I'm not a big fan of amusement parks. This isn't to say I would never go to one again, they're just not my cup of tea. I feel like I'm not letting myself get a full experience of the place, which is my own doing of course. Outside of the food and random test-your-skill games, I don't really do anything other than people watch and wishing I was just sitting in solitude somewhere, gnawing on a big ol' turkey leg or deep-fried something or other. My first experience on a roller coaster was at the Great Escape in Lake George, New York. I was seventeen, on some dumb end of the school year field trip. The name of the roller coaster was either the Screamin' Demon, Steamin' Demon, or Steaming Pile of Demon Crap. I'm sure it's still there, because who doesn't love coasters that have withstood roughly thirty brutal winters. At the time it was the biggest roller coaster in the park, so naturally to impress some girl I decided to wait in line for a...