Coaster Kingdom
http://www.ukrollercoasters.co.uk
Logger's Leap (Thorpe Park)
Up
until recently, it is hard to appreciate how much effort goes into building each
and every ride at Thorpe Park. Most of the land the park is built on is a
flooded quarry, excavated into futility by RMC, drained and reclaimed by the
park to build new rides.
Building
on what is essentially a swamp is a challenge. Time and effort is spent (and in
the case of No Way Out, wasted) making the land useable, and aesthetically
satisfactory.
Perhaps,
one of the less appreciated areas is Canada Creek. Again, reclaimed from an
exhausted quarry, the park made a feature of the lake surrounding it – Canada
is famous for the lakes, after all. To do this, rocks were brought into the park
to build up the stony shores around the lake. We’re not talking pebbles here,
we’re talking about enormous boulders.
But
we’re not here to talk about rocks. Loggers Leap when it opened was one of the
largest Log Flumes in the world. The final double-drop was something of a modern
wonder, and compared to anything else, it towered.
Log
Flumes are perhaps one of the slowest advancing areas in the ride trade.
Backwards drops are still something of an incredulity, an effect that is hardly
rocket science and hardly improves the ride THAT much.
Loggers
Leap is probably as simple as you can get. Two drops, one enclosed, and that is
your job lot. It was the size that was to amaze, and now even Tidal Wave makes a
mockery of this fabled claim to fame.
Surrounded
by rustic Canadian buildings, you can watch the worst Loggers Leap has to offer.
A miniature peninsular juts out into the final turns into the station.
Sandwiched between two rows of trees, the main drop. Every thirty-seconds, a log
themed boat will drop down into view, splashing as it does, riders laughing and
grinning as they pass you.
The
station is to your left. A short zig-zag will take you to a bridge outside that
crosses the flume. An enormous amount of zig-zagging follows on a busy day,
about a third of which is enclosed. Expect to do the enclosed bit on a busy day,
taking about twenty valuable minutes.
A
few more steps take you into the gloomy station. Hacksaws and buzz saw blades
hang rusting on the wall, as a perpetual line of ‘logs’ (boats) pass through
the centre of the station.
After
the obligatory ‘how many’ question, you board the five-seater fibreglass
log, slowly moving along the conveyor down the centre of the station.
As
soon as riders are seated, one behind another, seat back in the middle, the boat
dips into the water, turning immediately to the right around a pile of wood. You
slalom back around to the left, heading through the undergrowth to the left of
the lake.
You
enter a pitch black tunnel, and as soon all sense of direction is lost, you
begin a slow ascent up a conveyor, anti-rollbacks breaking the anxious hush.
With haste, the boat levels out before dropping further into the darkness,
hitting the water, spraying riders with a dense mist before squirming further
through the darkened tunnel.
Once
outside, rocks stack up to your left as you pass the lake to your right. Though
the wooded area, you approach a rickety chute conveying water above your heads.
It spills through, dripping down before you head off bridging the lake, parallel
to the wooden trusses of the Canada Creek Railroad.
Once
again, you head into a corridor of fir trees before hitting the final conveyor
belt, taking you high into the final drop. The view is odd. A good view of the
park is to be had, but to the right, a motorway, and below, a lake.
Once
you reach the top, there is no waiting as you promptly accelerate downwards. As
you teeter on feeling the effects of airtime, you bump your way over the middle
dip, steepening once again before hitting the fusty green water, spraying up and
around the boat as you quickly slow down to walking pace.
A
final turn-or-two takes you back to the station, past an embarrassing photograph
of yourself on a television before you step off into the chaos of the
photography shop.
As
a flume, Loggers Leap will hardly dissatisfy. It doesn’t consist of continual
winding through nothingness, but is hardly short enough to leave you wanting
more. The first drop is a good conundrum with the darkness being thoroughly
effective in making you speculate just how tall it is (it isn’t very).
The
brief stint beyond that is just that – brief. The lift into the final drop is
exposed enough to have many vexed about what is to follow. Although it would be
interesting to have the drop without the dip in the middle, it hardly slows the
boat and effectively flicks you further downward at great speed into the water
below.
Like
most log flumes, you don’t get too wet, just a face full of spray, so it is
fair to say you come off really impressed. What may let you down, however, is
the lack of theming, or the unoriginality of it. The log theme really is tried
and tested, and with little more than Canadian firs to keep you entertained you
may feel that the ride is a lost opportunity.
Even
if the logging theme was to be kept, more could be done to it. That said, if you
don’t like it, close your eyes. The ride is great. Bad theming doesn’t
detract from the ride, but good theming adds to it.
3/5 Marcus Sheen