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Have you ever been so scared that your knees literally shook? Have you ever been so excited that your heart raced like a hummingbird’s? Have your ever been strapped to the outside of a Greyhound bus and then shoved off a 200 foot cliff? And then wanted to do it all again? Well, friends, Atlanta's Six Flags Over Georgia has a new toy.

The next generation of Intamin-designed Gyro Drops, it stands 200 feet tall with a 161-foot plunge. This monster holds 30 hardcore adrenaline junkies in a ring-shaped rotating gondola. But there's a catch; you stand, not sit, with your lower extremities hanging freely like so much dead weight. And there's still another surprise just before you drop; the seats tilt forward 15 degrees.

But first, a little history. Our collective frenzy for free-falls began with the introduction of America's first parachute drop tower at Chicago, Illinois' defunct Riverview amusement park. Ironically, it was the forced closure of a rather mild attraction by the city's Depression-Era safety inspectors that led to the creation of Riverside's pulse-racing Pair-O-Chutes, the granddaddy of all modern U.S. vertical plunge devices.

During the course of its six-decade history, Riverview's tallest structure was a 212-foot-high skeletal column of steel first dubbed the "Eye-Ful" Tower. Guests rode a central elevator to an observation platform where they could take in a panoramic view at their leisure. Early in the 1930's, however, the city condemned the elevator and the Eye-Ful Tower was closed, remaining idle for several years. Luckily, the tower itself was perfectly sound and rather than tear it down or replace the elevator, the park's planners chose to modify the tower for a more fiendish purpose.

In 1937, two horizontal wings supporting cable lift mechanisms were added to either side of the tower. Hanging from those cables were tent-like parachutes and beneath the chutes, two-person seats. After settling onto simple benches, with nothing more than a lap restraint to hold them in, parachutists were hoisted to the top and released. For as much as 80 feet, those riders experienced a genuine free-fall before the chutes filled with air and kept them from hurtling into the ground below.

An even taller, grander version of the Pair-O-Chutes was unveiled at the New York World's Fair in 1939. The Parachute Jump stood 250 feet tall and featured not six, but twelve chutes. After its run at the Fair, the Parachute Jump moved to Coney Island's Steeplechase park, where it continued to shock and amaze. For those who might doubt how authentic the Jump's skydive was, know that the U.S. Army built its own modified Parachute Jump to put paratrooper-trainees through their paces.

Sadly, neither of these two milestones still operate. Riverside's Pair-O-Chutes was demolished along with the rest of that park in 1967 and the Steeplechase Parachute Jump was closed in 1964. Recognized as an historical landmark, Steeplechase's PJ tower escaped the wreaking ball and its framework was restored, but it now stands only as a silent monument to its former glory.

Intamin developed a modern Parachute Tower in 1976 and built a fair number of them in the U.S. (Knott's Berry Farm, Six Flags Over Georgia, Six Flags Great Adventure, Six Flags Over Texas, Six Flags St. Louis, etc.). Though good for a goosebump or two, these neutered 'chutes are held back by their cable support systems from achieving full-bore free-fall descents.

But Intamin did finally get serious with a no-holds-barred free-fall device in 1982, debuting the outlandish Texas Cliffhanger at Six Flags Over Texas. Looking more like something you'd see inside a munitions plant than at an amusement park, the bare steel, L-shaped "Free Fall" was designed without any attempt to camouflage its barbaric personality. Sitting in open-air cages, riders are rapidly hoisted up the center of a 113-foot-tall rectangular shaft. Near the top, the cages are - ka-chunk! - thrust forward, engaging rails that drop straight down the shaft's exterior. Once released, the vehicles free-fall 60 feet before plowing through a ribcage-compressing bend in the tracks that leaves riders completely reclined as they skid to a halt across a horizontal brake run. Variously christened Demon Drop at Cedar Point and Stuntman's Freefall at Six Flags Great Adventure, Intamin's first-generation Free Fall is definitely not for the faint of heart.

In 1995, Intamin significantly refined the concept with its "Giant Drop" attraction, a slender steel column that made the Free Fall's bulky cages and horizontal braking extension obsolete. The first Giant Drop, a blood-red spire cleverly dubbed the Hellevator, had its premier at Six Flags Kentucky Kingdom and from the get-go, it lived up to its demonic moniker. At its base, riders plop down into one of six four-seat, shoulder harness-equipped vehicles that face away from the pillar. With legs dangling free, they're hauled at about 16 feet per second to within a few yards of the Hellevator's 17-story pinnacle. There's a torturously long pause at the top and without warning, the vehicles are released, free-falling to a bristling speed of 54 miles per hour. But before gravity can yank them all the way back down, Intamin's patented magnetic "eddy-current" braking system smoothly impedes the fall, gently decelerating and lowering each car back onto solid ground.

As one would guess, Intamin's successive Giant Drops have grown far taller, making the Hellevator look a lot less hellish. Further, the company recently introduced a high-capacity variant called the Gyro Drop, the Drop Zone Stunt Tower, at Paramount's Kings Island (pictured above right).

But Acrophobia has taken the Gyro Drop into uncharted territory. What follows is the tale of one thrill seeker who will never look at drop rides the same way again.

As I look up at this thing I think to myself, "That doesn't look too bad. I've ridden taller." So, I go to get strapped in only to find myself standing over a small bicycle seat with my butt barely cradled. Then the safety harness comes down. I snap the safety buckle into place and find myself snugly secure in a contraption quite similar to a skydiver's harness. And the only thing under my feet is concrete…

One last check to make sure everyone is secure and up we go… slowly at first. But then as we reach 20 feet in the air, we shoot upward and begin to make our 360 degree revolution. And the view is spectacular.

About 20 feet from the top, the gondola slows… and – Oh, my lord – the seats lean forward. We have almost no choice but to look down at the ground below... And it seems to take forever for the gondola to reach the final drop height.

It's like swinging on a meat hook... sixteen stories above Terra Firma.

Then we hear a hiss and AAARRRGGG!!!! The ground comes rushing at us, faster and faster… Thousands of pounds of steel and screaming thrillseekers plummeting towards earth at superhighway speeds. My stomach still at the top and my heart not beating, we hit the magnetic breaks and slow to a gentle stop.

As I get off this ride, weak-kneed and bug-eyed, I can only think of one word: AGAIN!

I have never been so terrified on a ride in my life… and I've ridden my share of drop rides. But this appalling creation takes the drop ride to a whole new level. Move over, Scream. Step aside, Power Tower. Back up, Pitfall. You have a new little brother; and what he lacks in height, he makes up for in sheer madness. His name… Acrophobia, quite possibly the scariest ride on the planet.

One final note of warning, in the form of a brief conversation I had with someone else standing on line:

He asks me, "Is this your first ride?"

"Yes," I replied.

"The first ride is great; it's the second that's bad."

"Why?"

"The second time you know what's coming."

(Acrophobia logo art courtesy Six Flags Over Georgia.)