Even when I don't ride, however, I never tire of staring at this wonderful, magical work of imagination. If this were a real hill with a real rockslide, one would have to marvel at the strength of that old mill's roof!
My very first ride on Splash Mountain, way back in 1989, was extra-special, because my family and I got to descend via a staircase instead of a waterfall. The ride had been closed for repairs all morning, and we'd joined a very long line of eager guests waiting in the hot sun for its promised late opening. Finally, we boarded for our first trip. We got nearly as far as the first interior drop (the little one under the handcart), when we noticed the water level rapidly dropping. Moments later, we were beached in a dry flume, waiting for a cast member to escort us safely out of the mountain. When the assistance arrived, we were guided through one of those mysterious emergency exit doors. We stepped out into the sunlight and...
(SPOILER ALERT: Just in case you didn't know what the back of Splash Mountain looks like...)
