As I stepped inside, the Ferris Wheel ride operator closed the stable door behind me, and the basket slowly cradled back and forth while I got situated.
The ride started to move up and out, and I instinctually gripped the center pole and started to pray to my God…. I was sure I was going to die. I mean, I have avoided so many death-defying foibles since my triple-play of strokes, but I was sure this was the absolute transgression that would send me into oblivion...
Over the weekend, the Wheeler District celebrated the tenth anniversary of its reclaimed and recycled Ferris wheel.
Originally located on the Santa Monica Pier, local rich guy Grant Humphreys won the wheel on eBay in 2008 for $132,400, restored it, and moved it to OKC in 2016, where it became a handy landmark for identifying the neighborhood simulation down by the river.
Sadly, I had never ridden OKC’s iconic wheel, mostly because of my fear of enclosed spaces in an airborne-like tube that I have no absolute control over. Sure, call me a pansy, but if I am going to crash into the hard ground, I hope it's not from a hundred feet in the air!
With the 10-year anniversary celebration under way, I figured it was finally time to visit the Wheeler District Ferris Wheel, 1701 S. Western Ave., and face my fears. I arrived with my wife on a sunny afternoon, parking near the entrance.
My anxiety rising as we approached, I needed to relax for a moment before the big ride. I went to the first food truck, Sunny Sips, and immediately downed a 32-ounce cup of their Berry Blast lemonade ($8.00), spiking it with a few Dramamine drops to curb my rising nausea and other dastardly symptoms of induced fear.
After paying for two day passes ($12.00 each), we slowly started down the long path to the Ferris Wheel. As the words of John Lydon beckoned to me—"May the road rise with you… may the road rise with you…”—I summoned all the courage I could muster.
Past the bored dude in a pirate costume making impressive balloon animals, a somewhat standard bounce castle for the kids, and food trucks that offered barbecue sandwiches and grilled burgers, we eventually made our way to the Ferris Wheel.
The seasoned operator was a teen girl with a summer job and a real future ahead of her—not, as I truly feared, a 56-year-old tweaker with a bad attitude and a cigarette behind his ear. This was no fly-by-night, pop-up fair situation. She gently advised us of the safety rules of the wheel, which I agreed to despite not hearing one word over the psychosomatic ringing in my tender ears.
My wife, always looking out for me, held my hand as we approached the ride. No backing out now, I told myself. Moments later I was clamped onto the center pole for dear life, anticipating the end of it.
As the Wheel lurched upward, I somehow mastered a one-handed death-grip while snapping occasional pictures. As my clammy palm tightened, I gazed upon the wonder that is the corpse-friendly Oklahoma River and then, far beyond that, the Oklahoma City skyline looking like a postcard.
Even though I made sure to stay scared, it was a pretty breathtaking view that I was glad to realistically capture in my memory banks. After nine or 10 spins around the Ferris Wheel, I motioned to the operator that we were ready to go.
Though it took a few seconds to acquire my base equilibrium, I wobbled out of the carriage and back down to the ground. Falling to my knees, I kissed the dirty ground in gratitude for being back in my natural earth-based, non-aerial habitat.
Afterwards, we walked down the lawn to find a shady spot where hammocks were set up. Still light on my feet, I sat down in it and, regrettably, went backwards and spun onto the ground, eating dirt in copious amounts.
But I was alright. I was on the ground.
Repositioning myself, I tried again and finally found the sweet spot I had been desiring. Reflecting from the hammock on the past hour... sure, I did not die (I don’t think), and the view of Oklahoma City was pretty amazing. Honestly, I am glad I did it so I never have to do it again.
Go ride it—just don’t forget the Dramamine.
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
