Trip Report

Fujiyoshida, Japan

Friday, September 16th, 2011
Weather: Warm, mostly cloudy, low 80s
Crowds: Heavy

After 3 days at Tokyo Disneyland, we wasted no time in starting our next sightseeing adventure. Earlier in the visit, we’d made a trying but ultimately successful attempt to pre-purchase bus tickets for our weekend escape from the city. On Thursday, we checked out of our hotel in central Tokyo and made our way back to the Shinjuku Highway Bus station.

Our destination was the Mount Fuji-Five Lakes region. Sort of as Lake Tahoe is to the Bay Area, you’re able to completely swap urban for scenic in just a few hours on the road. Of course the namesake of the area refers to the iconic and revered Mount Fuji, and it just so happens that a series of lakes sit near its base on its northern side. I wouldn’t exactly compare the draw to the tourist and natural haven that is the Tahoe area, but it’s still a stark change in surroundings and a substantial drop in the madness that is Tokyo.

Roller coasters improve all scenic views

Take a step back in time. And take off your shoes

As chance would have it, the stop prior to ours was at the official Fuji-Q Highlands Resort Hotel. We were staying a bit down the road, much closer to one of the lakes, and in a more traditional Japanese-style inn, or Ryokan, but this gave us a sneak peek at the park. Not at all familiar with the layout, it just seemed like towering jumbles of steel soaring 200 feet into the air. The marquee coasters were impossible to miss: Eejanaika with its massive 4D-style track, Dodonpa with its sharp 170 foot vertical tower, and Fujiyama’s track is everywhere. It just goes on and on. This was definitely a change of pace from Disney.

What would not be a change of pace from Disney were massive crowds. We got a good look at a queue house (not sure for which coaster), and it looked absolutely packed. It was almost 4pm, so I was hopeful the morning may be a bit more pleasant, but I wasn’t expecting much. With no Fastpass and only one day, we wouldn’t have many alternatives if we wanted a ride.

It was just a few more minutes to Kawaguchi-ko, and we were left off at the main train station in the center of town. Being a resort village there were still mass transit options (i.e., buses), but we treated ourselves to a cab ride. It was about a mile to our lodgings, but with the heat and luggage, it was an easy call. I saw the initial fare was 780Y (so about $10), which isn’t cheap to start, but it covered 1.8km, so that’s all we’d need to pay. Plus, there’s almost no tipping in the country, so it was worth the convenience for sure.

We checked into our ryokan, which also houses a public onsen, or hot spring spa. This place was the real deal – traditional Edo-period architecture, carvings of dragons and koi ponds everywhere. You have to remove your shoes right as you enter. Our room was traditional as well, tatami mats on the floor, sliding doors and windows, low table and pillows, and futons as bedding. The full package was much more expensive than we were willing to go for, but that included a private onsen and full multi-course meals served in-room. Instead we were on our own for food, and we would need to share the public onsen if we wanted a bath.

We’d work up the nerve to visit that the next day, but for now we took a walk around the neighborhood, found the nearby Lake Kawaguchi, and grabbed some dinner to go from our nearest Family Mart. It was smart to take it easy, and we rested up for another day of running around an amusement park.

Fuji-Q opened at 8:30am, which was nice and early, though we didn’t really have a good idea of how to get there. We were up and out, with breakfast in tow, by 7am, and there was no one at the front desk. Our backup plan was to make our way to the train station and figure out our options from there. The walk was actually quite pleasant, already quite muggy, but not nearly as hot as it had been in Tokyo. Mount Fuji was clearly visible, which was a rarity since it spends considerably more time shrouded by clouds

I wonder where this train goes

Less than 20 minutes later, we were at the station, and we had a decision to make. We knew the park was close, and we knew the main line at the station stopped there, so a train was worth a shot. The departure board alternated Japanese and English, and we found the next one left in 15 minutes, so we could skip the cab. Now, how would we get ourselves some tickets?

As we had done many times already, our instinct was to walk right up to what looked like the ticket machine of the line or system we wanted, and hope for an English button. We were greeted with fortune as we found the English option, saw the station for Fuji-Q Highland, and even saw a round-trip option. We bought the tickets for a few bucks each way. Passing an attendant, he took our outbound tickets and pointed us to the train. Seeing that every square inch of it, inside and out, was covered by Thomas the Tank Engine themeing, we knew we were on the right one.

Welcome to the secret entrance

Precisely on time (thanks, Japanese sense of efficiency), we rumbled from our town to the next one down the track in all of a few minutes. The station was apparently at the back of the park, opposite the side we’d seen the day before. But it had its own entrance, and at 30 minutes prior to opening, it didn’t seem that bad at all.

This was one of those rare times I hadn’t pre-purchased admission. There didn’t seem to be any discount online, and I felt more secure about the transaction doing it in person. The single line, about 50 people long with us towards the back, was for both purchasing tickets and entry into the park, so I didn’t feel so bad not having gotten them ahead of time.

Right on time, the ticket windows opened for the day, and folks started entering. Considering our location, it seemed to be more efficient to start back here with Eejanaika, and work our way towards the craziness at the front afterwards. I didn’t have the best sense of what wait times would be like, but my general assessment was, no matter where we avoided a wait first, we’d soon find the crowds and wait everywhere else later.

There were options for admission, and guests didn’t have to buy an all-inclusive pass. Admission was 1000Y, and ride tickets could be bought subsequently. Considering we’d rack up 5000Y to 7000Y in ride tickets alone, the flat rate of the all-day pass of 5000Y was what we went for. At about $67, it wasn’t exactly a steal, but it sure beat the alternative of $12 to get in the door, and then $8-$12 bucks a pop to get on the rides. I had at least six coasters to get on.

Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to diminish the extraordinary opportunity to visit one of the most sought after amusement parks in the world with my silly quest to get my 300th coaster. I know, arbitrary doesn’t begin to describe the milestone, but it was going to happen whether I acknowledged it or not, so it was certainly on my mind. It wasn’t, however, more important to me than just getting to experience this place.

Fuji-Q set the bar high in 1997 with Fujiyama

Hold onto your brain on Eejanaika

It’s probably Japan’s, if not all of Asia’s, most well-known amusement park, at least among American enthusiasts. Building a record-breaker is always a great way to put yourself on the amusement park map. They certainly did that with Fujiyama, at almost 260 feet tall, 80 mph, and 6700 feet long, it was something of an unbeatable mark for back in 1996, at least for hypercoasters.

Dodonpa going very, very fast

The latest addition, Takabisha

But the place had some old-school credit as well; it had opened a shuttle coaster known as Moonsault Scramble over a decade before that, and with track spiking upwards of 220 feet and pulling over 6 G’s, it was as infamous and sought after as a coaster could be. It closed and was removed in 2000, but that only added to the park’s intrigue. What would they do next?

What they did was add a series of top-notch, unabashedly ambitious coasters over the next decade. 2001 saw the creation of Dodonpa, breaking the world’s speed record by topping out at 107mph. It was a new offering from S&S, only the second of its type, using pressurized air as a launch system, and it provided over 4Gs in reaching its top speed in a mere 1.8 seconds.

Five years later came Eejaneika, another second of its kind. It somehow managed to top X at Six Flags Magic Mountain, its 4th dimension predecessor, and a coaster widely considered the most intense amusement creation of all time. Both have seats that are set not above or below, but along side the track, and designed to spin and flip in concert with and in addition to the insane things the track itself is doing. Whether this coaster could best X, I was eager to see for myself.

Lastly, this season brought the addition of Takabisha, the world’s tallest, fastest, longest, etc., etc. Eurofighter coaster, by Gerstlauer. The best way to describe the ride system is as a wild mouse on steroids. The tiny trains seat eight passengers in a single car with two rows of four. But add in a launch, an additional vertical lift with a 120 degree drop, and seven inversions - some of which we’ve never seen before (or will again) - and you’ve clearly gone from wild mouse to major multi-element coaster.

Those were the four must-ride coasters. There was also a wild mouse and a unique kids’ suspended coaster which brought the count to a respectable six. But unlike the last coaster park we’d visited (La Ronde in Montreal, less than a month ago), it was more about quality than quantity here. It just so happened than the quantity was still enough to top off my count at 301 – assuming we could get on everything.

A quick word about what we expected, both about the park and its guests. I hadn’t heard great things, operations-wise. Again, having recently visited La Ronde, I figured things couldn’t be nearly as bad, but various trip reports I had read mentioned low capacities, inefficient operators, and single train operation. Also, line jumping was something of a pervasive occurrence throughout the park. With unimaginative, exposed queue houses right along midways, it looked like this could be an issue as well. Maybe Six Flags secretly ran this park, too.

But as with La Ronde, we were optimistic about our visit, and all about keeping an open mind. Waiting 45 minutes for a Boomerang is significantly worse than even 90 minutes for a 4D coaster, so I kept that thought in the back of my mind. Fortunately, I could see Eejanaika testing nearby, and had a feeling that one would be considerably more manageable.

The line ahead of us dwindled down, and we purchased our admission. Since the park required separate admission for rides, they needed a non-transferable way to denote people on the all-inclusive plan. Now most parks will go with a simple, passive wristband. Not here. We fed the vouchers we’d received from the ticket window into what were actually photo booths, and were then given our actual pass, with our photo printed on it - could not have been more overkill.

I had almost no clue of the layout of the place, but followed the few folks who were ahead of us towards Eejanaika, and into the queue. Like X, the line splits as it approaches the station building, though at least here we found an attendant directing us which way to go. My assumption was that he pointed us toward the side with the shorter wait, but I had no way of knowing that.

Enjoy your personal storage area

We had just a ramp and a half worth of crowd ahead of us, but with one train, cycles were coming in at five minutes. The train configuration meant that we’d only feed half the train per cycle, and the trains here only have five rows. That meant we’d me moving 10 people every five minutes. There were less than 50 people ahead of us, so the wait was still only 20 minutes, but that was plenty of time to do the math, and figure out an overall hourly capacity of 240. It was a good thing we were getting this one out of the way now.

You're suddenly reminded this thing is 250 feet tall

Inside the station, we found one of the most unusual loading setups I’ve ever come across. Folks are let in, 10 at a time, to their very own section in the station, which had three of these sections on both sides. Here there are ten lockers, and ten pairs of footprints corresponding with the rows of the trains. You’re given ample time to remove everything (and I do mean everything) from your pockets and place all belongings inside the locker, and they key comes on a strap you can put around your wrist. In case you weren’t sure how insane this ride was going to be, this would be your first indication.

The loading process is as tedious as X, with understandably good reason. First seatbelts are checked, then harnesses are checked, and then harnesses are double checked. The loading crew (easily eight ride ops) sings a little chant, and then bows as the trains leave the station. We were in the front row, and glad to be there. As an early anniversary gift to Megan, I gave her the inside seat as well.

The trains make a U-turn to the right, and start up the lift, facing backwards. Unlike at Magic Mountain, Eejanaika is smack in the middle of the park, and you really get a sense of how massive the ride really is. We climbed the 250 feet to the top, and put our lives in the hands of our restraints and our flexible spines.

See the flipping in action, the first car has completed the inversion just in time

Things start out the same as X – rolling onto your back at the peak of the lift, taking the 200+ foot vertical drop face first, flipping at the last second. But from there, it takes things to a whole new level. Every second, it feels like you’re getting spin, flipped, or twisted about. There are simply no moments to catch your breath. While X’s maneuvers are distinctly separate (with great pacing, don’t get me wrong), Eejanaika is an unrelenting blur of constant changes speed, forces, and direction. It is absolutely overwhelming.

As for the roughness factor, it was pretty much a push. I found it to be easily as intense, but without some of the back-breaking jostling I usually find on X. Then again, it was the first ride of the day, the first real coaster of the trip, and we were in the front row. To be honest, I’ve only even ridden X (ok, fine, X2, whatever) four times, so I’m probably not the best judge, but there definitely seemed to be a bit more going on, and a comparable, at worst, level of roughness. The nod easily goes to Eejanaika, all of two spots above X2 in my steel listing at #14 – ahead of Nitro and behind Volcano.

For those counting (i.e., me), it was my 296th coaster. I had four to go, but only three biggies remained. Moving into the heart of the park, we passed Mad Mouse, a rather unique custom entry in the Wild Mouse genre. It was all but walk on, so we figured we would get it out of the way, and line up my 300th coaster with something a little more respectable. I’m surprised I cared so much.

Not all coasters are created equal

What Mad Mouse lacks in the traditional dips, it makes up with a seemingly endless series of twists and sharp turns. It’s not the most graceful ride I’ve come across, but I suppose that’s not the point of this kind of ride, now is it? I certainly give it some credit for changing up the commonly cloned layout with its custom design. Now, if only I could find out who designed it.

Having worked our way closer to the “front” of the park, we could see where all the crowds were hiding. Nearby, Fujiyama had a sizable line, but with two trains running it seemed manageable. We went around to corner and saw Takabisha, and not surprisingly, being the new-for-2011, saw an already full queue, at an eye-popping two hours and 20 minutes. Thinking we’d work up the nerve for that, we went around the side and joined the queue for Dodonpa.

Sidestepping the entrance as the outdoor switchback area was only half full, we were again optimistic. Like many lesser parks, wait time is estimated by signs placed throughout the queue at various points. How this accounted for the number of trains running (which has as much to do with your wait time as how many people are in front of you), I had no idea, but a closer look at the ride made me think they were maxed out.

Somehow, everyone survived

A dispatch time of two minutes (the launch was more than audible even from this location) didn’t seem too bad, but we had to remember that the trains only sat eight passengers. Once again, we had ample time to do the math: we were looking at another coaster operating at 240 riders per hour.

Let me say this now: I’m not accustomed to waiting in line. I’ll go ahead and assume you read my diatribe against slow operations and low capacity at La Ronde, and save you some swearing. But it short, it’s more about a park not using its resources (efficient operators, extra trains, etc.) than the number of people in the queue. I don’t blame a park for my stupid decision to visit during a peak time. I do blame them if they make no attempt to handle what they undoubtedly know will be a peak crowd.

The entire ride isn't actually taken at 100mph, thankfully

It was easy to see that they were running three trains here, so it was hard to tell if operations were inefficient or if the ride was just low capacity. We certainly could have asked the same of Eejanaika, but we were on and off that one so quickly, it never really came up. All we knew was our current wait time was up to 45 minutes, and we were still in the outside queue area.

I passed the time by counting a group of people ahead of me up to some landmark, and then seeing how long it would take me to reach that landmark. With those numbers, I could check on the speed of the queue. When I explained to Megan what I was doing, I genuinely yearned for a (working) cell phone. We were pretty much the only ones in line without ours in front of our faces. Oh, the Japanese.

Probably says, "Dodonpa"

The primary pain of the whole thing came from having absolutely no clue as to how much more of the queue was inside the station building. Assessing our progress by the signs made it look like we were mostly there when we entered, but we found a large, ramped switchback that took us to another door. It was yet another milestone to work towards, and this took another half an hour.

As it eventually turned out, this door mercifully turned out to be the entrance to the station. Again the place was left empty, but here the lockers were across the train on the far side of the station like at most parks. This meant the trains were unloaded in a separate area, advanced into the loading area, and riders climbed through and packed away their possessions one by one, before returning to take their seats on the train. I know the locker situation gets more difficult with extra trains, but having a setup like Eejanaika would allow the tedious process of hitting the lockers to happen without slowing down the entire ride.

The restraint process itself was again complex, but with all of eight riders it was hardly the delay. In my mind, there was no reason this thing couldn’t have been dispatching trains at twice the rate. Actually, the only thing that was on my mind at that moment was going from zero to 108 mph in less than two seconds. My seat belt was fastened, and the lap bar was absolutely wedged against my legs and into my lap. I guess my butt wouldn’t be catching any air today. The seats themselves were comfy, though it wasn’t all that great being pinned in like this.

Say goodbye to your thighs

Again we were in the front row, and out of the station and into a tunnel we received some more bows, taking a right turn and coming to stop. We could see out of the tunnel a good 100 feet ahead. All sorts of humming and hissing surrounded us. I’d never been on a Thrust Air coaster before, so I had no idea what the launch was like. Forget intense, I was just hoping for some indication of when we were going to get shot out of the proverbial cannon.

The countdown is done in English, and starts at three. After “one”, you hear “DODON…” for a split second, and then all you hear is wind. Never mind gut-wrenching, the launch is soul-wrenching. Acceleration isn’t something I’d thought much about, top speed is top speed. I had, however, always noticed Xecelrator packs a punch, but even that is 0-82 in 2.3 seconds. Add 25 mph to that, and do it in 25% less time.

Still pretty damn windy at this point

But the numbers don’t do it justice. Those two coasters in the US that top 120mph? Gradual. Superman at Magic Mountain? Practically a snail. Even Excelerator is slow out of the gate. Here’s how I’ll put it: there’s absolutely no sensation of gaining speed. It never feels like you’re going faster and faster. Not even for a split second. You have the sensation of being stationary, and the next thing your senses are contending with is some pretty impressive speed.

The front row meant extra wind. I couldn’t open my eyes all the way, for fear of losing my contacts. My view of the first few hundred feet of the ride might as well have been underwater. But I could feel it. The wind hurt, and the stretching and flapping of skin was reminiscent of only a few special coasters. Boy, there’s something special about getting over 80 or 90mph.

The trains dip suddenly into a glass tunnel, providing some nice butterflies, and then you’re quickly back up and into a sprawling 270 degree right turn. The turn rises and falls, and here the speed is at its most exhilarating. At the end of the turn is the top hat. A simple and fiendish maneuver, it sends the trains straight up, overwhelms them with negative G’s, and sends that back down, straight down, pulling up just before a certain face plant.

If there’s one complaint about this ride, it’s that this element is taken with way too much speed. That may be surprising to hear, but it’s such a hairpin at the top of the hill, my thighs were absolutely crushed, as if someone had dropped two hundred pounds in my lap for a quarter second.

The initial pull up is nice, very forceful, and the highest G’s on the ride. Oddly, though, there are brakes halfway up the hill, and these send you forward into your restraint before the nose of the train even begins to tilt down. You’re already in an awkward position before the negative G’s hit, and you’re suddenly flying face first, straight down. The pull out is something of a relief, and the ride makes a sharp left turn before the final straightaway, and hits the main brakes. There are a few twists and turns before getting back to the station, where we had been all of 45 seconds earlier.

It’s a short ride, but what a jolt. There really isn’t anything rough about it – the rubber tires on the steel track are something else – but there are certainly moments of discomfort for starters, if not pain. I cannot question the absolutely insanity of the launch, and for that alone it shoots to upper end of my rankings, but lands at a more modest (but still highly regarded) #36 on my list. Coincidentally, it landed between some other notable launched coasters, behind the Chillers, formerly of SF Great Adventure, and ahead of California Screamin’ at the Disneyland Resort. All top notch coasters. Oh, and it made number 298 overall.

Go ahead, put your trust in TOGO

Feeling exhilarated, we went next to take on Fujiyama. It had a longer line than before, but again seemed doable thanks to two trains. Its cycle time was three minutes, but the trains were significantly longer at 28 passengers. Granted, that’s a good 25% less than what you’ll find on almost all other hypercoasters, but with a rate of 560 riders per hour, we were happy for the increase.

If yours looks like the top one, you should probably see a doctor

The line definitely felt like it moved quicker, but the queue was a sprawling back and forth schlep along midway, parallel to the lift, easily 200 feet from end to end. From there it took a series of ramps up into the elevated station. I’ll save you the details of a painful queue, just to say that a wall perfect for sitting in the final switchback and a series of clever ride posters on the ramp were glorious diversions.

It had been 90 minutes, we but we made it into the station, and got the second row after showing our passes. Again, this ride is an icon, and well known in the enthusiast community and industry as a whole. It’s nothing short of a monument to the Japanese love for roller coasters, and like the famed Pepsi Max Big One, it was a direct shot at parks in the US, and a reminder that we’re far from the only players in the game.

Similar to the Big One, it was built at the peak of the coaster arms race in the mid-90s, and manufactured by a company that’s no longer in business. Arrow Dynamics, which built Pepsi Max, actually has a lot in common with TOGO – they were both foundations of the amusement industry in their respective countries, and their designs could be found all over the world. Also in common was a ride catalog that went from kiddie models to some of the most advanced rides of the day. Both hit some pretty impressive technological milestones along the way as well. Arrow may be tied more directly to the inception of the modern amusement park thanks to its work with Disney in the 1950’s, but TOGO operated even longer, having come about as the East Sea Amusement Machine Company in 1935.

Unfortunately, they also shared a reputation for aging poorly, and that was my primary concern at the moment. TOGO’s rep is marginally worse, with a few entries vying for an unofficial entry as the worst coaster in the world. But this was a hyper coaster. It didn’t go upside down, and didn’t have shoulder restraints. How bad could it be? Heck, reports listed it as one of the more bearable TOGO entries. I should have known that “better than the worst” really didn’t mean all that much.

Coasters in every direction

Loading was like Dodonpa, so we winced at the slowness of the group returning to the train, and were secured. The train makes a U-turn to the left out of the station, and slowly begins to climb the massive lift. The height markers were listed in meters, so we didn’t know exactly how high we were, but once you get past 60, it’s a ways. The weather had become overcast, so we weren’t afforded another view of Mount Fuji, but the park was laid out below us, and the nearby mountains and lakes were just stunning.

We pass the world record breaking height marker – I guess they’re not lying; the ride did break the record, as the train tops out at 79 meters. The track straightens to level for a bit, takes a slight turn to the right, and then disappears below. It makes for a gradual transition from lift to drop, but certainly adds to the excitement.

Probably the highlight of the ride

The first drop is terrific, nicely pitched, and at 229 feet, still nothing to sneeze at, even today. We hit 90mph, and wasted no time regaining the altitude we’d just lost. The train seemed to take forever climbing the turnaround hill, and that left us with little speed to make the turn back towards the station. Instead of a quick, intense maneuver, we’re give a chance to recover from the drop, savor the view, and anticipate a quicker pace for the rest of the ride. The next drop and third hill are still sizable, easily 150 feet each and we’ve now reached the far end of the footprint and start a sweeping upward turn to the right.

Up to that point, it had been a terrific ride: nice elements, good pacing, bumpy for sure, but hardly rough considering the speeds we were reaching. And then someone flipped a switch. They ran out of quality engineering. We started to get knocked around. What had been graceful and sweeping suddenly became rough and jarring. Turns were banked too much. Transitions lacked any cohesion. A helix somehow rocked us back and forth. The grand finale of twisting and diving bunny hills was absolutely brutal.

It was one of those rides where the brake run is a godsend, and I was as relieved as I was bummed out. I really wanted this ride to be good. If anything, it was an interesting contrast to Pepsi Max, which starts off miserable with an awful first drop but provides an exciting and tolerably rough ride the rest of the way. Fujiyama went superb to subpar faster and more dramatically than any coaster I’ve ever ridden.

Its splendid start saved it from the absolute depths my rankings, but I couldn’t find a place for it in even within the top 100. It sits as unquestionably the worst Hypercoaster I’ve ridden, taking the dubious spot from Pepsi Max, though some 50 spots below it. It’s a gap rarely experienced by such a lofty type of ride.

Having stood for more than three hours with hardly 10 minutes of sitting interspersed, it was definitely time for a break. It was right around 1pm, so lunch was on our minds. While in the most recent queue, we’d scouted out a nearby burger place with the help of an English map, it was about time for the first real American food of the trip.

More fun than scary, but still a little scary

There was a good-sized line coming out of the entrance of Mos Burger, and the chalk board lacked any English writing. Fortunately the line moved quickly, and we came upon a big stack of picture menus with a helpful translation. Megan ordered a chicken burger and I went with beef, and she grabbed us a table. Ordering was relatively painless and simply took a lot of pointing. The meal was about $20 for our burgers and a single drink (a vibrantly colored melon soda) and fries. Not exactly a steal, but that had as much to do with the crummy exchange rate as inflated park prices. It was good; definitely a different take on the burger experience we get at home, but it hit the spot and was a great rest.

Not wanting to head right back into the worst of it, we took a side trip to Tonde Mia!, a Giant Frisbee. It was sponsored by a pizza place, and it turns out it’s Italian for “My round!” - one of the more unusual names I’ve come across. Theme aside, the ride is just massive, and I was excited to get on the first of this type of ride. Your average Frisbee is a fun diversion, this looked like as intense a non-coaster ride as you can get.

The line looked bearable, especially considering the ride fit around 50 passengers at a time. It took just a couple cycles before we were in the pre-boarding area, where we could use some of the great lockers while waiting for the previous cycle to end. We waited patiently for the boarding doors to open, and quickly found our seats. Again, loading was slow but noticeably deliberate.

The ride started and we rock back and forth, slowly beginning to spin. We eventually hit vertical, and soon went a good bit past it, making what felt like 270 degrees of the full revolution. It was more about diving back and forth than rotating, though that still added something. Airtime was plentiful and the ride was graceful as we got a good number of swings at full tilt.

After we unloaded, we were let back into our locker area, but for some reason the area had a closed gate across the exit. There seemed to be no reason for us to wait to leave, and we had to stand there for a few minutes before an attendant opened the gate to let us pass. It was really the only downside of the experience, especially since we had no idea what the hold up was.

Argue with this record all you want, but the certificate makes it official

We can't stay here

Takabisha still needed to be done, and there was no time like the present. We cut across the center of the park, and worked from the station to the entrance as we passed on the midway. Here, we saw pretty much every inch of the queue, and knew exactly what we were getting into. The wait time was seemingly steady at a whopping 140 minutes, and we had no reason to believe it would be even marginally less than that.

Ok, this ain't natural

The first portion of the queue is a shaded queue house. Here we inched backed a forth for a good hour. We could see a small portion of the ride; with one train going roughly every minute, my math put the capacity at 480. This was lower than Fujiyama, but easily doubled Dodonpa. Going against us was the fact that there were easily twice as many people in the queue.

For the first time, we noticed an express entry queue. I had never even heard of any sort of express pass line cutting system at the park. Not that we’d have been able to decipher it, but there was no indication. It was a little frustrating, but it didn’t seem to be utilized much. A couple people would go through every five or ten minutes, so it was hardly a drop in the bucket.

What was really the most exasperating was the line jumping. We had seen a little of it so far in our day, but here was the first time it seemed out of hand. On Dodonpa and Fujiyama, you had one person hopping out of line, getting snacks or a few drinks, or maybe a couple people temporarily leaving to use the restroom. This somehow seemed tolerable, and was almost condoned. At a certain point in the queues, there was a sign that said (both in Japanese and English) all groups must be together from this point on. The implication was plain; saving spots up to this point has been okey dokey.

Here, there were entire groups returning to their single anchor hours later. One person seemed to be holding the place for six, eight, one time I counted 12 people joining the line. This seemed to violate the spirit of an already flexible policy on line jumping. It was one thing if someone made an ice cream run 30 minutes into a two hour wait. But for a swarm of people get to take a load off for three quarters of that same queue was just unfair. I tried not to hold it against an entire country for what is clearly a different attitude towards queuing, but when a 60 minute wait isn’t even your halfway point, it can be hard to cope.

Megan needed to take a breather, so we took advantage of the policy as she grabbed a drink and a seat for a good twenty minutes towards the end of the exposed portion of the queue. When she rejoined, it wasn’t much longer until the “no cutting” section, though we still had a good 30+ minutes to go. The queue stretched upwards in a series of ramps which weren’t all visible from the midway, but we eventually made it to the top, posed in front of a poster for the steepest drop from the Guinness Book of Records, and entered the station.

The station wasn’t kept empty per se, but it was a little smarter setup that’d we’d seen on Dodonpa and Fujiama. Immediately to the left were the lockers, and then to the right there were two queues, one for the front row and one for the back row. We dropped off our stuff, and surprised the rows were the same length, saw no reason not to take the front row. Then again, we were the first of the group let in, so the choice was probably ours anyway. Maybe they did usher folks into the back row as needed, but we didn’t see that.

Some inversions are big and sweeping

The unloading station dropped off right in front of the lockers, and it wasn’t entirely clear what stopped someone from walking right back into to station queue, but I suspect the honor system was somewhat in play, along with a handful of station attendants only half otherwise occupied. It looked like an efficient enough setup, until we saw that trains were loaded one at a time.

How a multi-load system like any Dive Coaster, another design with short trains, wasn’t being used was pretty disappointing. Again, the loading process was efficient enough considering the separate checking of seatbelts and shoulder harnesses. But that only eight passengers were being handled during dispatch really makes that 60 second time seem less than impressive. They could easily check one or two addition trains simultaneously, dispatch them all together, and it would only cost a fraction more time. Ugh, maybe I just got too used to how Disney did things, but this was a pretty glaring waste of an otherwise well-staffed attraction.

As usual, once we were leaving the station, all such concerns were forgotten. We left with another chant, “Bish-a! Bish-a! Tak-a-bish-a!” and we took a left turn into a dark tunnel. There was a quick drop, and we began to slowly tilt, flip over completely, and then right ourselves before seeing some light ahead. The pre-launch inversion isn’t quite as painful as the slow rolls on Hydra and Colossus, but I definitely prefer mine to be taken at speed, B&M style.

The car continues without a pause, and we take a small dip before hitting the launch section. We accelerated while in motion, so it was hard to anticipate the burst of speed, but we were quickly up to and over 60mph. The instant you’re out of the station, you begin a forceful pull up into a massive inversion, half vertical loop, half corkscrew.

It’s the first of many interesting inversions, and nothing is more out-of-the-ordinary than the next, what’s apparently called a “Banana roll”. Yes, it sounds more like sushi than a coaster maneuver, but it’s pretty wild. The car pulls up into something akin to a vertical corkscrew, and after the revolution it makes a sudden twist and dive out of it, plummeting back down to the ground. If that description doesn’t capture it well, it’s because it’s not something we’ve ever seen. It rides a little strangely, but graceful enough.

Others are just plain weird

Next you’ve got a sweepingly wide corkscrew, and then a nice twist and dive, right out of Intamin’s playbook. There’s another dip, and then you hit some brakes. This is the halfway point, and things are about to go vertical, and beyond. A U-turn in the brake house brings you to the base of a lift – which is more like the tower on Dodonpa than any lift we’ve seen before.

One of the more straightforward ways you're flipped upside-down

The train comes to complete stop, the chain slowly begins to move, and you’re soon facing the sky, climbing the vertical lift. At the peak, some 140 feet in the air, you’re taken on a controlled descent down the slope of the drop, inch by inch until you’re facing straight back down to the ground. That’s when you stop completely. And here’s where the world record supposedly comes into play. Once the train is benevolently released from the holding brakes, your car follows the track past 90 degrees, actually curving in underneath itself, relying faithfully on some serious up-stop wheels.

Now we can argue whether this is truly the steepest drop on a number of technicalities (e.g., nothing can be “more vertical” than straight down, Screaming Squirrels have a 180 degree drop according to this definition, etc.). What we won’t spend any time debating is that the element is executed perfectly and highlights that “going over the edge” feeling more than any other coaster I’ve been on. Once back up to speed, we hit a dive loop, inverting top hat, and immelman in rapid succession, hitting the brakes with still a good bit of speed left. It’s a quick left turn and we’re back into the station.

This one is a tough one to catagorize. The cars are tiny like a Wild Mouse, but the track is huge, with seven serious inversions. There is a launch, but also a lift, and the lift is vertical, with drop beyond steep. It’s got the stats to rival any Arrow or B&M mega-looper, but you get such a different sensation out of it since you’re in a single car on this expansive layout. In the end, I gave up trying to fit it into some category or another, and let it stand alone as one-of-a-kind, as least as I’ve experienced.

I’m sure Mystery Mine at Dollywood and Dare Devil Dive at SF Over Georgia give some hints as to what this type can do, but Gerstlauer really went for it with this custom design, and they’ve raised the bar for themselves. Forget about being on the map, these guys should be taken seriously, and I look forward to what they do next – even if it’s just to clone this and bring it to California. That’d be totally ok by me.

Rankings-wise, it was a bit of a challenge. Since it really stands alone, I gave it its own ride type (EuroFighter, the official model name) and didn’t lump with in with Multi-element coasters like Viper or Colossus or Dragon Kahn. I did, however, find a spot for it high in the rankings at #29, behind only a couple dozen of the most intense and enjoyable hypercoasters, inverted coasters, and other serious rides. As far as how it compares to multi-element coasters, only the aforementioned DK (#2), Kumba (#10), and Incredible Hulk (#24) are ahead of it. (Well done, B&M.) Just for reference, SF Magic Mountain’s Viper is next at #50, and Ninja at SF Over Georgia rounds out the list, at #162. (Sorry, Arrow.)

So that was that, a perfectly respectable way to hit 300 coasters. Who knows if that’ll stand, considering the occasional addition or removal based on changing definitions, but for now, this stands as the one. I’m not sure there’s really much special about this milestone, but it always seemed like a particular high water mark for enthusiasts. Of course there are those at 500, 1000, or whatever, but I figure I have a long time to see more parks and ride more rides. I’m really in no rush.

A busy midway

Having hit all the major coasters, I was able to relax a bit, especially after the 2+ hour wait. We skipped a couple walk-through attractions, as well as an interactive scavenger hunt-type attraction, and made our way to the Ferris Wheel. We found two separate queues, each with just a couple people, but soon noticed the one we randomly picked moved a lot slower. There was no indication in English, but it seemed as though that first one might have been for a special car.

Unlike your usual amusement park wheel, it didn’t load in sections one by one, and then give everyone a few cycles. Instead the wheel rotated slowly, but never stopped. Your ride was one revolution, and in the end it seemed like this was the way to go. The ride was at least a long, and it was a lot more conducive to enjoying the view and snapping photos at this slower place. At times, it was hard to tell that we were moving at all.

About as cute a ride as exists

A nice, scenic layout

While aboard, we spotted the final coaster in the park (minus the kids-only Thomas Train one), and headed there right as we exited. Officially called “Fuwa Fuwa Osora No Dai-Bouken,” or, I kid you not, “Great Adventure in the Sky” (gotta love Japan), it surprisingly had a lot going for it. If anything, the ride is like those rare Setpoint suspended water soaker coasters, minus all the water. Single cars fitting 2 people, bobsled style, no less, climb a 75 foot lift and crisscross above rides, trees, and midways for all of the 1500 feet of track.

We were thrilled to see a relatively short line, though confused how it didn’t seem to be moving - like at all – while the ride was still sending cars full of people. The line suddenly moved in a big chunk, and again we waited. When we were part of the big chunk, we could see how a big group of people was allowed into the station, given access to lockers, and then had to queue up again to actually be loaded. It was certainly a help to the capacity, though more space would have made the whole thing a lot less awkward.

Two at a time, riders climbed stairs and loaded their car, almost reminiscent of climbing into the boat at Peter Pan. I got in first, fastened my seatbelt, and then Megan and hers. On top of it all, a lap bar was sure to keep us safe, lest the 30 mph speeds or gentle swinging of the car prove too much for us.

It really is quite a pleasant ride; you get nice and high above things, and descend slowly with lots to look at. The ride action isn’t especially thrilling, but it’s hard not to let out a satisfied “whee” during a dip or two. It’s really the perfect chance for that, and the only real moment of unpleasantness is the sudden braking at the end. Definitely worth the 20 or 30 minute wait.

There was one more stop we wanted to make, as we saw an old-school Sky Bike ride. With an empty queue, the station operator seemed to spend more time lining the bikes up than actually loading people, so we happily walked on. For those unfamiliar, imagine a flat, elevated railway, probably less than 500 feet long, with cars propelled by two riders pedaling their hearts out. You can actually pick up some good speed, but I mostly enjoyed the scenery below and the suspended coaster above and our ride was over in short order. Ride these if you get the chance, they won’t be around much longer.

The park certainly a few more things to offer – a Screaming Swing-type ride, a raft ride right out of Rollercoaster Tycoon, complete with shrine, a shoot-the-chutes boat ride, and probably a few others. Really, we didn’t go very far out of way to discover any other attractions, other than our strolls through the park and a few glances at the translated map.

You really can get right up under this thing

It was approaching 6pm, and we felt like we had made a good tour of the place, and didn’t feel inclined to revisit or cram anything else in. We did take a climb up the park’s fake mountain, found inside the helix of Dodonpa, and that provided some terrific views. But, with two hours until closing, we soon headed towards the exit.

As it turns out, we wouldn’t have had a chance to revisit anything even if we wanted to. We had been hearing occasional announcements over the park’s PA system for a while now, and while not understanding much, we did catch the names of a few of the big coasters. Our suspicion was that they were announcing early closing times for the queues. We had seen a few indications of this at ride entrances, where the closing time was listed; most closed between 5:30pm and 6pm. Considering the two hour waits, it looked like that the employees would be out of there right around closing time, 8pm.

Our escape obviously came much sooner, and as dusk approached, I took a couple of shots of Eejanieka, really reveling in how ridiculously close you can get to it, and then we were on our way. We had no idea how long we’d have to wait for a train, but we left the park via the gift shop, and checked the train schedule. The next train was at 6:01pm, and we had all of two minutes to go. Good thing we got those round trip tickets in advance. Back to Kawaguchi Station in a few moments, we handed in our tickets as we exited and took the scenic walk back to our ryokan - with a quick Family Mart dinner stop, of course.

Definitely plenty worth seeing in addition to the park

We had another day to explore the environs – taking a gondola ride up one of the nearby peaks, exploring shrines while hiking down, circumnavigating a sizable portion of our nearby lake, and even indulging in the centuries-old hot spring culture at the onsen. It was a little awkward, but it’s not like anyone there knew me. We’d be on our way back to Tokyo the next day, had another 48 hours to sightsee there, and then we were back across the Pacific to the wonderfully mild climate of the Bay Area. I was never so happy to see marine fog.

Our day at Fuji-Q Highland had certainly been a success. The waits were painful and the capacities were low, but it was hard to blame it on the attentive and diligent, not to mention plentiful, ride operators. Really, a few changes to station configurations and loading procedures, and you’d be looking at much more bearable hourly throughputs. Either way, the employees were all quite solid, and we enjoyed the hospitality. This was not a Six Flags type of gripe with employees, and really the only Six Flags moment of frustration came with the excessive line jumping during the marathon wait for Takabisha.

The park itself is nice enough. It’s smaller than you might think, and a little rundown or neglected in places, but not really dirty or anything. The landscaping is nice, and there are a few groves of trees, but the real impressive natural features are the lush mountains and green hillsides that surround the town, and of course the park’s monumental namesake – which decided not to make an appearance at any point during our visit.

But what drew us to the place, the ridiculous coasters, completely lived up to the hype. The collection, while not large, is beyond diverse, and, really, each is a landmark in its own right. They’re record breakers, the first or second of a kind, and all simply impressive feats of amusement engineering. That’s what makes this place so special, and I’m thrilled to have gotten a chance to visit – even if I missed Moonsault Scramble by over a decade.

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