For two years running, our good friends and neighbors Donald and Ann have taken Alden and Kato to Dutch Wonderland, a kid-themed amusement park in Lancaster, PA.

To listen to the kids report back on their days there, being in Dutch Wonderland is like spending the day in Heaven. Heaven with roller coasters.

Robbi and I have, of course, been curious, but the Dutch Wonderland trip has been the kids’ special outing with Donald and Ann, and so we have had to experience the wonders vicariously.

This year, however, we were invited to come along. And, of course, we jumped at the opportunity.

Much to my surprise, Lancaster is not so far away, just a pleasant 77 mile journey through Pennsylvania countryside that happens to take two hours on account of the winding farm roads that account for the final third of the trip.

If you have never been to Dutch Wonderland, just close your eyes and imagine your wildest fantasies realized.

There are knights. There are princesses. There are dragons.

And there are strict height requirements (and resulting color-coded categories) that determine one’s fate for the day. Since last summer, Alden had inched her way into the amber category and Kato into emerald. August, who was making his debut appearance at Dutch wonderland, seemed unfazed by the indignity of being relegated to the under-three-foot category, the name of which I will not even mention in an attempt to match his silent shame.

Even the untouchables were allowed to enjoy themselves however. Whether riding monster trucks…

…or bulldozers…

…complete with functional, plow-lifting handles…

…and cheerful flying pandas.

Given the variety of mechanical distractions, I was somewhat surprised at the glee the boys took in this simple maze, the elastic walls of which created a fun surface against which to hurl one’s body.

While Alden and Robbi took in the more adventurous rides for the more vertically fortunate, Kato, Augie, and I did our best to seek thrills wherever possible.

And so we stood in the very long line for the Double Dip Flume, biding our time by gazing with excitement and trepidation at the tall watery mountain we soon would be climbing.

When the thrill of anticipation wore off, we bided our time by making ridiculous faces.

Eventually, we came to the front of the line. There were three of us, so we followed the directions and sat up front.

The ride began, and we climbed up that steep, steep slope.

And came thundering down the other side. Oh, but it was very exciting.

After the water ride, we met up with our good friends Christian and Emily and their three small children. Iris, their eldest, rivals Alden in the plasticity of her face and her willingness to show it off.

If you had told Christian and me when we were college sophomores and roommates back in the fall of 1994 that we would one day be riding a roller coaster with our six-year-old daughters at Dutch Wonderland, I probably wouldn’t have had such a hard time believing you.

This is exactly the sort of thing I hoped would happen in my life. Keeping in touch with good friends and writing new chapters of our lives together.

Dutch Wonderland has many modern distractions, but it does remain grounded in certain Amish fundamentals.

Such as an extraordinarily tall tower that a man dressed as a frog climbed and then did a twisting back flip from the very top of.

 

Into a deep pool of water, mind you, but boy howdy was it a long fall.

The leap was part of a water show that I did not attend but which Robbi declared to be extremely entertaining.

Which is to say, Dutch Wonderland has something for 34″ tall two-year-olds and voyeuristic 38-year-old thrill seeking illustrators alike.

Alden and Iris braved the Fun Slide.

And had such a good time that Kato and I were inspired to do the same.

Augie, ever the traditionalist, claimed his favorite ride was the carousel.

Alden, too, saw the virtues of gently bobbing plastic horses.

And Iris.

Kato? Kato keeps it real by salting every occasion with a healthy dose of skepticism. Kato reminds us all that any glass that is 7/8 full is actually 1/8 empty.

I ended the day on the flying trapeze, a grand ride for which my boys were ineligible.

I admired its long chains, is throwback typography, and the fact that it offered a place to sit down.

Spinning around and around reminds me that I am rapidly approaching 40 and that my inner ear is no longer a garden of resilience.

I remember a trip to Hershey Park when I was very young, perhaps not much older than Alden. There was a ride that spun you around so fast that you stuck to the wall. And then the floor dropped away. I loved it. I thought it was the greatest. I did it four times in a row. And I have never been the same since that day.

Perhaps in some small way my children have been similarly changed in indelible ways by the wonder of Dutch Wonderland.

Alden is already talking about our next trip. No matter that it’s still a year away. No matter that she’s unable to make it to Sapphire by next year.