Ligonier, Pennsylvania – Friday, June 6th, 2008
Our arrival at the Idlewild parking gates came with a rather dispiriting greeting informing us that a sum total of three rides were not yet ready for the season: the Wild Mouse, Flying Ace flying scooters, and the Whip. When asked the attendant kindly explained that they were waiting for a replacement part to arrive as part of their off-season maintenance, but it was likely to open in the next day or two. Alas, once inside it seemed the best plan of action would be to not rush things, making the first attraction of the day a leisurely stroll up to their Eli Bridge Ferris Wheel, where hopes of getting a bird’s eye view of the park were quickly dashed when it became apparent just how well forested Idlewild is. Even more so than Knoebels, Idlewild is one of those parks that if you didn’t see signs for it you would probably never know existed even if you drove right by it, or flew right over it. Everywhere we looked there is verdant greenery shading us from the sun overhead, and in fact before we found the Ferris wheel we were slightly uncertain if the park
was even still here or if it had all been converted to picnic benches. One unique feature to Idlewild is the fact that there’s no main entrance. The grass parking lots line the southeastern side of the park and you basically enter the midway at whatever point you happen to park your car closest to.
Moving down the midway into the Olde Idlewild section of the park we found a number of classic flat rides such as a Spider, Tilt-a-Whirl, Paratrooper, Scrambler and Skooters bumper cars, all scattered between
long rows of white picket fences, gazebos, and of course, a lot of foliage. The ride that earned my attention however was the Caterpillar, a classic 1947-built predecessor of high-speed circular rides like the Himalaya that still has a working canopy that unravels over the cars during the middle of the cycle, creating a nifty tunnel effect for those in the seats and crafting the appearance of a moving caterpillar for those off-ride. Definitely one of the park’s must-rides should you ever find yourself in Ligonier.
Good news, as we approached the silent Wild Mouse and Flying Ace near the end of the Olde Idlewild midway we found signs claiming that the attractions would open later that afternoon at 3:00pm. While we were still a bit skeptical about whether this would actually come true or not, it at least meant we were able to enjoy a mini-marathon on Idlewild’s most famous attraction, the Rollo Coaster, just that little bit more. Only one three-car, twelve-passenger train rolls on this coaster’s track (the other is set aside on a transfer track in the station), but at 11:00am this was still plenty to ensure that minimal if not no waiting for the next dispatch would be necessary. It also helps that the loading procedures are extremely quick, there being no need for air gates, seatbelts, or indeed any moveable parts anywhere on the train or in
the station, save of course for the giant lever controlling the skid friction brakes.
This coaster has drawn many comparisons to a miniature, classic version of Lake Compounce’s Boulder Dash, and I suppose that comparison is an apt one. The layout follows along a natural hillside in a curving out-and-back formation, the way out where the heaviest terrain interaction is featured while the way back has a nice series of bunny hops along the midway. Both attractions are also heavily enhanced by the many trees growing within inches of the ride’s support system; supposedly when it was originally built in 1938 much of the lumber came from trees cleared
on the property to make room for the layout. Presumably by now
much of that lumber has been replaced but it perfectly illustrates the rustic appeal of the ride nevertheless.
The train curls out of the station and around a curve to the main lift hill, which supposedly only stands 27 feet tall, but I’m not sure if that’s including the height differential of the hillside or not. It begins the action with a short straight drop to the ground on the upper level
of the hillside, followed by another gentle hill with a righthand
curvature over the crest. If the absence of any restraining devices didn’t already tip you off, don’t be expecting much airtime on these hills, which are still thrilling enough for their own virtues. There’s a small bump into the third hill, and the excitement kicks up a notch with a fast, curving double drop down the hillside where
the three-car train also reaches its maximum speed. By the way, what I just said about there not being any airtime… that’s not a completely true statement when considering this second dip from the third car. (Have fun!)
Following a sharp curve the layout gentle rises back up the hillside along one of the parking lots, the brief metallic clink of anti-rollbacks signaling the midpoint lull before the turnaround and the return run. The turnaround starts slow at the top before sweeping the rest of the way back down the shallow hillside, straightening out alongside the pathway on the lower level. The remaining
four bunny hops that finish the layout are all fairly mild in nature, but the miniature scale manages to keep the things slightly sprightly. Scooting past another thicket of trees, the cars curl around a last small curve into the friction skid brakes, stopping directly in the unload platform. We get off and hurry back around to the entrance to do it again.
While Idlewild might be classified by most as a ‘small park’, walking beyond the boundaries of the Olde Idlewild section where most of the mechanical rides are located will reveal a park that one could spend an entire day traversing and still probably not locate every footpath. The geographical area is probably similar in size to many large regional theme parks, only instead of rides
there are playgrounds, shops, picnic areas, rivers… and of course, trees. It would probably take at least twenty minutes to a half hour to directly walk from the water park on the eastern side of the property over to the far end of Storybook Forest on the western end. Also in the park are Jumpin’ Jungle, a large playground complex, Raccoon Lagoon, a children’s ride area, and Mister Roger’s Neighborhood of Make-Believe, the latter two found across the Loyalhanna Creek which we didn’t even get around to exploring.
The largest section of the park is known as “Hootin’ Holler”, which is across a small creek from Olde Idlewild and has a sort of rustic mine theme to it, and one can’t be entirely sure if this is an attempt at themeing or simply the real deal.
I’ll assume it’s a combination of both. There are only two mechanical rides here at present, one is a Wisdom Tornado flat ride called the Howler, which we didn’t do. Another is Paul Bunyan’s Loggin’ Toboggan, a Hopkins log flume which I believe is quite newly installed (judging from the fresh-cut appearance of the timber used to built the station). This had the longest wait of the day at a little over ten minutes, which was more than enough time to get the Paul Bunyan tune trapped in my head. The flume was unfortunately very short and small, but one senses this is an impressive accomplishment for Idlewild regardless. There’s a short section of meandering, ground level trough out of the station, turning around directly into a conveyor-belt lift and then the splashdown, which predictably is not very soaking.
The real stars of Hootin’ Holler however are Confusion Hill and Dizzy Lizzy’s, the former a house of illusions and the latter a Mad House style ride which appeared to be made in-house. This was my first ever Mad House experience and as such it will probably be my most memorable and effective; once my brain had adjusted to the illusion once it would never work as well on similar Mad Houses around the world. I suppose I shall have to return one day and test if Dizzy Lizzy’s still compares favorably to the more elaborate theme park counterparts.
We returned to Olde Idlewild to sample more rides and wait for the opening of the Wild Mouse and Flying Aces. The Wild Mouse had previously been seen testing briefly,
but when we returned we were very disappointed that the ride was once again silent and someone had switched out the sign for one flatly informing us that it would not be open today. Perhaps this was to focus their effort on at least getting the Flying Aces ready for the afternoon, as after a lot of testing they sent a small army of staff to wash and scrub down each of the tubs before they opened it for the season. We hung around but it appeared it was going to take awhile before being completely cleared for public operation, and as neither one of us needed to do a flying scooters that much (a much better version was awaiting me at Knoebels later that week anyway) we decided to head out early for lunch and a nap in our hotel before starting the second evening at Kennywood.
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