Montezuma's Revenge

Through a Google Search, I've discovered that Montezuma's Revenge is either Travelers Diarrhea or an Indiana Jones video game. Well, my story of Montezuma's Revenge is neither, but could possibly be the inspiration for both. It's also listed as a Bluegrass music group, a 24 hour ultra-endurance mountain bike wilderness race, and Wikipedia states that the term comes from...

Moctezuma (c. 1466 – June 1520), also known by a number of variant spellings including Montezuma, Moteuczoma, Motecuhzoma and referred to in full by early Nahuatl texts as Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin and similar, was the ninth tlatoani or ruler of Tenochtitlan, reigning from 1502 to 1520. It was during Moctezuma's reign that the episode known as the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire began.

Well wherever the term came from, it's Hell on wheels.

Knotts Berry Farm was the first place in the world I ever tried Chili Cheese Fries, now a staple in my weekly diet it seems. Mom had never heard of them before we moved to California, so we decided to try them out when we saw them on the menu. They were wonderful!! We ate every last bite. Shortly afterward, any fond memories I may have had of Knotts Berry Farm were quickly wiped out with the simple motions of one very nasty roller coaster and the harness that failed to do its job.

We all hear the horror stories around the world about something going wrong on a roller coaster. Some kid falls out of a Ferris wheel because he's screwing around, another teen gets his arm ripped off because he didn't listen when they said to keep hands and arms inside the car at all times. It happens. That's a fact. But we never think it will happen to someone we know, or to someone we're riding with, or even worse, to us.

Montezuma's Revenge, or at least the one I'm talking about, is a roller coaster at Knott's Berry Farm. We went there back when I was about 8 or 9 years old, so it was in the late 80's, about the time we first moved to California. Mom liked the looks of it, and I was still young enough to not be afraid of anything but Lima Beans, which I still don't like. She wanted to go on the ride, and she wanted me to go with her. Instantly I agreed.

It looked simple enough. It had a loop in the middle and two dead ends on either side. We watched as the roller coaster would back up one of the dead ends, then get a fast start at the loop. It would go up and over the loop, all the way to the other dead end, and then stop. It would then go backwards through the loop, all the way back to the first dead end, then coast back to its starting position. It even paused a little in the center of the loop. It looked like a lot of fun to us. We got in line and couldn't wait to get on board.

We climbed on and took our seats. Clearly I remember my mother being to my left. We were both so excited. The harnesses came down over us and locked in place. The coaster started to back up. My heart was racing. I was thrilled to be going on such an adventure ride with my own mother. There was a lot of room in my harness, but I didn't think much of it. I was always a really skinny kid. I met the height requirements, so they let me on. That was all that mattered.

The coaster backed up to the dead end and we hung there in silence waiting for it to release. I grabbed the handles on the outside of my harness, waiting for that weightless, silent release of the coaster surging forward. I looked at Mom by poking my head out of my harness and looking around at her. She grinned ear to ear. Suddenly the world began to move forward in slow motion.

The coaster released and I hung in mid-air for a moment, weightless and excited. It raced past the platform of waiting riders and reached for the sky. It flipped over and slowed down just at the top of the loop. All of this happened in seconds, but it felt like an eternity to me. Suddenly I started to slide in my seat. I looked up and saw the ground below us from my upside down position. I slid further, grabbing at my harness with every ounce of strength I could, screaming out for my mother to help me as I felt my shoulders slide right between the shoulder pieces of the harness. There was nothing holding me in but my weak childhood forearms. I remember screaming bloody murder for my Mom to help. She turned and looked at me. She knew from my voice instantly that something was wrong. She reached over for me and pulled with all her might. She's a terribly strong woman when angry or filled with adrenaline.

My body slid back between the shoulder harness pieces, though my butt was still far from the seat of the coaster. I brought my arms back inside the harness and pushed up on the shoulder pieces with every ounce of strength I had, though I still could feel myself sliding. The coaster moved forward again and I slammed forward into the harness on the way down. It screamed past the platform on its way to the other dead end, my mother screaming as loudly as we could for them to stop the ride. They didn't hear us.

We flew upward toward the other dead end, my mother openly praying to God to save her only daughter. I don't know if she remembers doing that. I remember her crying out and holding on to me, screaming as loud as she could "God, please save my child," as I clutched her with all my might. She never loosened her grip on me for even a second. In vain, she screamed out to stop the ride again and again. Tears streamed down both of our faces as I sat there in horror, knowing what was coming. As that weightless feeling came over us again, there were no smiles between us this time. There was nothing but pure horror written over both of our faces as we plunged backwards towards what could have easily been my death.

I've never had much upper body strength, even when I was in the best shape of my life. I've never been able to do a pull up, and to this day I don't know where my strength came from. I braced my knees under the bottom of the harness as we plummeted back towards the Earth. By the time we screamed bloody murder to stop the ride past the waiting crowds, I had braced my arms inside the harness, pushing hard on the shoulder catch to hold my body to the seat. I hunched over and gripped the heels of my feet under the tiny lip of the seat I was on. Mom grabbed my shoulder as much as she could and pushed down with every bit of strength she could manage.

We screamed backward up into the loop, slowing just as before near the top. Then the coaster came to a complete stop once more. Silence filled the air around us. My back began to slide down the seat.

My ankles throbbed from gripping the seat under me so tightly on the very small lip I could hook them to. Mom couldn't get a good grip on me and had to let go. She grabbed my shirt instead and pulled towards her with all her might. She screamed at me to hold on. My arms didn't have the strength they needed to keep me inside the harness. My legs slipped and my knees were no longer braced against the bottom of the harness. I began to slide more. My shoulders reached the harness and started to slip through. I bent at the waist, dangling my legs in front of me over the shoulder harness. I hung like a rag doll upside down in a roller coaster I was supposed to be tall enough to ride. My body swung, a pendulum in the breeze, any second capable of finding death.

"HANG ON, MANDA!" My mothers words echoed in my ears every time I saw a roller coaster for years after that. I hung on for dear life.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the coaster started to move again. My body slammed to the back of the seat and slid slowly down the hard plastic surface. My feet let gravity take them to the floor once again. Mom didn't loosen her grip on my shirt, but I was OK with that.

We reached the dead end behind us at long last, and Montezuma's Revenge coasted to the bottom. I was weak from fear and could barely stand up to get out, while my mother was so pumped up with adrenaline that she practically dragged me out of the coaster and towards the ride operator. She screamed and yelled in his face, though I have no idea what she said. That could have been the relief in me blocking out whatever she was saying, but something tells me he really didn't understand her words either. She was completely hysterical, screaming and crying.

She told me later on that the second I shouted out to her, she got an instant migraine. It was instinctive for her to grab on to me, knowing something was wrong. She and I both thought I was going to die that day. As far as we know, nothing was done with the harnesses on that ride for several years, until a teen in the 90's slipped through the harness and died.

For years I was terrified of roller coasters. Then it became coasters that went upside down. Eventually I got over that and have only been afraid of slow moving heights, like a Glass Elevator, or the slow incline of a roller coaster in the beginning. Now that I remember the story of Montezuma's Revenge clearly, I believe this is and always has been the source of my Glass Elevator fear.

Water Tempo

I was 19 before I got my driving license. I wasn't allowed to get one when I was still living at home, and when I turned 18 and moved away, I didn't have the time or the money to get it done. Instead I walked everywhere I went. I was married before I took the test and even got a permit.

My very first car was a 1993 Ford Tempo, manual transmittion with 4 speeds. I couldn't drive it. I just couldn't seem to understand how to shift and clutch and break and gas all at the same time. I was a miserable, frustrated failure when it came to learning how to drive a stick shift. There was just no way I was going to learn how to drive a stick shift well enough to take my driving test. One day, while trying to drive through town I stalled out at a stop sign in a jack rabbit formation in front of a police officer who immediately lit up the bubble gum roof topper and suspected me of drunk driving. I cried like a baby.

Finally, we sold the car and got a 1994 Ford Tempo with an automatic transmittion. I was much happier. It was a breeze, so easy to drive.

I couldn't get a job until I got my license, so I got out on the back country roads and practiced all the time, trying to master all of the rules of the road - except parallel parking. It wasn't required out in the country, and I really had nowhere to practice. I would beg to go into town just so I would have more chances to practice. When the day came and I took my test, I was so incredibly proud of myself. I got that slip of paper that said I was OK to get my license, and the very next day after I got it I started looking for a job.

I was hired on at a Shoney's in the neighboring town of Searcy (Pronounced Sir-see), Arkansas. It was a good 45 minute drive, but unless I wanted to work at the one gas station or the Rosebud Cafe, I was going to have to drive. I had been on the job a total of about 3 days when something happened that would forever change the pace of my heart beat when driving in the rain.


I was on my way in to work for my fourth day when it began raining gently. The dirt roads started to get thick and the dust wasn't flying up all over anymore. It was a rather welcome rain, since things had been so dry lately. White spots showed up on the hood of my white car, washing away the layers of dust one speck at a time. It took on the appearance of a tan and white dalmatian after a few minutes. I got out onto the paved road and started increasing my speed.

By the time I reached the Cleburne County / White County border, rain was coming down pretty steadily. I slowed my car a bit before driving down the hill with winding turns. I vividly remember looking at my speedometer and noticing I was down to only 35mph. I was fine with that... fog had begun to roll in. The back end of my car scooted to the left as I made a gradual right hand turn and I grimaced. I didn't know what to expect. I straightened it out and coasted down the hill a little more. As I went, the car gained speed. Worried about taking the turns too fast as a beginning driver, I tried to slow down a bit more. Cliffs plummeted to my left while a sheer rock cliff face loomed above me on the right. I felt like I was trapped. Suddenly my breathing became shallow. My car jumped again, this time to the right as I coasted toward the left, following the curve of the road.

I hadn't been driving very long. I'm not sure if I panicked or not, but I'm pretty sure I stayed fairly calm. I tried to do what I thought back then was right - I applied the breaks to slow down a bit. Suddenly my back tires began flipping me from one side to the next, the back of my car slapping like a fishes tail when being pursued by a shark. I felt helpless just then. All I could do was pray not to drive off the cliff on the left or to hit anyone in incoming traffic. I was terrified, but I held fast to the wheel and tried to guide it down the mountain.

The passenger side front bumper slammed into the mountainside to my right and the car stopped solid. Then, with the slick surface of the road coupled with the mud that had begun to wash down, the back end of my car pulled me backwards on the road as it swung wildly along side the cliff. Both of the wheels on the drivers side of my car slid up the side of the mountain with a little help from the mud and the whole car flipped over on the lid. From there I slid backward down a back country road in the middle of nowhere. I stopped after about 25 yards of praying like mad not to go off the cliff on the other side of the road.

The car slid to a stop and I reached up to turn off the engine. I had automatic windows though, and I thought clearly to myself that I needed to keep the car on at least until I rolled down the windows so I could shout for help. Once I got the windows down, I turned off the car, turned on my 4 way hazard lights, and tried to remove the keys from the motor. They wouldn't budge and no matter what I tried they wouldn't come out. All I could do was turn the motor off. That being accomplished, there was really nothing more I could do.

I hung upside down from the seat belt and tried to unbuckle the latch. I couldn't get it to release, so I decided to survey the damage instead. It was hard to see everything from my upside down position, and the longer I hung there the more I slid up the back of the seat. It was a slow process, thankfully. I had plenty of time to grab my apron from work and sweep the broken glass away from where my head would eventually end up on the ceiling.

A car pulled up and quickly found a spot to pull off the road not far away. They flagged down the next car and asked them to call 911, they weren't sure if I was injured and there was no cell phone coverage on that mountain. I shouted that I was fine, but my neck was starting to get a bit of a cramp. I asked if they had any scissors or toe nail clippers I could cut the seat belt off with, and they said that I should wait for the paramedics. I knew I was fine, I didn't need them - I just needed to get out of the car. I sighed, let my neck crane just a bit more until my ear was against the roof liner, and settled in to wait.

The passenger side window was shattered. That was where the majority of glass had come from on the roof of the car. The windshield was busted up pretty good too, but there was only a hole the size of a baseball in it. My glove box had popped open, but everything had stayed inside until the car had completely flipped. All of the contents had stayed neatly piled up in front of me, resting not far from my head. It was eerie, seeing my keys hanging upside down in front of me. Flipping a car was nothing like they had showed in the movies when I was growing up.

After about 45 minutes, the paramedics showed up. I really was out in the middle of nowhere. I had remained calm the entire time, but I was beginning to feel irritated. I wanted to get out of the car and my neck was getting very sore from the position it was craned in with my weight resting on it. When one reached in over me and couldn't get the seat belt undone, my instant internal reaction was "well duh, I've been here for 45 minutes, what do you think I've been trying to do all this time," but never said it. When another climbed in through the back seat to help, I started to feel relief. Finally help had arrived and I could get out of that horrible position. When the two of them couldn't get me out of the seat belt and I didn't see anyone else close by qualified or able to help, panic finally set in.

I didn't let it show, but claustrophobia suddenly grabbed hold of my guts deep inside and refused to lessen their grip. My breathing grew shallow and panicked. My hands grew sweaty. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see how confined I was just then with a strangers knees only inches from my nose as the rescuer reached across my body. Finally a third paramedic showed up from the back of the ambulance and went around to the passenger side of the car. He threw a jacket down on the glass and knelt down to help. The guy kneeling in front of me started to push my legs as hard as he could against the seat above me. The guy behind me did the same with my shoulders. The pressure on my neck eased, but I didn't go up at all. I desperately strained to turn my head, but the glass ground into my scalp and bit painfully into my flesh. My neck was driving me further into claustrophobic panic, and I held my breath. Finally, the paramedic reaching over from the passenger seat produced surgical scissors and began sawing away at the lap belt.

Everything happened fairly quickly then. I was lowered to my knees on top of a large blanket. I crawled out on my hands and knees and hugged the first neck I saw - the first paramedic to try assisting me. He was an elderly gentleman, I remember. He threw his arms around me and hugged me right back. Cheers went up, and that's when I realized there was an audience of no fewer than 100 people watching the rescue on the side of the mountain down a back country road.

When the police came to investigate the crash later, they told me how lucky I was. They told me that there was no way I would have crashed unless I was doing over 100 miles an hour. I told them they were full of $#!& but they didn't like that too much. By the time everything was said and done, they gave me a ticket for driving off the road.

I totaled the car and had to quit my job until I got another mode of transportation. Still, I refused to go anywhere with anyone until I went in to Shoney's to explain what had happened. I was dedicated.

To this day I get nervous driving in the rain. I mainly drive small cars, and they all fishtail easily on slick roads, but living in California I normally don't have to worry about that.

Normally.