If you’ve been reading the business pages, you probably already know that Disney now owns both Star Wars and Marvel Comics. The predictable response to this as a parent is to wonder, “Am I giving this corporation enough opportunities to hijack my child’s imagination?” Apparently not. I recently saw a video on the New York Post’s website about a family that’s gone to Disneyland over 300 times.
Now I can’t claim to be an expert on parenting, but I do think keeping your children’s expectations low is a key to success. We head to Colorado every August to see the in-laws and beat the D.C. heat, and the kids usually start begging around May for a trip to Lakeside Amusement Park, just outside Denver. Built in 1908 on a natural lake just off I-70, Lakeside is one of the last remaining “trolley parks” in America. Around the turn of the century, amusement parks sprang up at the end of the trolley lines in cities all over the country. When the trolleys went away, so did most of the amusement parks.
Lakeside, along with dozens of other parks of the era, was originally called “White City” because it was built in the style popularized by architect Daniel Burnham at the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893, with the buildings and pavilions whitewashed. The park is defined by its 150-foot “Tower of Jewels,” which was once lit up with 16,000 individual light bulbs and was one of the tallest buildings in Colorado when it was built.
The park was rescued from bankruptcy in the Depression by the Krasner family, who still own it. They added dozens of art deco structures and gorgeous neon signs that make the park what it is today. If you go there at night when it’s all lit up, the place is a stunning bit of Americana that’s seemingly frozen in time. If you go there during the day, well, there’s not enough Purell in the world.
After 110 years, the park’s upkeep leaves a little to be desired, and most of the rides aren’t terribly special. If you’ve been to a county fair, you’ve probably seen them. There’s a merry-go-round, Ferris wheel, bumper cars, the Spider, the Tilt-A-Whirl, the Loop-O-Plane, and the Museum of Ill-Conceived Tattoos. (Okay, that last one isn’t an official attraction; it’s what you get when the park’s patrons are drawn from the first state to legalize weed.)
I haven’t decided whether the fact that seemingly half the rides are closed on any given visit is proof of the park’s commitment to safety or evidence otherwise. Adjacent to the parking lot is the ghostly and defunct Lakeside Speedway. There hasn’t been a race since 1988, when an out-of-control car sent a tree into the grandstand, killing someone.
The park does have two roller coasters, though. The first one, the Wild Chipmunk, is referred to by locals as the Chipped Tooth. It’s premised on the idea that violently moving around a track at abrupt right angles is enjoyable. The main attraction, however, is the Cyclone, a 90-foot-high wooden coaster built in 1940. It’s a historic landmark, according to the society of American Coaster Enthusiasts, and a genuinely great ride.
Lakeside isn’t Disneyland, in ways that are good as well as bad. Aside from a small parking fee, unlimited rides on weekdays are a whopping $17. You can also buy tickets for individual rides. That’s why around 10 p.m., you’ll often see a rush of teenagers and college kids getting off their shifts streaming into the park for one ride on the Cyclone before heading home.
They also encourage you to bring your own food into the park, and Lakeside’s proximity to the freeway makes it a great meeting place. My wife and I plan family gatherings around the place, since it’s hard to see all of the extended clan during our short trips. The adults lug in coolers and catch up around picnic tables while wild packs of younger cousins roam the park in search of mechanical thrills. We usually get there just in time to catch the sunset behind the Rockies on the other side of the lake and watch the neon signs come alive.
For years now, the closed rides and waning upkeep have had us worried about Lakeside’s fate. But this year when we showed up, they were building a roller coaster—the first new ride in a long time. The announcement prompted a wave of relief that the park would be around a while longer and occasioned a series of reminiscences and tributes to Lakeside in the local press.
Maybe my kids have no idea what they’re missing because they’ve so far been denied the pilgrimage to Orlando or Anaheim. As amusement parks go, Disneyland is impossible to top. But I see the looks on their faces every year at Lakeside as proof that the happiest place on earth can be wherever you want it to be.
