Kings Island

Listen first. Somewhere beyond the trees, a train of coaster cars climbs a lift hill, clicking slowly, link by link. Then comes a roar of wheels on wood, and a wave of screams that rises and fades. Underfoot, the pavement is warm. The air smells of fried dough, sunscreen, and cut grass. Welcome to Kings Island, in the town of Mason, Ohio, just north of Cincinnati. This park has been teaching people to scream for more than half a century.

Kings Island opened in 1972. Its story begins with a river. For generations, Cincinnati families went to an older amusement park called Coney Island, on the banks of the Ohio River. The trouble was water. The river flooded again and again, and the park kept losing rides and seasons. Its owners decided to build somewhere higher and drier. They chose open farmland along the interstate, and they started almost from scratch.

The company behind the new park was Taft Broadcasting, a media business that also owned the rights to a stable of famous cartoon characters. That connection shaped the early park. For years, guests could shake hands with cartoon figures on the midway. Several rides and the heart of the park's first design came north from the old Coney Island. So in a quiet way, Kings Island carries a piece of an earlier Cincinnati tradition inside it.

Now look up. The tall iron tower at the end of the main promenade is a one-third scale copy of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It has stood here since the park opened. An elevator carries visitors to an observation deck near the top. From up there, the whole park spreads out below you — the curving tracks, the tree line, and the flat Ohio farmland beyond. On a clear day, it is the best way to understand the shape of this place.

The broad avenue at the tower's feet is called International Street. Long pools and fountains run down its centre, and the buildings on either side borrow a little from European town squares. In the evening, the fountains are lit, and the street becomes a gathering place. Families wait here for friends. Couples stop for photographs with the tower behind them. It is the park's front room, and nearly everyone passes through it.

Here is a surprise many visitors miss. The Racer, one of the park's original wooden coasters, is often credited with starting a new golden age of roller coasters in America. In the decades before it opened, many parks had torn down their old wooden rides. The Racer showed that people still wanted them. It has two side-by-side tracks, so two trains race each other. For many years, one of those trains even ran backwards.

Then there is the Beast. This wooden coaster opened in 1979, and it was built into the wooded hills at the back of the park. For decades it has been known as the longest wooden roller coaster in the world. The ride is famous for its tunnels and for a long, spiralling helix near the end. Riders say the darkness of the forest is part of the fear. At night, the trees close in, and you cannot see what comes next.

The park has not always gotten things right. A later wooden coaster, called Son of Beast, tried to push wood even further, with a full vertical loop. It was a bold idea, but the ride was troubled, closed after several years, and was finally torn down. Today, its absence is part of the park's history too. Long-time fans still talk about it, half with pride and half with relief.

The modern skyline of Kings Island belongs to steel. Diamondback, opened in 2009, ends with a splash over a lake. Banshee, opened in 2014, hangs riders beneath the track, with their feet dangling free. And Orion, opened in 2020, is a giga coaster — that means its main drop is more than three hundred feet tall. Look for its great orange-red track rising above the trees. It is the tallest ride in the park.

Kings Island has had a little brush with television fame as well. In the 1970s, two popular American family sitcoms, The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family, filmed episodes here. For many Americans of that generation, those episodes were their first look at the park. Over the years, ownership also changed hands several times. Today the park belongs to Six Flags, after a merger with its longtime owner, Cedar Fair.

Not everything here is about speed. Planet Snoopy is one of the largest children's areas in the park world, with gentle rides built for smaller visitors. There is also a water park, called Soak City, for hot summer afternoons. In autumn, the park changes character. Fog machines, costumed performers, and themed mazes turn the paths into a Halloween event. The same trees that shade summer crowds become a spooky backdrop after dark.

What gives this place its texture is the people. You will hear teenagers comparing which coaster is the scariest. You will see grandparents who rode the Racer as children, now waiting at the exit for their grandchildren. Local families often hold season passes and come back many times a year. For much of the region, Kings Island is less a tourist sight and more a shared memory, passed from one generation to the next.

So pause for a moment where you stand. Look at the tower rising over the fountains. Listen for the next lift hill clicking upward, and the screams that follow it. Notice the smell of the food stands, the sound of the water, and the light moving through the trees. As you walk on, remember that this whole park grew from a flooded riverbank... and from a simple wish to keep the fun on higher ground.