There's just something incredibly cool about mine train coasters, and I've never quite been able to put my finger on it. Maybe it's the excitement of diving into abandoned mine shafts, a naturally thrilling location on its own. Perhaps it's the western and wilderness aesthetics, with lead themselves to rich and nostalgic theming. Maybe it's turning the familiar sight of a train running down tracks into something wild and pulse-pounding. Or maybe it's a particular affinity for tight bends and short, rapid hills, which tend to be a hallmark of the style.
It's probably all of that, but I think it's also partly that a mine train coaster never ends up being just a rollercoaster. They are typical heavily themed mine experiences first, with the rollercoaster being the apparatus to get you around the setting. They're all great -- at least every version I've seen -- but, at least in the US, Magic Kingdom holds the best.
When I talked about Seven Dwarfs Mine Train, I cited an article from FoxxFur about the Matterhorn that had a lot of excellent things to say. One of those, I think, is particularly relevant to Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, as well when she says, "I don't much care for roller coasters. I love the Matterhorn not at all because it's a coaster, but because it's an amazing experience, and there's only one of them in the world."
Now, I differ from Foxx in that I do much care for rollercoasters, but I still think she's completely right that an experience outweighs a pure coaster standing on its own. That's true of the Matterhorn, that's true of Mine Tain, it's true of a few more entries yet to come, and it's exceptionally true of Thunder. The runaway train in the Magic Kingdom stakes its claim as one of the greatest attractions ever made because of how it uses the thrill of a rollercoaster to take you on a tour of a fully detailed setting befitting a Disney park.
I think it's a testament to Thunder that it was designed with the terrain in mind first, and rollercoaster elements second. The main thing it wants is to show you its mountain, and this also works for the track lay out to make (relative to a theme park ride) sense.
Boy does the mountain have some cool things for you to see, too. For those who don't know, a lot of the visual gags of Thunder Mountain saw their start with the 1956 Disneyland attraction Rainbow Caverns Mine Train, and its successor, Mine Train Through Nature's Wonderland. They were peaceful train rides through a highly-detailed western desert, covered in Marc Davis comedy, very similar to, say, a western version of the Jungle Cruise. The trains passed through colorful caves, under tumbling rocks, through western boom towns, and around amusing critters, which all sounds very familiar.
Taking from its spiritual predecessor, the Railroad goes past sites that would be absolutely gorgeous even if they were just part of a tame dark ride. It all starts from the approach, looking at a tall, narrow rock mesa, and winding up a detailed path full of abandoned mining supplies and running water, you are trained from the start to look around because there are details everywhere.
The ride's first act is a gorgeous cavern full of rainbow springs and active bats, before you're taken up a lift and through a rushing waterfall. Stop and ponder how absolutely lovely this whole room is; what other coaster gives you so much to look at as you travel up its lift hill. Thunder Mountain is, right from the get go, taking you to an exciting and beautiful place, while also building anticipation for its excitement.
This excitement and this beauty works hand-in-hand on Thunder. As rollercoasters go, its thrills are tame, but they are enhanced quite a bit when you are constantly trying to get a look at a scenic item while hitting hills, dropping into helixes, and dipping in and out of caves, you cross through a flooded boom town, where a dude peacefully floats around outside in his bathtub while a train screams past. You take a turn around a big horned sheep, and pass under possums doing gymnastics on tree branches. You survive a collapsing mine, only to discover a t-rex skeleton in an active hot spring field. You watch other trains similarly careen out of control on other sections of track. At every point, the track is designed to feel like it is a railroad built along the rocks of the west, not a rollercoaster built just to be a rollercoaster sitting high above the ground.
At another point, outer bank -- the track term, not the geographical term -- whips you around the backside of the mountain and over the Rivers of America. A little more than a week ago, I called this, "one of the most relaxing moments you can get in the park," when talking about the Liberty Square Riverboat, but for this attraction it's one of the most wild. It's as though you are being slung out beyond the bounds of the attraction, only to be pulled back in by gravity; perhaps for some it feels like escape is coming, while for others it feels like you've gone too far to be safe. In any case, as the iconic train whistle plays and fades threateningly in the distance, it's an incredible example of how Thunder works as a tour of the area while laying out its thrills. If you're lucky, you'll hit this edge-of-your-ride moment right as the Riverboat travels by -- enjoying its peaceful vibes while you sling by screaming -- and probably also some kids are shooting fake guns at you from Fort Langhorn. It's a wonderful juxtaposition as three different attractions with three different levels of energy share the same glorious space for a brief moment.
One of my favorite quirks of the mountains in the Magic Kingdom is that Thunder was designed for the Kingdom, but opened in Disneyland first as building Space Mountain took priority. Meanwhile, Space had been designed for Disneyland, but opened in Magic Kingdom first. I just think that's neat.
The entire convoluted, cross-coast design history of those two mountains is amusing. Going even farther back, Thunder was originally meant to be part of a much larger complex called Thunder Mesa that never got built. The mine train concept, though, survived and was expanded upon. When Tony Baxter was designing his geography to wrap his mine train around, he benchmarked Monument Valley in Utah, and the real world inspiration shines in the layout.
On a personal note, I absolutely love the American Southwest, where I've spent a bulk of my life, and so Thunder in a way feels like home. When playing through Horizon: Zero Dawn -- which takes place in the ruins of the American West -- I spent hours just stopping and staring at the Monument Valley area, thinking, "hey! This is Thunder Mountain!" That's a testament to how great a job Baxter and his team did in designing their geography, and the rollercoaster around it makes the most of that, allowing the land to truly be the star.
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