• Oct. 27, 2009
Waterslide Challenge
Waterslide Challenge
by Cassie
by Cassie
It was a mild summer morning at Lake Chelan, Washington, a favorite vacation spot of my family’s. Inside the 1970s vintage blue condo where we stayed each visit, everyone was busy getting ready for a day at the water slides. Everyone, that is, except for two certain little girls who had already slapped their bathing suits on under their clothes and were waiting impatiently to leave. Those little girls were my sister, Jill, and I, aged three and four.
It was my first time going to a water park, and I didn’t know what to expect. Would the slides be ginormous and terrifying, or would some be docile and at least tolerable? Until I entered the gates of the park, I was totally clueless to how the day would turn out. An atmosphere of carefree playfulness greeted me. It instantly had me enlivened. Kids all around were laughing with delight, rushing to be the next in line for a speedy and vigorous trip down the water slides.
Passing this scene, Jill and I followed Mom to the kiddie area. Spread out before me was a large, shallow impression filled with a foot or two of cold, chlorinated water. This wading pool was complete with some cute springy toys and a fountain of water, but the real focal point was a pair of whimsical slides, just my size! The first took the form of a friendly pink dinosaur with yellow polka dots scattered down its back. A larger slide, which was a slippery green frog, crouched on my right and seemed to taunt me with his protruding tongue. He looked close to formidable with his big bulging eyes staring at nothing. Intimidated, I went to introduce myself to Mr. Dinosaur first.
Sliding down the dinosaur's smooth, wet tail was fun for a while, but I soon lost interest. For a change, I determinedly set out to confront that insolent toad. As I sat in the mouth of the beast, my pluck vanished, but sheer will pushed me forward the one inch I needed to slip down. What a feeling! Besides conquering my fear and reluctance, I had discovered a thrill I had not know before! This made me eager to try more slides outside the small scale of the familiar kiddie zone.
I agreed to go with my dad on a few trips down one of the white slides I had seen the lively kids line up for. My nervousness of going down the “big kid” slide was lessened as I was tucked safely in Dad’s lap the whole way down. It was a brand new sensation and I was drinking up the gleefulness in every second of it. Unfortunately, a dad’s lap is available for only so long. Since I had nowhere else to go, It was back to the kiddie pool for me.
I was not a baby and I was getting tired of the now disdainfully small slides in the kiddie area; I needed a change in scenery. My chance for another ride came when Mom invited me to go on a good-sized slide with her. There I was, sitting at the top of the steep slope, about to push off. Seeing the water churn below made me fidgety, but it was too late to change my mind! Panicking, I hit the water going full speed. The butterflies in my stomach were making such a ruckus that I had forgotten to hold my breath! My nose was waterlogged and I was just miserable. I was sure that everyone was having a good time but me, especially Jill.
Jill had always been the brave one. Distressed, I returned once again to the "baby" slides, while Dad took her on a slide farther up the hill. It was so far up that I couldn't even see where they went; as I saw it my choices were to either stay at the wading pool and be bored to tears, or risk drowning again by going after my dad. Sadly, my fear of taking risks depressed my appetite for thrills. Being cautious should have a limit, but I never learned this until much later in life.
It was almost time to go, and Dad was heading toward the big slide one last time. I gasped as I realized that this would be my last chance to go with him today, for the the rest of the week, the rest of the year, and maybe my whole life! Making my decision, I pattered up the sopping cement walkway after him. My bare feet, tender from so much wear and tear that day, were sensitive to its texture. Clouds had begun to gather in the sky and were blotting out the sun; a chill wind whispered across my damp skin, sending goosebumps down my arms and legs. After going only a little ways, I had lost sight of my dad and saw only strangers. If only I could have caught him! But it was too late, and my chance was gone forever, so I thought.
My disappointment was acute, and I expressed this to my mother in a 4-year-old sort of way. Mom was very understanding and gentle with me, putting my mind at peace by making me understand that missing out on only one slide should not be enough to ruin my day. There might be a time when I could come back and start over.
Mom was right, of course. I was at Slide Waters only several years ago and enjoyed every single slide the park had to offer to the max, especially those that seemed most daunting. My lesson may not have been learned as a little girl, but today I can surprise myself by mustering up just a bit more courage, however guarded it may be, that helps me take part in new and exciting activities without always being afraid. Although I don't plan on going skydiving or bungee jumping any time soon, and I may still be hesitant of boarding a roller coaster at an amusement park, I am now able to do things I wouldn't have dreamed of doing five years ago. When I do have the guts to hop on that roller coaster, I will always have the satisfaction of saying, "I did it!" and maybe admit that I enjoyed the ride, too.
October 2009
Comments
• Oct. 28, 2009
water slide story
Posted by Oma
I LOVED your story, Cassie....but what does "ginormous" mean??? I need to go back to school!! Love ya.
