8/16/98

A `Giant' Return

After a yearlong hiatus for repairs, Mammoth Park's Giant Slide reopens for those brave enough to handle its 96-foot drop

By Genna McLaughlin

TRIBUNE-REVIEW

Standing at the top, looking down the 96-foot drop evokes little fear or hesitation.

Even for a cautious individual the curving metal that dips down the hill looks harmless.

Sliding boards are made for kids, for childhood's sunny afternoons. They are toys for an energetic enjoyment, not tools for a maverick's adrenaline rush.

Everybody knows the risks.

The rickety metal stepladder that looks so threatening from the ground. Cooked metal that burns through protective pants or towels used as seats.

Not on this slide.

Wide, wooden steps set firmly in the dirt hill gradually wind up to the top.

Full trees shade the reflective metal, keeping it cool.

That's probably why first-timers jump on eagerly, legs relaxed and straight, arms lying limp on their laps.

The realization doesn't hit until shortly after push-off, after it's too late to turn back, after the first tenth of a second when body speed goes beyond comfortable, so fast that the black rubber-covered sides burn the skin at any attempt to stop, and the last rational thought (``That kid in front of me was nuts'') leaves and mindless panic takes its place.

The speed increases, even without the wax paper some use, and the dip flies by so quickly it's only registered by the rapid heartbeat in the left big toe, and the only thought is stopping before, not after, the slide ends at the firm foam-like platform at the bottom.

Miraculously, it happens. Without much warning the motion stops. Feet dangle over the edge. A second to put them down and raise up off the slide before the next daredevil in line pushes off 96 feet above.

Walking away from the Giant Slide at Mammoth Park, along grass worn thin from all the use over the last 25 years, the heart still racing from the ride, the only sound heard is the laughter and the whoops from kids of all ages tempting fate and plummeting down the silver ride that reopened July 4 after being closed for repairs for almost a year.

And somewhere, deep down (very deep), is the desire to ride it again.

S.C. Spangler photos