.
Round 4:
Skip forward one year, and you rejoin me not at Flamingo Land, but at Düsseldorf
fair, where I am taking my seat on the “Big Monster” Polyp ride.
It’s no wild thrill ride, but it is an incredible generator of
unpolluted fun, and I have rarely received such a sense of pure joy from
a ride as I did from that one. Generally, Polyps are not usually rides
to get excited about, but this one was a true delight to ride and ride
again. In fact, despite the fair playing host to my former favourite
EuroStar, and a dozen-or-so of my most beloved spin rides, Big Monster
was one of the surprise highlights of the trip. On the front of every
Big Monster car, you will find a small logo. You won’t be surprised to
learn that it simply reads “A. Schwarzkopf”. It’s that man again.
My biggest
regret of my coaster riding “career” is that my first visit to a
German fair was just too late to ride what many call the greatest
coaster of all time, Thriller. Here was a ride so extreme and so intense
that folklore tells of riders having to be carried from their seats in
varying degrees of unconsciousness, having been subjected to G forces
far higher than anything today’s nanny society would allow. Thriller
featured possibly the most audacious opening sequence in coaster
history. From a truly exquisite-looking twisted first drop, riders were
taken directly into two perfectly circular loops positioned to form a
vertical spiral, a concept that nobody dared attempt before or since.
For a designer to attempt such a bold design, they would have to be a
genius or a fool, and I know perfectly well that Schwarzkopf was no
fool. Today it remains the only coaster of which I can look at photos
and footage, and be rendered speechless with admiration.
So, what is
it about Schwarzkopf that makes me champion him above the modern crop of
designers? Let me explain.
Today,
whenever the various Internet forums come alive with the latest coaster
from Intamin or B&M, I am left cold to see yet more rehashes of the
same ideas, the same strings of inversions, with none of the effortless
flair of Anton’s rides. Am I really the only one who sees a B&M
ride and thinks that, compared to the awesome elegance of a ride like
Olympia Looping or Lisebergbahn, B&M’s creations have all the
visual allure of a disused oilrig? Sure, they can look stunning if the
park makes the effort (Nemesis being a prime example), but they look
horribly industrial and samey when stripped to the bone. Since my
conversion to the joys of Schwarzkopf, I look at modern coasters and can
imagine every curve being manipulated on a computer screen, which in
turn makes them feel very “controlled” and therefore unnatural and
sterile. Schwarzkopf’s rides, by contrast, have a natural fluidity
that gives them the organic look and gritty feel that can only be
rivalled by the classic wooden rides of yesteryear. Without wishing to
sound too indulgent, I can only call “soul”, that indefinable sense
that a ride is pulling out all the stops to make sure you know exactly
what it is capable of. They feel wild and out of control, which to me at
least, is the very point of a thrill-ride.
Schwarzkopf
wasn’t only concerned with pleasing riders, however. His coasters were
always built to entertain the spectators as much as the people in the
hot-seats. This he did through such subtle devices as “staging” the
ride to have the highest point furthest from the spectator, and the
loops positioned to have maximum visual impact. Even today, very few
modern coasters have this sense of showmanship. How many designers, for
example, would have the eccentric idea of building a coaster with five
vertical loops and then arranging them to resemble the Olympic rings?
Moreover, if any other manufacturer did attempt that feat, can you
honestly imagine that the result would match the quality of Olympia
Looping?
Sticking to
the aesthetics of Schwarzkopf’s rides, I defy you to find an example
of a more elegant ride than his four large travelling coasters. If you
consider all the constraints placed upon the design of these rides, you
would expect them to be messy and unrefined. Stand in front of any of
them, however, and you can’t fail to be impressed by the remarkably
minimalist use of structure, which always saw the bulk of the ride being
held by a series of neatly positioned tower supports, through which the
track darts and dives repeatedly. A single tower can be used to hold up
to five layers of track in place, and yet the obvious need for the rides
to retrace their steps never once makes them look or feel contrived. In
other words, despite the strict limitations, the rides still feel 100%
natural and flow beautifully. As much as I adore EuroStar, the only
non-Schwarzkopf ride with which to compare them, even this lacks the
grace and tidiness of its Schwarzkopf predecessors.
The quality
of these rides may have been extraordinarily high, but that isn’t the
only reason for my admiration of the man. A look through his history
shows him to have been so versatile and creative that he seemed capable
of fulfilling the most ludicrously restrictive of briefs. Give him a
sprawling hillside location, and he would give a long sweeping wonder of
a ride. Give him a tiny patch of flat land, and he would give you a
short sharp blast of ferocious intensity. Ask him to give you a shuttle
loop, and he would give the best shuttle loop you could want; ask him
for a family ride, and he would give you a better family ride than you
could ever have expected. Want examples? Try Lisebergbahn, Bullet,
Thunder Looper, and Phantasia Land’s Mountain Railway respectively.
Fabulous rides, each and every one. It’s just a shame we can no longer
ride the final two (or possibly three) entries on that list.
With the
1976 opening of the Great American Revolution at California’s Six
Flags Magic Mountain, Schwarzkopf was the first to revive the idea of a
looping coaster, thus laying the foundations for what we now take for
granted. At the time, this was regarded as a fantastic achievement, and
every park owner desperately wanted to offer this new sensation.
Schwarzkopf, however, did not rest on his laurels, and soon started
finding ways to more easily incorporate loops into rides. Just two years
later, he had made it possible to incorporate a loop into a portable
coaster, and the first Looping Star duly made its way onto the German
fair circuit.
Next on the
“to-do” list was a way of building a looping coaster for parks with
a limited amount of money or space. Sure enough, mission accomplished,
the shuttle loop came into being. Indeed, when Alton Towers opened the
lamented Thunder Looper in 1991, how many riders would have guessed that
the ride was already 14 years old before it made it’s way to England?
Surely, though, the piéce de résistance of his launched coaster came
in 1982, when he designed a shuttle loop for the German fair circuit,
and Wiener Looping (latterly The Bullet) made its debut. Even after so
many years, this remains truly one of the most aggressive and
intimidating rides ever built. Arguably an even more inventive twist on
the shuttle loop concept came two years earlier with Katapult, a
travelling ride consisting of a tiny circle of track with a large loop.
It would be interesting to see how modern designers would react if you
asked them for a looping “coaster” that took up no more space than a
Huss Break Dance, but that’s exactly what Katapult is.
Continues...
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