Look out, Veltman - I've got a new love

I love the weightlessness that blossoms in the pit of my stomach. I love the second-long levitation of my body from the seat. I love the new surprise that each small drop brings, making me grip the bar. I even love the shrieks of glee from coworkers. I love old roller coasters.

Yesterday my team had an off-site at the Santa Cruz boardwalk, which is a trip and a throwback to being in high school and being bored during the summers. We played some mini-golf, had lunch on the beach, and rode the Giant Dipper. It's an old roller coaster in the best sense - wooden, rumbling, a thrill. There are no flips or gimmicks, and there don't need to be; the Dipper gets your heart pumping without a lot of bells and whistles. The ride begins with a series of twists and turns in pitch-black, starting the flow of adrenaline as you begin the climb to the first big drop. From there on out it's a constant up-and-down, bumping, screaming, rushing crowd pleaser that's as simple as it is effective.

I love the Dipper, as I love the Grizzly at Great America or the Colossus at Magic Mountain (my personal favorite). I got started on roller coasters later than some kids, and I still don't enjoy rides that toss you around like a sack of Valencia oranges, but I will always have a special place in my heart for the classic coasters.

Later on in the day we moved on to Ciao!Bella!!, a quirky restaurant tucked away in the woods off of Highway 9, north of Santa Cruz. This place is overflowing with character, in the same vein as the Buca di Beppo restaurant chain, but with a lot more homey flavor. We sat outside, surrounded by towering redwoods and a variety of strange outdoor decor. The Italian food was excellent, beginning with garlic bread smothered in mozzarella cheese and ending with light, delicate tiramisu in chocolate sauce. The conversation was lively and random (including our team-building exercises: prying into coworkers' personal lives, accusations of lying, and general mocking).

I'd like to visit again, but I'm not sure when. Where else can you see bellydancing in the forest, next to a dreadlocked, life-size image of Fred Flintstone? If there's another place you can think of, let me know.