Topic: Cleaning

I’ve never been sold on the city of Cleveland. Despite having family there and regularly visiting the Geauga Lake Amusement Park in the outskirts of nearby Aurora as a child, the near mention of Cleveland made my body heave a distinct sigh. You know, one of those "ugh, we have to go back to Cleveland?" kind of sighs. If you’ve spent any time in Ohio (or have any understanding of the words ‘King’s Island’ or ‘Cedar Point’), you probably understand my dismay.

Needless to say, I stayed the hell away from that godforsaken city until October 2014. 

I had visited the abandoned Six Flags New Orleans that summer and I was hooked. After consulting the Wikipedia page for America’s defunct and closed amusement parks, I set my sights on two targets: First up: Geauga Lake. The park I had roamed as a child had been sold to the Six Flags enterprise years prior as they sought world domination - or at least a stronghold on the thrill seekers of Midwest America. It was later abandoned because, as it turns out, the nearby city of Cleveland was in such dire straights that most couldn’t afford admission to the newly expanded park, let alone the season passes required to keep it in business. It was decided that, after exploring Geagua Lake, we would try our hand at locating Chippewa Lake Amusement Park, an amusement park from the early 1900s that was reportedly long abandoned and possibly demolished. It happened to be on our drive home. 

The morning after our late night drive to the outskirts of Cleveland, we made our way to Aurora and the promise of Geauga Lake. Affer camouflaging the car by parking in the lot of a nearby Target, we departed on foot in the alleged direction of our destination. Or so we thought. We had a general understanding of the location of the abandoned amusement park - and a very real awareness of the still active water park located on its grounds - however, there was little else to go on. Still, I figured it wouldn't be difficult to find. With the addition of a Sea World park in 1970 and $40 million in renovations in 2000, the rebranded 700 acre Six Flags World of Adventure had gained notoriety as the world's largest amusement park.

“Are we sure we're going the right way?” I asked, glaring down at my feet with the absolute certainty that I had worn the wrong shoes. Apparently, Candies lace-up boots circa the Kohls’ Christmas sale had been a bad move, a fact that I realized just as the ground moisture began to seep through the faux leather and into my socks. We were far enough into the woods that the earth was covered with a thick coating of moss and there wasn't much of a path to follow. It was rough terrain, to say the least. 

"I have no idea. I assume that if we go this way for long enough, we should walk right into the middle of it." 

That seemed reasonable. We continued on. It was a beautiful day for October. Just chilly enough for jeans and a sweater, but without the need for a heavy coat. The leaves in the trees were changing colors, painting a vivid landscape before us. At least this hike through the woods is pretty, I thought, snapping a picture. It wasn't long before we made it through the trees and to a paved road. That road led to the Six Flags parking lot, a monstrous slab of asphalt we knew better than to walk directly through. Sticking to the edges of the woods, we tried to remain out of sight, following the road until it led somewhere promising: the main gate and ticket window. It was incredible. Aside from the grass and weeds poking through the concrete and the smashed windows of the ticket booths, it looked exactly as I remembered it as a child. The tall pillars and a large archway that once welcomed visitors to the park were now surrounded by a rather tall fence with sharp metal bits protruding at the top. 

We quickly noticed that the ticket booth was not enclosed in the fence and spent a fair amount of time taking pictures of the broken windows and old wooden structure. As we peered through the main gate of the park, we were astounded to see... nothing. No rollercoasters. No shops. In fact, there were no structures of any kind. I had heard rumors that Six Flags had sold off every possible thing they could when the closed the park, but I hadn't anticipated that it would ALL be gone. After looking around for a few minutes, we noticed one remaining rollercoaster in the distance. The Big Dipper. Too old to transport to another park, it had survived the mass exodus, the only thing in the park that hadn't been sold. The wooden structure was simple, with one large hill (or big dip) and a narrow winding track. Nature had done its job, though, and the entire thing was surrounded by thick overgrowth. 

"Do you want to check it out?" Jake asked. 

"Sure, if we can find a way in." 

"Let's follow this fence and see if there are any holes." 

The large iron fence was at least six feet, if not taller with its metal spikes, and it was well maintained. It was clear that others had gotten in, and that someone had immediately sealed up the holes with new pieces of fence and solid chain. This was going to be tough. Finally, we made it to a clearing and a loose bit of fence. Sticking my camera lens through the bars, I snapped a few pictures of the legendary coaster. Then I went to work investigating the fence. I knelt down next to a section and tried shaking the bottom where it met the fence post. It gave a little, then stubbornly fell back into place. As I struggled to push the fence open wide enough to squeeze an arm through, I leaned back and hit the top of my head on a broken tree branch. Awesome, I thought, Just awesome. 

"You find anything?" Jake asked, and I stood to meet him. 

"No. The fence will move, but not enough to get through." I touched my hand to rub the spot where I had hit my head, surprised when I saw that my fingers were covered in blood. "That's not good." 

"What did you do?" 

"Stood up underneath a tree wrong, I guess." 

"Are you trying to go over this fence?" 

"That doesn't seem feasible or pleasant, and there's nothing in there except that coaster. Wanna call it?" 

"Sure. Let's go try to find the other one." 

With that, we headed back to the car and the Target parking lot. Every few minutes, I touched my hand to my head, and each time, I came back with bloody fingers. Leaving Jake in the car, I walked as quickly as possible into Target, making a beeline for the bathroom. I hadn't anticipated spending ten minutes cleaning blood out of my hair as a gaggle of old ladies watched. I applied wet paper towel after wet paper towel until the bleeding ceased, smiled awkwardly at the group of old women, jipped my hoodie up to my chin, and headed back to the car to join Jake for the next adventure.