August 17, 2003 - 4:23 AM

Phobia versus Philia

Paradox. Conundrum. Sticky Wicket. These world-altering situations confronted me two weeks ago when N, LDBL, DZ, and I ventured to Six Flags Hurricane Harbor.

I love thrill rides. Roller coasters, slingshots, huge slides, big drops; I dig those things. But I'm acrophobic. I have trouble looking down from tall ladders; I can't stand close to the edge of "safe" exposed staircases; I can't even lean against reinforced walls with windows looking down several stories. These opposing forces had a summit in which my welfare and sanity were discussed in the setting of greatest fear and excitment.

I have no problem riding roller coasters. My favorite ride is the freefall tower where the rider is dropped in a metal can down the side of a "j" shaped track. But my knees got weak and I white-knuckled the railings at the water park when we walked up the edifices that housed the various waterslide tubes and rides.

One story up, I was fine. Two stories, I was starting to worry. Three stories, I had to hug the inside wall and go hand over hand like a blind person with the railing. Four stories, we finally reached the line, and I sat down on the steps, scootching up backwards, one step at a time, as the line slowly moved upwards.

There were three different slides to choose from on this particular tower, one of which was a spectacular death plunge that arced out over the staircase. Every so often, some brave, not-so-smart soul could be heard screaming bloody murder as they were flumed off the slide, which of course did nothing for my nerves. LDBL was anxious to get wet and was fed up with waiting, so he sauntered up the stairs (on the outside portion which was reserved for the slide riders, whereas the inside portion was for the chicken line of enclosed tubers) and shortly thereafter threw himself off the top. A few minutes later, he came running up the staircase to rejoin us in line. We had moved 5 steps up during his whole escapade.

By the time the group reached the launching pad at the top, I was so nervous I was babbling. Oh, I forgot to mention that I was not wearing my glasses, having opted to leave them in the lockers, so my vision was quite fuzzy. But I still could see how close to death I was anytime I got near the edge of the stairs. Anyways, DZ and I got paired up to enter the tubes the curved and twisted and spiralled safely to the bottom; as the ride technician (who DZ informed me was a total babe)instructed us on the proper method of keeping our limbs intact, I blurted out the fact that I was blind without my glasses and deafened by the roar of the water. Whether or not she heard me, I'm not sure, as she merely signaled us to go, and whoosh we went. That ride was jolly good fun, helped immensely by the fact that I couldn't see a damn thing in the pitch blackness of the tube.

Over the course of the day, I had more bouts of acrophobia as we went up half a dozen more multi-story structures in the pursuit of more watery surges. Several times we came close to experiencing gravity's unfettered mortal draw while sluicing in inner tubes and rafts down half-pipes whose curves barely held us in their centripetal grips. One inner tube ride in another enclosed curving pipe resulted in my being turned around, falling out of my tube, scraping my knuckles as I struggled to right myself and get back IN my tube, all while still traveling in darkness down the pipe, and being dumped out backwards and upside down into the receiving pool at the bottom.

I wasn't able to conquer my fear of heights that day. I wasn't even able to confront it, really. A couple times, I looked out over the bannisters to the ground, only to pull back quickly while gasping for air. But mostly I focused my gaze at the step directly in front of me and zeroed my mind on the idea of survival. Someday, I'll be able to convince my dominant irrational mind that my rational "you're standing on a tested, welded, strong, safe structure and you WON'T DIE UNLESS YOU YOURSELF JUMP OFF YOU IDIOT!" mind is right. Until then, I'll continue to be willied out by step stools.

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