< by Brennan >

It is hot as blazes in Virginia during the summer. A swampy, stifling, suffocating sort of hot. It’s like being stuffed into a mattress and forced to walk around. A golf club melted in half in my hands one time during a practice swing.

To beat the heat, going to the pool or beach was nice, but there was nothing like spending a day at the most patriotic, America-loving theme park you could ask for: Water Country USA.

We would get season passes and frequent Water Country to the point that our hair would change color from the chlorine, our guts would grow from the chicken fingers and fries, and our backs would burn from jumping out of our tubes and cruising down on our backs.

One time, on Jet Scream, I bailed on my tube, always the preferred traveling method. But this time I got wedged on the tunnel and was stuck, maybe on purpose because I knew my younger brother was cruising right behind me, probably doing the same.

Sure enough, an empty tube came down the pipeline and cruised past me. Where was the ghost rider that I thought would be my brother? Like clockwork, Stew came crushing down the line blasted into me, knocking me loose and flying down the rest of the way with me.

We came to the bottom, the two of us together on a single person ride, without our tubes for riding in. The lifeguard wasn’t pleased, but what are you going to do? My ride home wasn’t due until the park closed. So we lined up and did it all again.

The Lemon Drop. Peppermint Twist. Malibu Pipeline — IN TOTAL DARKNESS. Invasion of AQUAZOID.

If you need to beat the heat, Water Country USA will do the trick.