Hot Point

Yesterday the Webners went to Cedar Point.  It was by far the hottest day of the year– until today, that is.  It was brain-fryingly, stunningly, breathtakingly, ridiculously hot.

How hot was it?

It was so hot that even the coolest, skinniest people were bathed in that red-faced, sweaty glow that the more corpulent among us know so well.

It was so hot that a teenage girl waiting for Top Thrill Dragster collapsed from dehydration, causing friendly people in line to pass her their water bottles so she could try to rehydrate.

It was so hot that every shirt on every visitor was dappled with salt stains and sweat was running freely down people’s legs.

It was so hot that, even in the America where people crowd up to make sure they maintain their place in line, people hung back to avoid the portions of the ride lines that were in direct sunlight, allowing big gaps to form — without anyone complaining or trying to cut in line.

It was so hot that the cold water that was selling for the outrageous price of more than $3 a bottle seemed like a bargain.

It was so hot that even the misting machines didn’t do much other than add a layer of warm water atop the layer of sweat covering every inch of skin.

It was so hot that, after four hours and only three rides, we just couldn’t take it anymore and decided to hit the road — and felt good about the decision.

We got to ride the Millennium Force, the Gemini, and the Magnum, and had some terrible luck when, after waiting in line for more than an hour, the Top Thrill Dragster ride broke down just as we were on the ramp to the loading zone.  We waited for 15 minutes in the broiling direct sunlight, without getting any indication about how long the repair work might take, and then decided to throw in the (sweat-soaked) towel and get the heck out of there. 

I like sunshine, but a temperature of around 100 degrees coupled with extreme mugginess is no fun.

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