The loop.

The ride starts slowly chugging forward on the triangular steel tracks, it is at this point you realize that you really did not want to ride it at all.
In fact it terrifies you, petrifies, strikes hard and deep in the muscles in your gut. Why did I ever get on? what was I thinking? Why did I listen to them? I knew this was a bad idea! Too late, halfway up the metallic mountain, you tug frantically at your seatbelt and chest guard making absolute sure they are on tight and secure. The two men behind you joke about the ride derailing or catching fire. To them it sounds light hearted and fun, but to you, a prophesy of the rise of Satan, flashes of your life fly through your mind, your hands slip on the handle drenched in your sweat. The ride creaks to a grinding halt at the very tip of, in your eyes, Everest. You see the winding maze of interlocking, interwoven, and interconnected tracks below. Other cars on the track whiz by the intersections inches away from colliding. You blackout. You are walking up some stairs now, location unknown, but inside you have this feeling, like you are close, that whatever is at the top of the stairs is going to... a wave of relief seems to flow over you. You wake back up, hands shaking from gripping the handlebars so tight, the car begins its crazed decent through the tracks labyrinth, as it accelerates you feel yourself relax. The once monstrous machine of gears and twists now looks to you no different then a flight of stairs.