Long ago, legend tells, an ancient civilization of unfathomable knowledge and power was doomed by the gods and swallowed by the ocean’s tide. “In a single day and night of misfortune,” Plato spoke in his Critias dialogues over two thousand years ago, “the island of Atlantis disappeared in the depths of the sea.”
It turns out that Plato’s tale of Atlantis’ fall was merely a prologue. In the thousands of years since, academics, explorers, and adventurers have set out into the surf, intent on discovering the secrets of the lost continent… And since 1998, voyages into the remains of Atlantis have departed from none other than SeaWorld Orlando.
One little spark of inspiration is at the heart of all creation. A dream can be a dream-come-true with just that spark from me and you! Alight with wonder, these words were a celebration of optimism, creativity, and joy when they were sung by heroes of EPCOT Center’s early years – the enigmatic Dreamfinder and his imaginative companion, Figment. But when the very creativity this EPCOT classic set out to inspire fell by the wayside, something truly disastrous emerged…
Today, we want to dive deep into the story of a ride that was already loved by a generation and celebrated as a living example of Imagineering’s best… until Disney (literally) tore out its character resulting in one of the most despised and (thankfully) short-lived Disney attractions ever.
It can only be the story behind Epcot’s depressingly unimaginitive Journey into Your Imagination. Although it was only open for two years, the infamy of this debilitating disaster has made it a laughing stock, even for those who never had the chance to see it in person. Short-lived, short-sighted, and plain-old shortened, this dark ride proved to be more of a death than a rebirth.
Humans have spent much of their modern history trying to take to the skies, and for nearly as long, theme parks have sought to create the seemingly impossible sensation of soaring. From the gentle charm of sailing over London on Peter Pan’s Flight to the breathless, tear-jerking wonder of AVATAR Flight of Passage, engineers have come a long way in granting humanity the power of flight. But once in a while, they get it wrong.
But if you ask many Imagineering insiders, one attraction stands among the pantheon of tone-deaf “upgrades.” An attraction with crude jokes, regrettable humor, and dated 90s style already spells disaster.
Now imagine that these unfortunate ingredients were forced into a beloved classic dating back to Walt himself – one of the few Walt Disney World attractions to bear his direct influence. It may sound unlikely, but just ask those who experienced The Enchanted Tiki Room: Under New Management, the too-long-lived overlay of a timeless classic. Why did this happen? How? Today, we’ll find out. But of course, there’s just one place to start.
Imagine a roller coaster so rough, its first riders told the news that they’d “need a new spine” afterwards. Imagine that the feedback on this multi-million dollar roller coaster was so consistantly negative that engineers literally rebuilt a section of track just to try to save the ride from being universally despised. Imagine that despite all their best efforts, the park determined that there was quite literally nothing that could be done to save the ride, tearing it down after just a few years.
It may sound surreal, but this almost-unbelievable tale is only the start of our story today as we explore one of the most short-lived and poorly-received roller coasters ever and the scar it left on one of the world’s most beautiful parks.
When the wint’ry winds start blowing and the snow is starting in the fall, then my eyes head westward knowing that’s the place that I love best of all… California, here I come, right back where I started from! Where bowers of flowers bloom in the spring! Each morning at dawning birdies sing and everything! A sun kissed miss said “Don’t be late!” That’s why I can hardly wait. Open up that Golden Gate! California, here I come!”
When Disney’s ode to the Golden State opened in February 2001, it was supposed to change Disneyland forever. All at once, this second theme park – built right on the land that had been its older sister’s parking lot for 45 years – was meant to transform Walt’s original Anaheim property into a multi-day destination rivaling Walt Disney World in tourism and international appeal. Instead, it failed.
That’s exactly where our story began in Disney California Adventure: Part I – our in-depth exploration into the frustration-filled design and flawed development of Disney’s first “New Millennium” theme park. Sure, the park was “too much California, not enough Disney.” It was short on rides. It had practically nothing for families. But even Imagineers’ attempts to bolster the park’s weak spots with “Band-Aid” attractions in the mid-2000s proved that California Adventure’s issues ran deeper than ride counts… and any real fix for the park would need to address its broken foundation…
Today, in Part II of our deep dive into Disneyland’s infamous second gate, we’ll stand before the soaring, art deco towers of the Pan-Pacific and set off to explore the unprecedented process – and walk through the unbelievable outcomes – of a $1.2 billion master plan to fix California Adventure’s foundational flaws and design a true companion and complement to Disneyland… Open up your Golden Gate; California, here we come!
When you think of Disney, you may think of the storied, golden years of animation heralded by Walt himself; of today’s international media conglomerate acquiring Marvel, Star Wars, Pixar, and more; you may imagine the world’s leading theme parks with fairytale castles at their center, or pirates, princesses, and parades. One thing that you probably don’t associate with Disney? Failure.
When Disney’s California Adventure opened in 2001, it was meant to be the park that would thrust Disneyland into the 21st century, finally establishing Walt’s “original magic kingdom” as just one piece of a multi-day international resort destination. Instead, the park became one of the most infamous failures in Disney Parks’ history. Underbuilt, underfunded, and creatively-starved, California Adventure lacked the kinds of rides, characters, stories, and settings that Disneyland’s generations of local visitors had come to expect. And unlike the rare box office bust, this problem wouldn’t disappear with time…
Wouldn’t it be nice to take a break from the everyday and escape to the magic of Disney? To sail the high seas with pirates, encounter extraterrorestrial creatures, and blast baddies with Buzz Lightyear? Millions of visitors flock to Disneyland and Walt Disney World every year, but the flight! The rental car! The hotel room! Those priceless experiences sure do come at a steep price…
But what if instead of needing to move heaven and earth to bring your family and friends to Disney’s theme parks, Disney brought its theme parks to you? What if every metropolitan area across the country could host its own Disney theme park…? One that would redefine Disney’s role in regional entertainment, connect millions of guests to its brand, and serve as an evolving testing grounds for the technologies of a new millennium?
DisneyQuest started its life as a radical new concept in what “Disney” could mean – a 21st century experiment in mass-producing modular, urban theme park experiences that made their cutting edge technologies the starring act. Two decades later, it ended its life as an abandoned arcade, left to rot in plain sight. The story of Disney’s too-long-lived “indoor, interactive theme park” is as weird as the concept itself: a ’90s time capsule of a “so-bad-it’s-good” experiment gone awry.
DisneyQuest was – by most accounts – a failure. Worse, its decaying corpse remained, looming over Downtown Disney (and criminally, still charging admission) for decades. Yet somehow, this strange sanctum of digital experiences had a hypnotic hold on ’90s kids, who hold the mystery of DisneyQuest as a formative memory. What awaited within the big blue box rising over Downtown Disney’s electric West Side? Plug in and let’s explore…
Ready to rocket through the stars on a high speed roller coaster into space? Then you’ve come to the wrong place. Here at Park Lore, we’re creating a library of Lost Legends, telling the in-depth stories behind beloved-and-lost attractions whose stories are simply unforgettable.
But we have no shortage of unforgivable rides, rides, either… And today we’re telling the tale of a roller coaster so odd, its name actually gave away how laughable the experience became. Disaster Transport at Cedar Point was a rare miss at the “Roller Coaster Capital of the World,” creatively abandoned for all to see.
Today, we’ll try to piece together all we know about this Star Tours / Space Mountain rip-off roller coaster that almost instantly degraded into an in-the-dark letdown with practically none of its $4 million special effects left in tact, changing the course of seasonal theme parks forever. What waited inside the mysterious reaches of Disaster Transport’s space race? Let’s start at the beginning…
“Explaining a joke is like dissecting a frog. You understand it better, but the frog dies in the process.” – E.B. White
If you ask Imagineers or executives, story is what’s at the heart of Disney today, best embodied by its theme parks. And it’s true that the scale and scope of Imagineering in the 21st century – largely bolstered by story – had grown beyond imagination, yielding an era of “Living Lands” supported by massive mythologies and built-out worlds. Story directs the food, characters, and even souvenirs of Hogsmeade, Batuu, Pandora, and beyond…
Yet for all the deeply-rooted environmental-and-atmospheric stories unfolding in the “Living Lands” admired today, story is also the foundation of – and possibly, the fault in – a project often ranked among “the worst Disney Parks land ever“: Chester & Hester’s Dino-Rama. Today, we’ll dig deep into this cringe-worthy carnival to prove once and for all that there’s more than meets the eye to this primeval parking lot fair…