Water Slide Deja'vu

The first time Tomcat and I were up in this area I had an incredible sense of deja'vu. We had been to Canada and were just driving down the coast, checking out the enormous homes of pretentious Semiahmoo and then the transitioning cottages of Birch Bay Village. When we turned a corner and drove past the Birch Bay Water Slides, my insides flip-flopped and it finally donned on me.

When I was 12, 13 and 14-ish, I used to spend the summer with my grandparents up in Snohomish, WA and we'd tool around in their 5th wheel. All my experiences of these times are jumbled into one great memory of freedom and beauty in the Pacific Northwest. It was NOTHING like Texas and I relished my time here. We'd go up to Canada to buy 222s and I couldn't believe that people would put out flowers for sale with a tin cup and operate on the honor system. I wanted to stop every time we passed one just to see how much money the family had made. Grams and I would lie in bed at night reading to each other from the same book. Neither of us can remember the best one -- it was the longest book I'd ever read to date, going through 4 or 5 generations of a particular family. We were hooked and still talk about how good it was!

There were two highlights of these summers, however. Square dancing and water slides. I square danced a little, but mostly, I ran free, making friends with other kids in the RV parks, coveting all the hand-made windsocks (made from beer cans and other inappropriate materials for me at the time). Or, I'd get dropped off at the water slides by myself and spend the entire day. I met so many interesting kids. Well, as Tomcat and I drove past, it occurred to me that this was the place. I called Grams immediately to tell her where I was. She validated my thrill, cleared up some details and I vowed to bring my kids here as soon as they were old enough.

Voila! They're old enough.

We woke up to cloudy weather, grrrr! Wind, arrrgh. Who cares? We went to the water slides anyway. The bright side was that it wasn't crowded. But we quickly learned that each kid required a personal assistant. None of them would go alone. Hallelujah, Grandma. First of all, she was considered a "senior observer" and only cost $4. Second of all, she sat with one kid the entire time as we rotated. That way each kid got 2 slides followed by a break. This also meant that neither Tomcat or CurlyTop ever got to sit down!

Nausea hit hard after cycling through a few times and I was seriously thinking about Dramamine. Am I really that old? Then, I realized I could just eliminate the Corkscrew and Twister from the rotation, and do the lightning fast Snake and Hairpin. Staring at the horizon on my way up the stairs, I started to recover and never actually threw up.

I heard Peanut and Little Man talking to each other, "I'm never ever ever going down that black one over there." I followed their gaze to a separate section with 2 slides. A shock wave went through me and I went weak at the knees. My body remembered its first and only enema.

I remember the summer the 60' Hydrodrop Speed Slide was built. You have to climb to the moon, step in, lie down flat on your back with your legs and arms crossed and your head tucked to your chest. In about 4 seconds flat you are thrown off a waterfall, or so it seems, free falling until finally finally you hit the bottom at full speed, while gallons upon gallons of rushing water surge up your ass. That is, if you're the adolescent me, and you didn't keep your legs crossed "all the way down until you come to a complete stop." I've been through natural childbirth 3 times and some other really nasty pain, and never have I had that kind of feeling. Surely some of you know what I'm talking about.

Now then, staring at the Hydrodrop, I just had to do it again as a grown-up. We gave the kids one last turn to slide, and then brought them over to the fence to watch their parents go down the black slide. It's been a long, long time since I've actually been scared to do something and I was seriously scared. I concentrated on my breath, and reminded myself that I wanted the kids to see me do something that frightened me, and come out all right. Please, God, let me come out all right. To be clear, I was all right. But somehow I flipped over onto my belly at the bottom and my swimsuit came (almost) completely off. I managed to get up, but I was one heart-palpitating, cellulite-wobbling woman and I could barely walk. Tomcat took me in his arms and I saw some teenagers point at me and mouth a romantic "ahhh", while I pulled myself together. My butt hurt like hell -- this time from squeezing my legs so tightly together.