Dip your toes in the chilly surf, then sample the irresistible rides
First comes the scary plunge into darkness. That’s when the shrieks begin to echo all across the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk.
Then, the incredible adrenaline rush delivered by the Giant Dipper roller coaster heightens as your train bolts from a tunnel and clickety-clacks its way skyward. There’s a merciful moment of calm — or is that dread? — as you take in an irresistible view of Monterey Bay.
But the next thing you know — oooo hhhmmm yyyygaa wwdddd! — you’re hurtling 65 feet downward before twisting, turning and rattling around a half mile of wooden track as your heart slams against the walls of your chest.
Ah, yes, the Giant Dipper. It’s a thrill you never outgrow.
Then again, you really could say that about the entire Santa Cruz boardwalk experience. It’s a place that caters to all ages — a place where cherished memories of summers past mingle comfortably with modern, selfie-ready pleasures. It’s a summer-long festival of nostalgia and seaside treats.
Of course, it helps that the boardwalk isn’t in a race to reinvent the proverbial wheel. Sure, there are the occasional cosmetic upgrades and new, scream-inducing rides (Dig the Typhoon!). But so much of this classic seaside amusement park — and its approach to fun in the sun — remains as timeless as a harmony from the Beach Boys.
The Giant Dipper? It opened in 1924. The beloved Looff Carousel, with its 73 hand-carved wooden horses? It’s been around since Taft was president. Yes, you can still stuff your face with salt-water taffy from Marini’s Candies just like your grandma did in the early 1900s. And you can still challenge your friends to a fierce, low-tech game of Skee-Ball.
For some Bay Area residents, the boardwalk is often a commuter experience. You make an early drive up snaky Highway 17, dip your toes into the chilly surf, cram in as many rides as you can, sample a few wet-and-gooey treats, and then head back home in weary contentment.
But if there’s some slack in your schedule, it’s always better to hunker down for a few days to take in the boardwalk and surrounding area. That allows you time to savor a laid-back movie night on the beach, or a free Friday concert during the festive summer season. (Yes, Papa Doo Run Run is back this summer. We told you this place is timeless.)
Some of us have reached an age where even the boardwalk’s most simple diversions are enough to put us in a happy mood. For example, we can grab a beer and a corn dog (extra mustard, please) and check out the spirited volleyball matches going on in the sand just beyond the casino arcade. Or we can choose to just gaze at the ocean and not ponder anything deeper than the leafy green seaweed.
It’s best, of course, to get to the boardwalk early — when the brisk morning air is invigorating — to observe the amusement park as it slowly yawns to life. These are the quiet hours, when the most emphatic sounds are the yelps and grunts of the lazy sea lions, congregating along the wharf.
The swirl of humanity soon
arrives, and that’s when people-watching becomes a real kick. You see pint-size children, downright giddy with excitement. Young teen couples holding hands in anticipation of their first boardwalk date without a chaperone. Valiant dads and moms loaded down with ice chests, umbrellas, towels, beach balls and tents. Smiling grandparents who recall bringing their kids here back in the day.
It all makes for one colorful tapestry of shapes, sizes, ages and backgrounds.
Something inside tells you that you could rest your bones here for hours — all dreamy-eyed and satisfied — while absorbing the sights, sounds and scents (hmm, do I detect funnel cake?). Yes, you could even weld yourself to a bench like a barnacle until the evening hours, when the boardwalk is all lit up like a sparkling Christmas tree.
Ah, but then there’s this different voice whispering in your other ear, saying that it’s time to get up and get moving. That you’ve used up your chill-out allotment — that there are shrieks in the salty air, and the Giant Dipper is calling.