established areas of the park means that there's plenty of areas where you feel like you should be standing next to Don Draper from Mad Men as he watches the kiddies and smokes. Above, for instance, is the giant pink birthday cake with candles that sits on top of candy canes and serves as one of the rentable pavillions. Or almost the entire children's area. The Panther Cars and Bumper Cars are both a dream for anyone looking for the location of a 50s or 60s period scene in a movie. It's amazing this place hasn't been found yet.

Course, not changing too much has it's problems. There's the Loaf, a building shaped like, well, a loaf of bread. The main drag of the fair now goes behind the building, meaning you walk by a lot of exposed ductwork. (Around front, the giant loaf of bread inexplicably serves frozen yougart, in a connection I don't quite get).

The other fun part about touring around the place is trying to date things based on the fonts--They range from Art Deco to sixties flowery style to faux eighties dot matrix and everything in between.

Anyway, I'm posting this specifically today as this weekend and next they are opening the park for a Halloween haunted special. Some of the rides will be open, as well as special haunted stuff, so if you want to check the place out before next year, you have a great chance.

The most disturbing amusement park ride

Alright. I'm about to spend my next few posts singing the praises of one of my favorite amusement parks, Knoebels. But, I honestly have to get this out of the way before I do because, frankly, it's just too weird to skim over or not give its own post. If you're a little prudish, skip this one.

In Knoebels, there is a (surprisingly difficult to photograph) ride named 1001 Nachts. It's a "gondola" style ride, with a platform attached to an arm which turns 360 degrees. It's themed in an Aladdin/AliBaba style, with a genie and harem girls. Meanwhile, elsewhere, there is a woman named Amy Wolfe-Weber, who is a church organist. How do these two things relate? In probably the most disturbing way possible.

Amy has been having a "polygamous relationship" with the ride for the past decade. Apparently, she has a condition known as objectum sexuality which is when a person is unable to form a relationship with other human beings, so instead is attracted to items. So, I guess if you go to a bar and have no interest in anyone sitting there, but think the pool table is making eyes at you, you have a diagnosis.

Amongst her other, er, lovers, are spaceship models, the WTC, a railing, and her church organ. The last I find most disturbing and potentially the source of the most Sunday morning amusement. But the story just keeps getting weirder. Apparently, 1001 Nachts is such a catch that she decided to hold onto it. And so this past year she "married" the ride. She legally changed her name to "Weber" as it's the name of the maker of the ride, posted a picture of the ride on her ceiling, and sleeps with spare old nuts and bolts from the ride.

“I love him as much as women love their husbands and know we’ll be together forever.” Yes, that's right. Gondola rides are male. And this one is off the market.

Standing at the foot of the ride, the physics of the relationship baffle, although we did try to put some thought into the most sanitary place to sit. The knowledge that it's the only ride in the part no longer a bachelor makes the whole experience of watching nine year old kids race up the line and pick their seats downright creepy. Even the height sign at the bottom "rub my magic lamp" seems downright weird. Still, we all lined up just for the irony factor, so it isn't neccessarily bad for business.

If you're not completely creeped out already, I suggest you go to about 3:30 in the following video. Then take a shower. With Draino. Honestly, I have a high tolerance for just about everything and this is way way too much.

Glen Onoko

Beautiful destination and tourist trap shouldn't go hand in hand, but sometimes that's how it goes. As a fan of hiking and nature, you take what you can get.

Glen Onoko is the name of a series of hiking trails located at the Lehigh River Gap, in a state park. All the way up at the top of the mountain, there's a freezing cold natural spring which feeds a river which spills over full waterfalls, tumbling little gushes and huge wide wading areas. Climbing the mountain, each section of the river is more gorgeous than the last, and the top falls are a full 75 feet high. Through the summer, the area puts up a great show of flowers and foliage, and the river at the bottom is full of people swimming, kayaking and white water rafting. Along the way up, you'll come to a lot of areas where people wade, picnic and take breaks. There's also some notable rock formations, like Pulpit Rock, which is a huge standing stone split in two down the middle. Over the years, it's become a popular place for people to leave their name behind, and buried among the garish, recent graffiti, you can find small chilseled areas with dates back to the turn of the century, along with faux "Indian" carvings.

Of course, the fact that there's an astounding natural phenomena hiding in the hills wasn't enough for some people, so in the early twentieth century a railroad tourist promoter dreamed up an "ancient Indian legend" to apply to the place. Love stricken Indian princess, Indian Brave thrown off a cliff, and the weeping girl turned into a waterfall, yaddah yaddah. It's been so locally repeated that it exists in some history books and has sort of been grandfathered in as a pseudofact.

What is true is that there used to be a fantastic, secluded palace of a hotel at the base of the mountain (think The Shining), named Hotel Wahnetah, which opened in 1886. It was once the vacation resort of the rich and elite looking to escape the city. It featured 56 rooms, tennis courts, manicured stone lined mountain paths, and a dance pavillion. Essentially, you could relax in regal style, but claim you were "roughing it". Back then, the trail was a much easier climb--it was maintained with bridges spanning the water, making it the climb of the elite. The hotel burned to the ground in 1911, and the tourist industry has only recently started to recover.

What is also true is that the area is positively deadly. The trails sometimes snake upwards at a vicious angle, and a lot of the danger comes from climbers ahead of you who dislodge rocks that come plummeting down the hill picking up deadly speed. Through some areas, you can even find yourself climbing more with your hands and knees through the eroded trail, overused trail. Depending on your path, you walk up narrow areas with sheer drops to one side, and sometimes slick rocks. Invariably, you'll see some poor person who was expecting a civilized walking trail completely unprepared for the hike. I've personally sat at the bottom of the hill and watched people coming in on buses with brand new work out gear on (complete with tiny little leg weights), or alternatively wearing shorts and flip flops. Suffice it to say, they usually give up halfway up the mountain.

Before I seem flippant, let me point out that I was actually up the mountain with a hiking companion who fell off a cliff and had to be carried down the hill by a medical team and evacuated by helicopter. (Yes, I took a picture) I also personally know the families of several people who have lost their lives hiking around there. A misstep is easy to make even for good hikers and can have life long ramifications. Still, I stood with the EMTs as they told stories of unprepared hikers and their grievous injuries even as people walked around us completely unprepared for the hike. I sort of blame the tourist promoters.

All color photos taken by my sister, the Little Photographer who Could.

NAH NAH nah nah na na nah nah naah---

Every now and again I worry about my decision to try to do a daily blog featuring Pennsylvania oddities. Can I keep up with this for any period of time? I think.

And then the heavens open, the gods smile and I drive past Batman Road.

Here it is in Google Maps, in case you don't believe me. The best part is, Batman Road become Batman Drive further down.

This was literally the only sign for this street along the length--otherwise its unmarked because the signs were a high risk for theft. Definitely a sign I can see hanging over some college frat boys bed.

Sadly, Batman Road is mostly occupied by ranch houses, empty fields that have seen better days and citizens who don't appreciate 'why so serious' jokes. You know someone along there is so touchy about it they try to mispronounce the name when they give out their address. "Oh no, it's Batmin"