An Acrophobic's Adventures Atop the Stratosphere in Las Vegas

In my last missive, my story of the Journey From Hell that was my first-ever trip to Las Vegas, I mentioned I had visited the Stratosphere while there and said that was a story for another time. Well, this is that time.

"We're going to go to the top of that in a while, Mom", my son said as we passed the tallest building I'd ever seen in my lifetime. Those words haunted me the whole time we explored the Las Vegas Strip, and even the wonderland of lights, sounds, and people wasn't enough to quell the fear growing inside me as we drove along. Don't get me wrong, I was awestruck by the sights and sounds around me, and being a small town girl most of my life probably made the experience even more wondrous for me, but every few seconds along the way the thought "I'm going to have to go up higher than I've ever been in my life!" came crawling across my brain, and the shivers of fear that came with it each time grew more and more unbearable.

I am an acrophobic - a person with an abnormal fear of heights - and I can't even sit in the balcony section of a theater without having to hold on to the seat for fear of flying right over the barriers and ending up on the floor below.....or in someone's lap. Either choice is not something I care to experience, so I avoid balconies at all costs. My kids know this very well, which makes my son's insistence that I ignore that fear and willingly ascend into the heavens above even more confusing for me. I know he loves me, I kept telling myself, so why is he trying to scare the bejeebers out of me the first time I've left my home town in more years than I can count? It was a mystery I could find no sane answer for, so, while I wanted to dig in my heels, say "NO, NO, NO, I'm not going up there!", and stay in the car in the parking structure, I went along meekly, dreading every step.

We entered the doors into the beautiful casino, and the sight and sounds of the One-armed Bandits whirring, dinging, and flashing brightly on every side as we passed seemed to beckon to me to stay with them, to waste some money with them instead of putting my life at risk 1,100 feet up in the air. I wanted nothing more than to plop my ample backside down on one of the stools and start shoving dollars in by the handful, telling my son and his fiancee to go on and have fun, I want to try my luck here. I didn't do that, however. Ever the loving mother trying to do whatever it takes to make my kids happy, I followed meekly along to what I assumed was my inevitable death plunge to the pavement below, hoping the city had a street cleaner large enough to take care of the mess I'd leave behind when I did. As my death march continued, I longingly watched the flashing, whirring, bell-ringing machines, wishing again that I could find safety in their buttons and dials instead of heading toward what surely would be the worst experience of my life.

We passed Roxy's, a cute little fifties-style eatery, where the waitresses dress like they're headed for a sock-hop and stop to sing old-time favorites or twirl hoola hoops for the diner's entertainment. The poster outside advertising the Stratosphere Ice Cream Sundae for $7.25 almost shocked me back into reality, but as we moved along, it was forgotten in the constant clutter of thoughts running through my mind, thoughts like "Oh, my God, what am I doing? Run, fool, run!", and "I wonder if I could manage to get lost somehow before we reach the elevator?" Words cannot express the fear and dread I was being smothered by as we walked on, but suffice it to say, my mind was not allowing me to sail through this ordeal easily. However, stepping into the elevator managed to take care of it very nicely.

I'm used to driving fast. I live in California, after all, and it's either drive fast or get out of the way out here, so speed is not something I'm unaccustomed to, at least in a car. This elevator was something beyond that, however. I'm not sure how fast it was going in mph, but we went up 108 stories in 37 seconds, and I'm fairly certain God never meant for humans to move that fast in a box on a pulley. I think I had to have been two inches shorter when I stepped off that thing than I was when I got on, and I know my ears were still dancing a jig, trying to find the right adjustment level for the elevation they now found themselves at, but at least the cacophony of fearful thoughts I'd been carrying with me since I knew my fate was sealed had stopped. Once again on solid ground, I managed to keep from falling to my knees to kiss it and moved along behind my son, wondering what I'd find, and how I'd cope once I found it. And then I came out of a little opening and saw a wall of glass all around, and there were all those lights that had so amazed me since I first saw them on the ride into town. All other thoughts were lost in that view.

Before I knew it, I was right beside the windows, looking out over the world's biggest Christmas light display, or so it seemed. I was looking straight down, too, at the buildings below, and a helicopter flew along below me, looking like a child's toy! The casinos which had looked so huge while driving by them seemed to have been shrunk to a tiny fraction of their original size, and while I could see car lights on the streets, I couldn't make out the individual cars themselves. I was mesmerized, and all fears simply vanished the instant I saw the vista before me. I walked around the observation deck, seeing the city from all sides in a way I'd never thought possible without being in an airplane, and felt I never wanted to leave. I thought this must be what the view from heaven is like, without having to move the clouds aside.

As I stood there looking down the Strip, and wondering just which casinos I was looking at, the deck began to shake and there was a rumbling noise at the same time. Being a Californian, I figured it to be an earthquake, and wondered just how sturdy this thing was. Suddenly I saw, hanging right outside the observation deck window, what appeared to be a car from a roller coaster, just hanging there bouncing, with the people inside screaming like banshees. Good Lord, I thought, what on earth has happened now? As quickly as it had come down, it went back up, which I found strange, but within a couple of seconds it was back, and I began to realize this was planned, it wasn't a horrible accident I'd had the misfortune to be a witness too. Looking around, I found a poster showing there are three rides on the top of the tower, and one of them is the roller coaster ride from hell that I'd just witnessed. My son had seen it, too, and within a few minutes we were headed back to the elevator to take the ride up to the 109th floor, the open-air deck.

As much as I'd enjoyed the enclosed deck below, this was even more fantastic. Cold, but fantastic. The view was even clearer, The air was fresh and clean, and the stars overhead only joined the lights below to make an even grander and more beautiful light display. People with cameras were everywhere, but most especially in the areas where they could get a good view of the rides. Now, to my mind, anyone who'd get on any of those rides would have to have a death wish or a screw loose, maybe both, but there was no shortage of people to ride them. I was fascinated by them, that much I can tell you, but as far as actually getting on one and taking the plunge....no pun intended....not in this lifetime. Now, my son and his girlfriend, that's another story. Before I knew it, they had disappeared back inside, heading toward the ticket sellers with money in hand. The next time I saw him, he was stepping up to the roller coaster, looking as if he were ready to get on. However, he never showed up on the thing. It turns out they'd gotten on, but something about the locking mechanism didn't work so they went on the big ride instead.

Now, the three rides on top of the Stratosphere are the roller coaster I've described, which is on the Strip side of the building, the swing, which is on the opposite side, and a huge ring of seats that goes up and down the pole on top of the thing, the one I call the big ride. The swings are five seats (at least I think it was five, it was hard to tell), kind of like the Parachute rides you see in carnivals, that move out over the edge of the building and spin around over the city below. The big ride, as I said, goes up and down the pole, but does it at speeds that pretty much knock your socks off. Any way you look at it, these rides are not for the meek at heart, and, in my opinion, not for the sound of mind, either. I guess if I had to choose one to ride or die I'd choose the big one, because at least if it falls, you'd land on the roof. The others would send you flying off into the night air, to land wherever the wind carried you. I'd rather they didn't have to search too hard to find what would remain of me, you know what I mean?

By the time my son was through with his ride and got back to me, we were all pretty much worn out, and we certainly were cold as ice cubes, so we decided to head back down, get a bite to eat, and head on home. I have to say, at that point I wasn't really thrilled about having to ride that elevator back to ground level, but as there was no other way to get there, off I went. The ride was no more comfortable going down than it had been going up, but once we were back down and our ears had again adjusted to the new elevation, off we went to Roxy's. I have to say the service was great, the greeter was a real sweetheart who made us feel as if we were the most important people in there, and the entertainment was fun. The food was OK, but I've had better, but all things considered, it was a fun and enjoyable dining experience. And no, we didn't get the Stratosphere Ice Cream Sundae. There's enough Scot blood in me to prevent that.

I thoroughly enjoyed my evening at the Stratosphere, and when I go back, it will definitely be the first place I visit. I recommend it to everyone reading this, and I hope you have as great a time as I did when you go. As for my acrophobia, well, I haven't tried to test whether it's actually gone or not yet, but if I had to guess I'd say that the views from 1,100 ft in the air had as much to do with my forgetting to be afraid as any kind of cure did. I simply can't wait to go back and do it all again - even the elevator ride.