I love roller coasters now, by the way

The first time I rode a roller coaster, I was 16. My high school band went on a trip to Dallas for a weekend, where we went to Six Flags Over Texas, Medieval Times, went go-kart racing and more.

I still remember the moment so vividly. It was “Batman The Ride,” a 50-mile-per-hour overhead track ride, which features a 360 degree loop. Being the avid preparer I am, I, of course, watched numerous videos prior to the occasion and determined that this ride, out of all of them, would be the best choice as a first-timer — that, and my friend suggested it.

When it was our turn, I first sat down my bag and put my glasses inside (some people ride roller coasters with them on, but I’m afraid of losing them), then I sat down with my feet dangling off into the abyss below and held my friend's hand. She began to laugh at how nervous I was as the ride started, but as I began to scream, she somehow screamed loud.

“Why is she screaming?” I thought. “Shouldn’t she have it together while I’m losing my mind instead?”

Turns out, I was crushing her hand, without realizing it, for the entirety of the ride.

Her hand was bright red and crumbled in a way that was surely unnatural. Still, she didn’t complain and instead hid her pain with screams throughout the other rides we encountered that day.

CATWOMAN Whip, Conquistador, MR. FREEZE, Pandemonium — you name it, we rode it.

Still, despite my fear, this is one of my favorite memories to date and I owe a lot of it to my friend. And now, I love rollercoasters with an intense passion. I bet she would be super surprised to hear that after the pain I put her through.

There is something so freeing about flying through the air and feeling your heart drop as you pummel toward the ground, only to dart straight back up.

I tell this story for two reasons. The first is because I really do love rollercoasters and the second is because it’s Women’s History Month.

My friend was someone I was super close to at the time, who helped me out with everything you can imagine a 16-year-old goes through and I appreciate her immensely for that. I don’t talk to her anymore, but I do hope she knows — if for whatever reason she reads this — that I wish her the best and I’m grateful to have had her as a woman in my life that I shared happy memories with.

Happy Women’s History Month.

Kelley is a reporter of the Hays Free Press/News-Dispatch. She can be reached at [email protected].