As a fan of amusement parks, 1970s cinema, and Coney Island, my perfect storm of nostalgic kick-assedness is the opening shot of Walter Hills 1979 gang epic "The Warriors," as the lights on the Wonder Wheel flicker to life. The Wonder Wheel, to Brooklynites, is what I imagine Big Ben is to Londoners, an iconic touchstone and an irreplaceable feature of a unique skyline that has drawn visitors from all over the world.
In person, my initial impression of the Wonder Wheel was that it is almost comically overbuilt by modern standards, with its massive iron gears, bolts, and structural supports looking positively Flinstonian in their immoveability. This construction also gives the ride a creaky, lurching quality that harkens back to another era, when steam engines, coal cars, and the occasional horse-drawn conveyance still powered a thriving industrial economy. How its members were forged and assembled some 87 years ago remains an intriguing mystery to this writer and a testament to American ingenuity and the lengths we will go to in achieving the next increment of attainment in both work and leisure. The Wonder Wheel is also notable for being possibly the only amusement ride with dedicated accomodations for mans best friend, in this case an old German Shepherd who may have once been a guard dog but is now spending his twilight years slowly revolving between the relentless entropy of the mortal coil and the boundless freedom that every notion of cosmic justice tells us should await our good and faithful canines in the Happy Hunting Ground.
Alas, the operation of the Wonder Wheel does not quite live up to the marvels of its size and construction. A ride on the Wonder Wheel is, for the most part, a shuddering series of starts and stops, and loading and unloading comprise almost the entirety of the ride cycle. The fixed perimeter cars, however, offer the best view to be had in Coney Island, while the interior swinging cars provide what for this critic is still one of its most intense experiences. The thrill passes pretty quickly once you realize the car really isnt going anywhere, but the tipping point as the gondola begins to roll forward on its unseen tracks makes for a breathless moment time after time. I would pay double or treble the already hefty ticket price to experience several consecutive, interrupted revolutions of a fully loaded wheel from one of those interior cars. That would likely be as terrifying and exhilerating as a spin on the Cyclone itself.
As things stand, I still cant imagine a trip to Coney Island without at least one turn on Denos featured attraction. Whatever else the future holds for Coney Island, may the massive outline of the Wonder Wheel continue to illuminate that hallowed turf where, like the Warriors, thrill-seekers of every persuasion are drawn home to play-yay.
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