"Aftershock" not for the faint of heart

[This is a column on the Alaska State Fair by Frontiersman reporter Tim Rockey. What follows includes a healthy dose of sarcasm. You have been warned.]

Among my favorite places I’ve been able to call my ‘office’ as a reporter for the Mat-Su Valley Frontiersman has been the Alaska State Fair. I’ve been lucky enough to be able to be on the clock during my annual romp through Fair food and was deprived of that opportunity when the Fair decided to cancel last year for the first time since 1942. Excitement this year for the fair is higher than ever as Alaskans anticipate returning to the fairgrounds in Palmer for their favorite rides, food, livestock and vegetables.

Now, Alaska State Fair Marketing and Communications Manager MK Keefe and I have been friends for over a decade, but we are not on speaking terms right now. Part of my duties as a Frontiersman reporter brought me to the first demonstration of the Fair’s new roller coaster, “Aftershock” on Tuesday. I have never really been a fan of big, fast, scary roller coasters but I figured it would be a relaxed, fun opportunity to get some scenic pictures of the new attraction and spread the word to eager fairgoers about the new ride debuting this year.

Boy howdy, was I not prepared for what happened next. I was fastened into a car with one other reporter and marveled at the spectacular views of the Chugach and Talkeetna Mountains atop the initial climb of the roller coaster. I had my camera and phone recording out away from my body, which was my first mistake.

I am employed to report the news and not give advice; but I would suggest that anyone with young children who want to ride the tall, fast, scary roller coaster that all the ear-splitting screams are coming from have a serious discussion with said child. Lower your voice and ask them if they’re sure they can handle it. That way, you can tell them you told them so once they get off the ride.

Following the leisurely, relaxed climb up the initial track, I got a harsh dose of reality. The car spun around a corner and dropped off what felt to be a very large cliff before immediately climbing back up to the top of the frame and turning at an alarming rate. I lost my hat. I lost my pen. I said a number of words that I shouldn’t have. I nearly lost the Frontiersman’s camera, my phone, and my lunch in the span of about two seconds. There was a moment that I was certain I would plunge over the rail to my death.

Don’t get me wrong, I am ecstatic to get back to the Fair. It’s one of the times when Alaska and Palmer really get to show off. The views atop the “Aftershock” are spectacular and definitely worth the price of admission, but I have no intentions of ever stepping foot on that fear machine again. It scared the living daylights out of me, and I was very quickly made very unhappy that riding a roller coaster had suddenly become “my job.”

I’m convinced that people will love this ride, somehow. I am certain that I will see someone get a great photo at the top of the ride that eluded me. But if you find yourself at the Fair over the coming weeks and wonder what the new roller coaster is like, my advice is that you simply don’t. While it may be exciting, it may very quickly leave you asking a lot of questions of yourself. Don’t do that, asking questions is our job.

Not holding on for dear life... Thanks, MK.