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Mystery Trains What primordial urge sends us hurtling groundward at speeds that would be illegal on an expressway? No one knows, but the new roller coasters satisfy it gloriously. MONEY picks a terrifying top 10.
By Marguerite T. Smith Reporter associate: Jennifer Stoffel

(MONEY Magazine) – If atheists are scarce in foxholes, I muse as we begin clanking up the 20- story-high steel mountain, they must be nearly as rare here. This climb up the first hill of the world's tallest, fastest roller coaster is supposed to take only half a minute. But it seems to last forever, as we leave the crowded midway below, clear the tops of the trees, then surpass even the smaller coasters nearby -- a ridiculous train of little white cars ascending toward the clouds on a scaffold of such impossible slenderness that it seems supported only by its passengers' prayers. ''You're white-knuckling already,'' a gentle voice whispers at my side. It is Paul Ruben, editor of RollerCoaster! magazine and probably one of the world's leading authorities on controlled terror. Embarrassed, I let go of the restraint bar across our seats. Ruben has been a splendid mixture of compassion and encouragement ever since I asked him to join me on my first ride on the Magnum XL-200, this spanking new monster at Cedar Point amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio. ''Look,'' he says, trying to distract me. ''You can see all the way to Cleveland -- 60 miles away!'' I have developed a sudden fascination for the tips of my shoes. But at Ruben's urging, I look up just long enough to catch a muddled glimpse of Lake Erie as we slip over the top and plummet toward the ground at more than 70 miles an hour, endure whipcrack turns, breathless plunges, fog-filled tunnels, strobe lights and several out- of-seat experiences. Finally, 2 1/2 minutes later, we glide smoothly back into the station like a space shuttle touching down for a landing. Abruptly I realize that, in lieu of the lap bar, I've been squeezing Ruben's arm as tightly as a tourniquet. But he's upbeat: ''Congratulations,'' he says. ''You have now joined the club of people who have dropped farther and faster on a roller coaster than was ever possible before.'' And me? I feel great. Unembarrassed. Giddy with accomplishment. Cleansed of fear (it's been shaken out of me). Better, in some ways, than I've ever felt before. It is a feeling that many are flocking to share. And this summer is a good time, because around the country it has been a season of superlatives for roller coasters. On April 15, the Great American Scream Machine made its debut at Six Flags Great Adventure in Jackson, N.J., capturing the title of the world's fastest (68 mph) and highest (173 feet) coaster, formerly held by Shock Wave (65 mph and 170 feet) at Six Flags Great America north of Chicago. But a scant three weeks later, Cedar Point's Magnum snatched the title away -- forcing the Scream Machine to bill itself as the world's highest and fastest looping coaster (the Magnum is a straight out-and-back ride, while the Scream Machine flips its victims through seven complete inversions). Meanwhile, at Dorney Park in Allentown, Pa., the 157-foot-high Hercules -- loopless, alas, but reaching speeds of 65 mph -- came clattering into the record books as the world's tallest wooden coaster. While Hercules, Magnum and the Scream Machine have pushed the envelope of the roller derby to Chuck Yeager territory, six other new coasters and three restored ones premiered this summer. And they are just the latest escalation in the roller war at amusement parks across the U.S. The number of major North American coasters is up 29% in the past decade to 190, according to Ruben, whose magazine goes to the 2,200 granite-stomached members of the American Coaster Enthusiasts (ACE). ''Every year I think it will slow down,'' he says, ''but they keep building new ones, so I'm happy.'' Cedar Point alone, which now has nine coasters, conveyed 13 million riders last year. What lures so many of us to such bone-chilling entertainment? Ralph Keyes, who profiled high-wire walker Philippe Petit and other thrill-seekers in his 1985 book Chancing It: Why We Take Risks, argues that the urge has roots in human evolution. ''It was barely yesterday that our ancestors were chased by mastodons,'' he says. ''The ones who survived took risks as a daily diet. So today when we don't get enough risk in our lives, we suffer from 'risk hunger.' That's when we ride roller coasters, buy motorcycles, learn to fly and have affairs.'' The thirst for apparent danger helps explain why many traditionalists still prefer the classic wood-scaffold roller coasters to the new all-steel designs, even though the latter provide higher speeds and dizzier acrobatics. ''The old woodies tend to be more thrilling,'' explains Dr. Richard Brown, chief of surgical research at St. Luke's Hospital in Cleveland and a biodynamics consultant to the amusement industry, ''if for no other reason than because ( they are more creaky and clankety.'' Advocates cite classics like the Coney Island Cyclone (60 mph, 91 feet high) in New York City and the twisting Riverside Cyclone (60 mph, 112 feet high) in Agawam, Mass., which Paul Ruben jokes ''must have been designed by a psychotic.'' But all-steel coasters have whizzed ahead of woodies, now making up some 57% of all coasters, vs. only 32% a decade ago. The driving force behind the heavy metal onslaught is a tiny company called Arrow Dynamics. Founded as a precision machine shop in 1946 in California (the company has since moved to Utah), Arrow built many of the original Disneyland rides and, in 1959, four years after the park opened, added the first truly modern all-steel coaster -- the Matterhorn Bobsled. Its tubular rails and nylon wheels, says coaster expert Robert Cartmell in The Incredible Scream Machine (Bowling Green State University Popular Press, $24.95 paperback), ''made just about any configuration possible on a roller coaster without straining riders' backs and necks.'' Among the pyrotechnics that Arrow and other builders have since devised: the loop (in which riders complete a 360 degrees revolution overhead); the corkscrew (a series of loops arranged in a helical pattern); the boomerang (a discombobulating double reversing loop); the pretzel twist (just like it sounds); and the ''suspended'' coaster (the cars hang from an overhead track). The latest, from Arrow president and chief designer Ron Toomer: the Pipeline, in which the train rotates so that the rider's heart travels in a straight line while his body circles around it. But don't look for Toomer to test drive it. ''I suffer from motion sickness,'' he explains, ''and my rides have gotten too wild and crazy for me.'' But are they safe? Absolutely, says Toomer: ''We pay a great deal of attention to the force that's applied to the rider to make sure no one will be thrown out of a car. We're very aware of safety, and we work hard on it.'' Designers and operators contend that most accidents are caused by horseplay or gross misjudgment on the part of the rider, as when a maintenance worker at Coney Island's Cyclone wriggled free of the safety bar and was thrown to his death last year while riding during his lunch hour. Fortunately, the odds of death -- even for the foolhardy -- are small. Since 1973, an average of only 1.5 people a year have been killed on North American coasters, despite the fact that the devices now provide more than 200 million ) rides annually. In fact, you are about six times more likely to perish in the crash of a domestic airliner (odds: 1 in 10.2 million per flight) than to die in an accident on any fixed amusement park ride (odds: 1 in 60 million per park visit). ''The park has a vested interest in making sure you come back safely,'' explains Dr. Brown, ''since you're a paying customer and you're riding an expensive machine.'' The danger, small as it may be, certainly didn't deter this summer's bumper crop of riders, especially at the 10 rides listed below that MONEY nominates as the greatest in North America based on height, speed and that indefinable element -- thrill. But we have two cautions for anyone who dares to ride them. Be prepared to stand in line for an hour or more on weekend afternoons for your three-minute fling (weekdays, early mornings and late nights are less crowded). And make sure you sit in the spot on the train that is right for you. Coaster buffs say the front car is best for the view and the feeling of floating down the track. The caboose is the wildest, like riding the tail of animal trainer Gunther Gebel-Williams' whip. And the middle car? ''That's like kissing your sister,'' scoffs ACE president Randy Geisler -- but it's also a bit of chastity that more sedate riders will appreciate. Herewith, in order from newest to oldest, our picks: Magnum XL-200, Cedar Point, Sandusky, Ohio. Height: 205 feet. Speed: 72 mph. The world's tallest and fastest coaster, the Magnum gives you a great view of Lake Erie before you hurtle over a long series of hills and through three tunnels filled with strobe lights, nontoxic smoke and synthesized sound. ''A truly world-class ride,'' says Geisler. Open daily through Sept. 4; weekends through September (419-627-2350). Admission: $18.50; children smaller than 48 inches tall $9.95; children age three or younger free. The Great American Scream Machine, Six Flags Great Adventure, Jackson, N.J. Height: 173 feet. Speed: 68 mph. The tallest and fastest of the looping coasters includes three vertical loops, one double corkscrew and two pretzel- shaped loops. ''I rode that thing four times and turned upside down 28 times,'' says coaster historian Cartmell. ''The first two rides were just glorious; by the fourth I wanted Dramamine.'' Open daily through Aug. 31, then selected weekends through October (201-928-2000 or 201-928-3500 for recorded information). Admission: $22; children less than 54 inches tall $14; children age three or younger free. ( Shockwave, Kings Dominion, Doswell, Va. Height: 95 feet. Speed: 50 mph. You ride this looping coaster standing up, harnessed two abreast in the cars. The first loop shoots you 66 feet off the ground; the second, banked at 80 degrees, sends you flying virtually parallel to the ground. RollerCoaster! 's Ruben suggests turning your head to the side during the initial loop to watch the horizon rotate. Open daily through Sept. 4, weekends through Oct. 14 (804-876-5000). Admission: $18.95; children age two or younger are free. The Mindbender, Canada Fantasyland, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Height: 145 feet. Speed: 55 mph. This triple-looping steel coaster is contained entirely in the West Edmonton Mall, permitting year-round operation and giving shopping an eerie quality with the screams of riders echoing off the walls. Open all year (403-444-5300). Admission $15.95; children age 10 and younger $13.50; children age two or younger free. The Big Bad Wolf, Busch Gardens, the Old Country, Williamsburg, Va. Height: 100 feet. Speed: 48 mph. A fine example of a suspended coaster: after the initial ascent, riders never see a track again as they plunge on a near crash into a faux-Bavarian village. ''One of my all-time favorites,'' says Lucy White of Jacksonville, Fla., who has ridden coasters for half a century and will admit only to being ''more than 70 years old.'' Open daily through Sept. 4, then Fridays through Tuesdays to Oct. 29 (804-253-3350 or 804-220-2896 for recorded information). Admission: $19.95; children age two or younger free. Riverside Cyclone, Riverside, Agawam, Mass. Height: 112 feet. Speed: 60 mph. A deluxe wooden twister, the Riverside Cyclone zooms from zero to 60 mph in three seconds, then banks into a 60 degrees turn. ''A white-knuckler,'' says Cartmell. Open daily through Sept. 4, then weekends through the end of September (413-786-9300). Admission: $14.95; children ages three to eight $10.95; children age two or younger free. The Beast, Kings Island amusement park, Kings Island, Ohio. Height: 141 feet. Speed: 64.77 mph. Celebrating its 10th anniversary this season, the Beast is the world's longest wooden coaster -- 7,400 feet -- and a ride on it takes nearly four minutes. The plunge through a wooded ravine is especially thrilling at night. ''It feels like you're going 1,000 mph,'' says Carl Eichelman, a computer operator for the Internal Revenue Service in Cincinnati who has ridden the Beast 4,350 times, give or take a few. Open daily through + Sept. 4, plus the weekend of Sept. 9 (513-398-5600). Admission: $18.95; children ages three through six $9.15; children age two or younger free. Revolution, Six Flags Magic Mountain, Valencia, Calif. Height: 113 feet. Speed: 55 mph. One of the nation's first loopers, the ''Rev'' is a Hollywood favorite, having appeared in such films as Roller Coaster and National Lampoon's Vacation. Open daily through Sept. 4; and weekends and holidays year round (805-255-4100 or 818-367-2271 for recorded information). Admission: $21; children under 48 inches $10; children two or younger free. Twister, Elitch Gardens, Denver, Colo. Height: 96 feet. Speed: 63 mph. A classic wood twister design built in 1964, this coaster gives a brief view of the Rocky Mountains at the top of the lift hill. Open daily through Sept. 4 (303-455-4771). Admission: $10.95; children under 52 inches $8.95; children age three or younger pay no admission but must pay for rides. The Cyclone, Astroland Park, New York City. Height: 91 feet. Speed: 60 mph. Not the longest, steepest or fastest coaster, this rumbling Coney Island classic built in 1927 is still the benchmark against which other wood- supported coasters are compared. ''This is what coaster riding is all about,'' says Ruben. Open daily through Sept. 10 (718-372-0275 for recorded information). Admission: $3 a ride; or $11.99 for a five-ride ticket.