THE GOODS : Joy Rides : Faster. Loopier. Roller coasters are roaring back, giving family fun a little edge

Forget the Peter Pan ride and the photo op with Snoopy. It’s thrill time at many amusement parks.

Roller coasters are back and the battle’s on “for the fastest highest scariest ride,” says Susan Mosedale, spokeswoman for the International Assn. of Amusement Parks and Attractions in Alexandria, Va.

The thrills are also safe, or they wouldn’t be amusement.

“It is scary,” says UCLA student Andrea White, 23, fresh from riding Six Flags Magic Mountain’s Viper, which “plastered” her face to her head. “But that’s what makes you laugh--because you know nothing’s going to happen.”

Of course not. But when amusements have such names as Raptor, Vortex and Shock Wave, and toss people upside-down at 60 m.p.h., you might well ask if the fright isn’t justified.

The new rides mark the return of roller coasters in a new high-tech incarnation.

“The golden age of amusement parks was in the ‘20s and ‘30s,” says Ron Toomer, president of Arrow Dynamics in Clearfield, Utah, the country’s leading ride manufacturer. There were 1,500 wood roller coasters then, compared to 200 or 300 coasters of all kinds now in the United States, he says.

The Depression took its toll, and postwar development took a lot of prime park land. In the ‘50s, Disney resuscitated the park concept with the theme park, which is not heavy on thrills.

“We were all going for clean, safe family entertainment, modeling ourselves after Disneyland,” says Robin Innes, spokesman for Cedar Point amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio. “That meant a decline of interest in roller coasters.”

Not everyone prospered. Magic Mountain almost went under trying to compete as a park themed with unattractive trolls.

Thrill rides came back with a roar and some new twists in the mid ‘70s. Magic Mountain has revived as Southern California’s only thrill-ride park with nine roller coasters and half a dozen water plunges. Cedar Point, almost razed in the ‘50s, built the largest ride park in the world--56 rides, 11 of them coasters.

All coasters, new or old, follow the same principle: You take something up a hill and let gravity take it down. The pattern of descent today, however, given the flexibility of new tubular steel tracks gripped by multiple nylon wheels, provides twists and loops only dreamed of in the days of the Coney Island woodie, which plunged down a series of smaller and smaller hills, interspersed with long curves and slow climbs.

The new generation of design was born with Arrow Dynamics’ Corkscrew rides for Knott’s and Cedar Point in 1975 and 1976. Toomer describes these as “a pulled-out spiral laying on its side, with two upside-down elements.”

Next came vertical loops with the track running inside, then suspended coasters with the seats hanging down below the track, then cobra rolls (a loop with twists) and boomerangs, then “inverted” loops with tracks running around the outside. Magic Mountain’s Viper has three vertical loops, a corkscrew and a double-barrel boomerang, turning riders upside-down seven times.

They’re fast--up to 70 m.p.h. They’re also the shortest coaster rides ever, about two minutes, sometimes less. They have to rake in the customers--as many as 2,000 riders an hour. After all, Toomer says, “they cost a lot of money.” And two minutes, he adds, is “about all you can take.”

Actually, few people get sick on these thrillers, partly because “it’s over so quickly,” says Jim Seay, Magic Mountain’s engineering manager. The ride is smooth, given the bendable steel, the speed, the dynamics and the bucket seats and over-the-shoulder restraints holding the body in place.

Some riders find the new coasters less scary than the old. “You’re going forward so fast, you don’t feel like you’re falling,” says Lionel Johnson, 13, of Los Angeles, on a visit to Magic Mountain.

“It’s totally controlled, while the wood ones give you a sense of going down a long drop, like you’re on your own,” says his friend, Nicholas Trikonis, 12.

Today’s coaster aficionados--and there are several national clubs of fans--can describe the “maximum Gs” or gravity forces of a ride (the pressure that pushes riders into their seats, usually while coming out of a trough), or the “zero Gs” or weightlessness of another (usually coming off an apex). They have fine perceptions. They claim coasters run faster on hot days because their lubricants thin out. “You’re talking about small amounts of time,” Seay says, “but the transitions, as you go into a curve, do feel different.”

What you needn’t feel is unsafe. Over the two decades from 1973 through 1992, 94 deaths on all rides, not just coasters, were reported to the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, an average of fewer than five a year.

Some accidents were problems of maintenance or operation--poorly secured restraints, colliding cars, inattentive attendants. But others involved what CPSC project officer James DeMarco calls “patron error,” the unanticipated dangerous behavior of riders who were foolish or drunk.

Consumers get some official protection. The CPSC has jurisdiction over mobile carnivals, its activity being more oversight than regular inspections, particularly in states that regulate carnivals. Fixed-site parks are under state jurisdiction, and only some states conduct inspections.

The state of California does not inspect parks, but some local authorities do. Los Angeles County’s Department of Public Works, Building and Safety division regularly inspects park rides and maintenance. Orange County, site of two major parks, Disneyland and Knott’s, does not, leaving the industry to self-regulate.

The big fixed-site parks do self-regulate, whether or not they have thrill rides, following, at a minimum, standards set by the American Society for Testing and Materials and endorsed by their trade group, the International Assn. of Amusement Parks and Attractions. They tend to do a lot more than the minimum, not wanting any incidents to mar their records: “The consequence of such negative publicity is the biggest insurance of all,” says Knott’s spokesman Bob Ochsner.”

Moreover, fixed-site coasters are increasingly high-tech installations, engineered like high-performance aircraft and operated by computers--not just one, but often two that operate independently, Seay says--”but both run the ride, recognizing where the trains are at any given time, and what they’re doing. If at any point they disagree, the ride goes into shutdown, although the trains continue to a safe stopping point.”

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At Magic Mountain, Seay says, there’s extensive self-inspection in addition to the county’s inspection. Magic Mountain maintenance crews walk tracks before the park opens. If the track’s unwalkable, they climb the structure at various points. Operations people take the first rides.

Seat restraints are crucial, “ensuring that the rider stays in the right position,” Seay says. Padded steel tubing comes down over the shoulders; bars or belts cross the lap; there are headrests and handholds. Who can ride is dictated by height, not age--commonly a 48-inch minimum (age 6 or 7), 54 inches for more turbulent rides. Parks warn off pregnant women and people with back or heart problems.

Smaller children are prohibited, Toomer says, not because they’d fall out, but “because the orthopedic guys tell us they don’t have the proper neck muscles to control their heads.” There’s also a size maximum on a per-case basis; Earvin (Magic) Johnson was taken off Cedar Point’s Mine Ride because the lap bar couldn’t close on him.

A restraint has to be locked to work; a latch must be secured. And trained personnel should be checking that they are before the ride starts.

Accident reports show children have slipped out of restraints and jumped off various rides, including roller coasters. Parents should judge whether their children are mature enough to ride and be sure they understand the rules. Today’s restraints may rein in much rider misbehavior, but the fact is, “if you tried hard enough, you could get out,” Innes says.