Listen or read this episode of The Abandoned Carousel. Both versions are below.

Thanks to Dawn for suggesting this topic!

“I still have a scar on my knee from that park!” remembers one visitor in an online forum for the Lake Dolores Waterpark.

“I still remember when Jay […] went down [the slide] on a Boogie board and zoomed straight across the lake and came to an abrupt stop under his truck.”

Lake Dolores Waterpark perhaps could be remembered as the Action Park of the West, it seems. Both had the young, fun, wild vibes that came with lax safety rules, summertime sunshine, and free-flowing alcohol. “Only real rules there were no motorcycles in the park and no beer bongs.”

“No fear when you’re young,” remembers another visitor, and someone else chimes in, “So 80s!”

Lake Dolores Waterpark

The location: Newberry Springs, California. Located a few miles from Barstow, off I-15 between Los Angeles and Las Vegas, this is the location of a desert oasis, a little spot in the middle of nowhere. (Yep, kind of nowhere – it’s roughly equidistant between Vegas and Los Angeles, roughly 140 miles from each.)

The area is attractive to those interested in desert outdoor sports – water skiing, ATVing, motocross, etc. But mostly, it’s a pretty empty spot of desert that people only catch a glimpse of as they rush by on the I-15.

Local attractions include Zzyzx Road, a monastery, Calico Ghost Town, and the subject of today’s episode, the abandoned site of the former Lake Dolores (later called Rock-a-Hoola Waterpark).

Before Lake Dolores Was a Waterpark

The waterpark was the brainchild of John Robert Byers. He was known as Bob. Originally, Bob was involved in the paint business back in the 40s and 50s in Yermo, CA, but he was a man with big ideas. He sold his share in that business to start a grand venture in the desert around 1953. Reportedly, at the time, land was a penny an acre, and if you made improvements on it for five years, it would become yours.

The first thing that was built on the site was an airplane hangar. This then became the family home.

Bob and his wife Dolores (known as Dee) started out with a homestead in the area – 350 acres, including cattle ranch, ponies, and alfalfa fields. Some of their property included some of the current I-15, and they had to sell about 50 acres when I-15 was widened. 

In 1966, Lake Dolores as we know it began to take shape. He built a man-made lake on one of the area’s natural springs, conveniently located a hundred yards from the now-existing I-15. He called it Lake Dolores, after his wife. Originally, the park was simply a private desert campground for his family. They had waterskiing and boat racing, as well as fishing. Grandchild Penny Byers remembers online, “Each year my grandpa would add something to the lake.”

Dawn Fields, who once worked on a documentary for the place, was interviewed as saying “… He wanted it to be a landing place, a pit stop, a place to just cool off and refresh. That started catching on, and the word got out and people started flocking to the water.” 

The park grew in popularity, and attracted more and more outdoor sports enthusiasts. The scope of the park, then, also began to expand, to include slides of multiple types, thrilling trapeze rides, a boat racing track, and an expanded campground and MX/ATV course.

The park is generally considered the first modern waterpark in America. Why?

Well, at the time, there simply were no other commercial water parks; places might have lakes or swimming, but the waterpark, with its slides and other attractions, was unknown. Bob and his family built every attraction for the original iteration of the park by hand. By opening the place up to the public, Dawn Fields said: “that’s what turned it into the first water park, because there’s no record going back of any official water park prior to that. So whether he knew it or not, he was really kind of inventing America’s first water park.” In 1971, 30,000 visitors came to Lake Dolores.

But of course, it was more than just a water park.

“It was pretty much a free-for-all party location in the middle of nowhere.” 

People called it Lake “D” and “Lake Delirious”. A former visitor remembers: “This place was a mud hole with no grass hardly any trees and dirt AND WE LOVED IT. Every summer the bikers would throw a week long party that was totally insane”. Universally online, the memories of the original Lake Dolores are of the good times and great dangers.

What made it that way? Let’s go over the safety hazards that made Lake Dolores so memorable. But first, some facts.

Getting to Lake Dolores

Obviously a water park in the middle of the desert is a pretty attractive notion, especially in the days prior to common home air conditioning. Temperatures can soar well over 110F in the daytime. Those who aren’t from the desert might not realize that the temperature swing once the sun goes down is quite dramatic – a 30F difference. And although it’s the desert, winter temps can still be below freezing, so a waterpark is still a seasonal concept.

To get to Lake Dolores, you did and still do take the Harvard exit off I-15. If you lived within five or ten miles at the time, that was considered close enough to bike or walk. Otherwise, the park was easily visible off the newly constructed I-15, formerly state route 91, and attracted many visitors from the interstate. Cars drove down the dusty desert roads, paid their entrance fee at the entrance building (a single-wide mobile home). Until 1971, admission was free. In 1972, prices were raised from 50 cents to 1.50 for adults, 75 cents for kids. The Byers family began advertising in the local paper.

“Funtastic!” the ad read. “Primitive camping, swimming, giant swings, 180ft slides into water, fishing.” 

At the park, cars could park, many quite close to the water’s edge. In front of them, a vista of murky lakes and lagoons. I should be more generous here – although the lakes were not what we picture compared to today’s waterparks, they were quality tested regularly. Water was pumped from the wells that once irrigated alfafa fields, and then was pumped through the swim lakes into the various fishing lakes in a constant circulation.

Black steel drum trash cans were everywhere on the hot desert dirt. There were a handful of scraggly desert trees to provide greenery, but mostly it was that unending desert – Bob reportedly wanted it to look like a beach. The main feature was the sliding hill, made from the dirt scooped out for the lakes and lagoons, and its shiny silver slides.

The Sit-Down Slides at Lake Dolores

Adjacent to the lake was built up a man-made hill, upon which eight identical slides perched, the eye-catching feature of the park. Originally, there were only two slides. The sun likely reflected off the slides to catch the attention of drivers on the freeway. Each rider used an inflatable raft to coast down the slide: seated, on the belly, or on the back. The slides were 180-ft long as advertised, and ran at a jaw-dropping sixty degree angle. When riders hit the water, they would skid 40, 50, 60 (etc) feet across the lagoon at about 40mph, like so many skipping stones. And there was no guarantee the riders would stay in the water. Quote: “I can even tell you that putting baby oil on the sit down slide rafts would increase the speed on your way down the slide”. Dozens of stories online relate how friends would fly out of the pool and land in the dirt.

This was just the tip of the iceberg for safety hazards at Lake Dolores. 

The Stand-Up Slides at Lake Dolores

Emptying into a separate lagoon and coming off that same hill were the infamous pair of stand-up slides. These were 220 ft long and ran at 60 degrees like their lay-down counterparts. Different however was that the stand-up slides required riders to stand up as they went down the slide. Riders had to maintain their balance on the slick running water lest they fall off into the desert dirt they’d just trudged up to get to the top (no stairs, folks). 

At the end of the slide, instead of coasting into the lagoon like the lay-down slides next door, the riders were met with a 10-15ft drop into the water below. The effect was something like a human cannonball.

Promotional videos for the park show riders with very impressive skills, spinning in circles while standing and sliding down the slide. Quote: “ doing 360s’ down the stand up slides was only for the truly brave Lake Dolorians as we called ourselves.” Or pairs of riders, doing coordinating flips at the end into the water. Of course, many people slipped and fell, taking the ride on their rear ends, too. 

Quote: “Sliding down that metal slide in your bare feet was really tough, you’d always be scared of falling right as you got to the end and hitting your head on the lip of the slide.  We would see at least one major injury every single day.”

The Zip Cord (“The Tram”) at Lake Dolores

In between the two sets of slides was the Zip Cord, known as The Tram. This was a 200 ft long guidewire. Riders held on to a cobbled-together hand tram (sort of two wheels with a handle) and zoomed downward, at continually increasing speeds. At the end of the line was a tire, which stopped the tram and sent riders dropping, usually screaming, the twenty feet into the murky lagoon below. The true challenge, of course, was to hold on at least long enough to be over water. If you let go too soon, it was a painful and likely bloody fall onto the hard desert dirt below.

A visitor who spent time at the park every Memorial Day in the 70s remembers: “When we were relaxing on the lakeside in lawn chairs, we’d watch people fall off the zip lines as they started off and tumble down that rocky hill or better yet, not let go before hitting the tire at the end and get whipped/thrown head over heels right to the edge of the shore in barely knee-deep water.”

The Trapeze at Lake Dolores

In an adjacent lake stood some deep waters with a wild-looking structure in the middle. Like an upsized version of a child’s swingset, this was an A-frame structure with several platforms and three trapeze swings.

Reportedly launching from a height of 20 ft, riders usually did ungraceful swings off the trapeze, landing in uncomfortable belly flops. 

The trapeze stand also had high dive platforms, as well, and a balancing log, for knocking opponents off of into the water. In one section, there was a normal metal child’s swing standing in the water, the bottom of the swing seat touching the water. One visitor comments “pretty sure this is now why i am afraid of dark water.”

The water in this pool, really more of a lake or lagoon, like all others, was a far cry from modern waterparks: murky muddy water, like a lake, instead of the crystal clear chlorine water in a falsely blue basin of today’s parks. Visitors online share more than one story of finding something unmentionable floating in the water while swimming.

But… “There was simply no place like it when it was 115 [degrees F]!”

Other Amenities at Lake Dolores

Lake Dolores also had other amenities, including the campground, the motocross and ATV tracks, and the lake for boat and jet-ski races. As the park grew more popular, a snack shack was added. There were also bumper boats, “racing cars”, and mini golf.

It was 100% a family operation. By all accounts the Byers family is and was a close one. Every online remembrance I’ve read of the place talks about how nice, genuine, and wonderful the Byers family was. Every post that talks about them talks about how it was a family operation first and foremost, how their hearts were poured into the park. The children, cousins, and grandchildren all spent their summers 24/7 at Lake Dolores. They worked as lifeguards, they staffed the snack bars, took admissions, etc. 

The park was also located reasonably close to other amenities located just three miles down the road at the next offramp (close for the time): a Stuckey’s family restaurant and a Shell gas station with a convenience store.  

Increasing Popularity for Lake Dolores Waterpark

“The one thing that was a constant at Lake Dolores was that someone was going to get hurt. Everytime we went someone either spiraled off the stand up slide into a spectacular crash….or someone didn’t run far enough on the zip line before they lifted their feet….and got drug across the hot dirt for several yards before they were high enough in the air…etc…”

Despite, or perhaps because of, the thrilling nature of the waterpark, Lake Dolores saw a slow and steady increase in attendance over the decades. Quote from a former visitor online: “And Lake Delores was a death trap! All the rides were so dangerous! Yeah it was a blast! ” Reportedly, guests had to sign a Waiver of Liability upon entrance to the park. There isn’t a single comment section I’ve found talking about Lake Dolores in this period that doesn’t mention the thrills and the danger and the injuries. 

Reportedly, the joke used to be, “If you didn’t come home with a bruise or a scrape from Lake Dolores, you didn’t have any fun.” 

It was promoted as the “Fun Spot of the Desert”. No longer was it only a midway stop for those driving from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. It became a destination. Low-budget commercials for Lake Dolores aired during afternoon cartoons and late night bad movies. A 1970s interview was aired on local news, in which patrons sang the praises of the park, despite it’s location. Was it worth driving 150 miles to get to Lake Dolores? “You get tired of the beaches. You want a change every now and then. Nothing’s like this around where we live.”

Word of mouth, of course, was a strong driving factor for attendance. “Only went there once, for two glorious days in the early eighties,” says one former visitor in a comment online. “It was the absolute most fun I have ever had at a water park.” 

Particularly popular with thrill-seeking teens and young adults, visitors would often line up in their cars by the dozens, sleeping overnight just outside of the front gates in order to get the best weekend camping spots. Apparently, tents could be pitched right at the water’s edge, and in the morning, patrons could roll out of their tents and jump into the water. Can you imagine?

Anecdotal reports online are that one or more deaths did occur at the park in this incarnation, but it is hard to corroborate stories. Newspaper reports are as follows: a 22-year-old 1978 drowning in the high dive/trapeze pool, a 6-year-old drowned in one of the small swimming pools, 

For the most part, people write about the place with incredible fondness. Lake Dolores was remembered for its free-flowing beer, all-night parties, anytime hookups, an epic hangovers. It was remembered for bus trips and senior ditch days and young people wearing very little in the hot summer sunshine. Sleeping in the backs of trucks, staring up at the clearest sky of stars that only the desert produces. Friends, weed, sunburns, music, cold beer, and cool water in the hot dry desert, that was Lake Dolores.

Closure of Lake Dolores Waterpark

In the late 1980s, Lake Dolores Waterpark closed for the first time. Details, as always seem to be the case, are light, but some report financial problems. Opinions online are that insurance and worker’s comp for the free-wheeling park “killed it”. 

Perhaps, but perhaps not. 

In 1986, local ordinances about water at recreational parks were updated to be more strict. In an article at the time, Byers was quoted as worrying that this new standard could force the closure of his park due to the murky waters.

Attitudes were changing. Vegas was building water parks, such as Wet ‘n Wild on the strip. Society was developing different expectations for safety. The tides were simply shifting. And Bob and Dolores wanted to retire, and none of their children wanted to take over the operation of the park. So, it was sold.

This incarnation of the park was nothing if not a bunch of drunk hippies with an “anything goes”, no-hold barred kind of attitude. The opinion was one of personal responsibility. “We did belly flops that emptied the pools.” says one visitor.  “Lake Dolores was the epitome of what a water park SHOULD still be. If the ride/apparatus scares you, don’t go on it.”

Rock-a-Hoola Waterpark

With the sale of the Lake Dolores waterpark, we enter the era of the “second” waterpark: Rock-a-Hoola. 

The property changed hands several times. Originally, the title was proposed as “Water World of Barstow” in 1986, which was to be a large RV park with several themed villages, a golf course, and of course, Lake Dolores. This project was in development for 18 months, but was ultimately canceled in 1987 due to the developer being unable to find investment funding. Byers was quoted at the time saying “It’s still up for sale. I want to retire.”

In 1989, the property was officially sold and development reportedly began in earnest on this same concept. Still, nothing came of it, and the property was sold to “Lake Dolores Group LLC”, which was an investment group led by a man named Terry Christensen. 

Christensen was a former Marine, and a general contractor who’d build four other water parks previously. He was ready for a park of his own, and envisioned a modern, polished park with a 1950s theme. The name was to be Rock-a-Hoola. Yes, like the Elvis song, and yes, probably spelled as it is to avoid legal infringement. 

Dawn Fields: “From the ‘90s when Terry Christensen rebuilt it, what strikes you is just the bold color. The big, huge bright red windy slide and the big colorful mushroom umbrellas, the Route 66 feel and the rockabilly, Elvis Presley ‘50s theme that he built into it.”

Christensen was reportedly inspired by finding a better place for his family to jet ski; their previous getaway place, Lake Mead, was often too crowded with boaters. Together with the investment group, the plan was for a waterpark, campground, and lake.

Opening of Rock-a-Hoola Park

It took several years to renovate the park for the modern era, both from a financial perspective and from the perspective of physical work to be done on the site. In 1995, the original waterslides on the hill were removed and new slides were installed. These were bright fiberglass numbers – white and red and blue. 

The park was laid out to include a lazy river, a kids’ splash pad, an arcade, lockers, a water fountain, and a snack shack. Gone was the murky lake and camp style of the old Lake Dolores, and in was crystal clear chlorinated water. The theming was a slick, over the top “fifties” theme, though most of the buildings were done in what I’d called 90s desert concrete more than anything. Retro billboards promoted the theming throughout the park. Up on the hill, a giant cylinder was painted with a bright red Coke promotion.

Reportedly, Christensen’s daughter was the one to name each of the slides after favorite 50s songs: the Doo Wop Super Drop, Blueberry Hill Thrill, The Big Bopper.

Christensen had big plans for the park, digging a new lake and wells. RV sites were laid out for camping, and the ultimate goal was for a much larger complex, potentially even including a hotel. The grand plans never came to fruition, as neither of the 21st century owners ever raised the capital to realize the plans.

The park opened in 1998, as “America’s First Waterpark in the 21st Century”. Admission was $17.95 for adults and $12.95 for kids.

One of the park’s big selling points was that it had the largest family raft ride in the US at the time. This was the Big Bopper. 

Events of the Late 90s at Rock-a-Hoola

Unfortunately, things were not to be very rosy in the 21st century for Rock-a-Hoola. One of the three investors in the Lake Dolores LLC group made problems, forcing the park to file for Chapter 11 bankruptcy right away in 1998.

Operations continued and attendance at the waterpark was moderate. 

The Electric Daisy Carnival, now an annual event in multiple cities with hundreds of thousands of attendees, held one of its first annual EDM festivals at Rock-a-Hoola in June of 1999. Over 10,000 people attended the festival.

Later in 1999, a major incident occurred which would hasten the park’s problems. 

An employee, James Mason, reported to work at the waterpark. While off the clock waiting for his shift to start after a competition, Mason asked another employee to turn on the Doo Wop Super Drop slide so he could cool down. Unfortunately, the catch pool was not sufficiently full, which wasn’t realized until after he’d already begun sliding. Mason hit the pool’s concrete with massive force, and was paralyzed, rendered a complete parapalegic. 

Ultimately, Mason sued Lake Dolores and won, receiving $4.4M in 2004, well after the park had closed.

The park continued on for three seasons as Rock-a-Hoola, by which time they’d amassed over three million dollars in debt. In 2000, debt continuing to rise, the park entered Chapter 7 liquidation. The property was given back to Dolores Byers (Bob having passed away in 1996) after the court-appointed trustee couldn’t find a buyer, nearly all debts forgiven.

Dolores Byers sold the property again in 2001 to a different investment group, and passed away in October of that year.

The Short-Lived Discovery Waterpark

With $400k of renovations and Terry Christensen still on board as a consultant, newly renamed Discovery Waterpark opened in 2002, operating on weekends in 2002 and 2003 seasons. During the 2004 season, the park operated intermittently and inconsistently before closing for good that year. Despite the “new” name, I’ve seen little to no indications that signs for the park ever included the new name. Billboards from the park’s abandoned days still feature the Rock-a-Hoola logo and “Discovery Waterpark”, that generic name, is to be honest, an afterthought in the story of the park.

Reportedly, when the park closed in the 2000s, employees weren’t paid for the last month of the park’s operation. However, they were reportedly allowed to take whatever they pleased home with them: “Computers, furniture, food…anything.”

Possible Futures for Rock-a-Hoola / Lake Dolores

At one point in the late 2000s, applications were made for the land to be used as a housing development, an RV park, or a senior retirement home. Reportedly Ron Brown, then of the Oakland Raiders, was even in serious talks to buy the park at one time.

The report at the time from the local realtor scene was that insurance costs for the park after the accident went sky high. Many online unfairly blame the injured employee for “killing the park” which is unfair and inaccurate, given the reports about the park’s finances. Quote: “the partners he had at the time were at fault as they squandered investors’ money and were brought up on charges.”

Finally, the local government permits surrounding additional lakes and water rights in the area made the prospect of opening any separate waterpark difficult. Reportedly, the zoning for the Lake Dolores property was also changed around this time. 

As the early 2000s moved into the mid-2000s, it was clear that Rock-a-Hoola was shuttered for good. 

The Abandoned Lake Dolores Waterpark

From here, the park moved into its current, “third” stage: the abandoned waterpark.

The park was well-maintained for quite some time. There are relatively few images showing the park abandoned but with slides still present, as it was still secured.

In 2008, skateboarders Rob and Big of the MTV show Rob & Big worked with then-owners to gain permission to film at the site. Permission was granted and they filmed an episode of their skateboard stunt show at the park. This is likely the last film appearance of the park “as it was”. Two weeks after the episode was filmed, the slides were disassembled and shipped to Canada. They were purchased by Cultus Lake in British Columbia (Canada). The Big Bopper, the most notable of these, has been renamed Colossal Canyon. 

After this documentary was filmed, the prognosis for the park quickly went downhill. There are increased reports of scrappers and vandalism, broken glass, arson, all the usual suspects. By 2019, of course, anything of value like copper has long been stolen from the place for scrap value. The palm trees haven’t been trimmed or maintained in years. There are literal tumbleweeds blowing around.

The park is located in the heart of the Mojave desert. The place is dry, which is of course ironic for a waterpark. Mold, wood rot, plant growth – the usual suspects in an abandoned building – aren’t factors in this place. Structurally, most of the buildings are going to last for quite a long time. 

Over on the hill, that once bright-red Coke sign has long been bleached by the baking hot desert sun. What original signage is left that hasn’t been painted over by graffiti artists also suffers the same fate: faded beyond illegibility, tattered and peeling.

About ten years ago (2009-2011), progress was being made on a full-length documentary; however, no recent progress has been made and the domain name associated with it is now for sale. 

Since 2011, efforts have been made to restore the park and open a new, profitable enterprise. The park has transferred hands from one owner to another. Ownership has been stable since 2014, however. A group called Oasis Theme Park is heading the effort to work with the current owner and restore the park, but progress has been slow. The story of what happened or is happening with this group really isn’t clear. There are accusations about money mismanagement by a representative of the owner’s bank, and at the time of this recording, there has been no apparent progress on any park restoration.

This is not surprising, according to the local Newberry Springs Community Alliance. In an op-ed in the local paper back in 2013, they state that they’ve known since 2011 that the Lake Dolores site will never again be a financially viable commercial enterprise. 

Their reasoning does make sense.

When Lake Dolores opened, it was the first commercial waterpark and there was no competition. It was nothing to drive two hours from a major city to and from Lake Dolores. Now in 2019, there is a large competing market for water parks, and the remote location two hours from either Las Vegas or Los Angeles is unlikely to draw the crowds necessary to profit. Attitudes are different.

The area “amenities” that once seemed convenient are still three miles away, and still a little far. The Shell gas station is still there with its convenience store, but the Stuckey’s sits across the road, abandoned. There is a burger place by the gas station now, however – progress since the 1960s!

Media Appearances for Lake Dolores

The park has been the backdrop or feature for a number of other media productions.

In 2012, Mercedes-Benz sponsored another skate film, entitled “Kilian Martin: Altered Route”.

In 2013, art group TrustoCorp turned the park into “TrustoLand”, repainting most of the signs and buildings. This began the current endless cycle of graffiti at the park that can be seen today.

Also in 2013, the group Boards of Canada debuted their Tomorrow’s Harvest album with a release at the abandoned park. A series of clues preempted the release, including satellite images, a distorted commercial for the park, and lat/long coordinates.

In 2014, the park was used as a Top Gear America obstacle course and an Operation Lion Claws airsoft course.

2015 saw the park featured in a BMW Mini Cooper commercial, and in the music video “Reapers” by the band Muse. 

In 2016 the park appeared on an episode of Abandoned by the Viceland network.

And of course, there are countless urban exploration videos that you can see on YouTube, all filmed post-slide removal, showing the increasingly demolished waterpark. 

Summing Up Lake Dolores

The story of Lake Dolores Waterpark is the story of three different parks. 

We’ve got the abandoned waterpark of the current era – smashed, destroyed, an eyesore rotting away in the desert that is unlikely to be restored.

The story of the modern vision of the park (Rock-a-Hoola and Discovery) is really a tragedy. Christenson and his family put heart and soul into the park. To have the story turn sour on unethical partners and mountains of debt is nothing but heartbreaking.

Finally, the story of the original scrappy Lake Dolores is that of family, good memories, and wild times. The original Lake Dolores could never have existed in our modern era of safety regulations, but we do have photos and stories to help recapture and revisit those days.

The slides were for so many years a landmark to those commuting on the I-15. Lake Dolores is well-remembered by the large family (many children, grandchildren, and cousins) who were brought together each summer by the waterpark.

There are incredible stories online of the wild times people experienced at Lake Dolores. But it was also remembered for the people who created it: the Byers family who came together every summer to run the park, and the patriarch and matriarch, Bob and Dolores Byers. 

Penny Byers: “I can’t believe people are still talking about Lake Dolores. The middle of the desert, middle of nowhere was the best place for the lake. My grandparents are gone but I am happy to see that their legend lives on, they were great people. ”

Millie, a cousin: “Bob flew small planes, could sing with a gorgeous voice, was quite a business man and a wonderful uncle. Dee is forever a part of my heart.”

Going into this episode, I was drawn in as always by the images of the abandoned park. But it’s the story of the original Lake Dolores and the people who built it that have stuck out to me the most. It truly seems like it was a one of a kind memorable experience. In the words of a former visitor:  “To me, it was the coolest, happiest, most magical place on earth. ”

Remember that what you’ve read is a podcast! A link is included at the top of the page. Listen to more episodes of The Abandoned Carousel on your favorite platform: Apple Podcasts | Google Podcasts | Spotify | RadioPublic | TuneIn | Overcast | Pocket Casts | Castro. Support the podcast on Patreon for extra content! Comment below to share your thoughts – as Lucy Maud Montgomery once said, nothing is ever really lost to us, as long as we remember it.

References

I’ve included a complete list of references used while researching this topic. It’s hidden under the link for brevity.

The post Lake Dolores Waterpark appeared first on The Abandoned Carousel.

Listen or read this episode of The Abandoned Carousel. Both versions are below.

The story I’m about to tell you is not the story I’d planned on telling when I set out to research Trinity Loop Amusement Park. I’d been going to talk about an empty Ferris wheel and an eerie old locomotive sitting on a hill by a lake. Maybe I had been going to talk about the block letters that still clearly spell out “Trinity Loop” up on top of a bridge.

I knew there was a train theme involved somehow. But to be honest, I never was much of a train buff, so I’d expected to gloss right over that part. 

It turns out, however, that the story of Trinity Loop is so much more than any of my preconceived notions. 

This is a story about historical preservation. This is the story of interesting engineering to solve a geography problem and connect a country together. This is the story of reuse and waste. This is the story of childhood summertime memories. This is a story about what we choose to preserve and what happens when we’re gone. 

This is Trinity Loop, in Newfoundland.

Trinity, Newfoundland

Let’s start with a wide view. 

We’re talking about Newfoundland. Newfoundland is an island, the eastern-most part of Canada. Newfoundland was formerly a colony and then a dominion of the United Kingdom. In 1949, Newfoundland became a part of Canada.

Narrowing in, we look at Trinity. Trinity is a small town on the eastern side of the island. Historically, Trinity served as a major port for the export of the island’s fishing exports. I recommend browsing through the Trinity location tag on Instagram – a beautiful town, with brightly-painted houses, amazing sunsets, and lots of whale-watching. Certainly a feast for the eyes!

In popular culture, Trinity might be familiar as a filming location for the 2001 movie “The Shipping News”, which has a lovely soundtrack, as well.

The Newfoundland Railway

Now that you know where we are, let’s talk about the history of the railway in Newfoundland.

In the 1880s, the colonial government of Newfoundland began construction of a narrow-gauge railroad across the island as a vital way to transport people and goods across the island. This was before the days of cars or any sort of highway system. Ultimately, at a total length of 906 miles, the Newfoundland Railway became the longest 3’6” narrow-gauge railway system in North America. 

Narrow gauge was chosen instead of standard gauge (which is 4ft 8 ½ in) as a cost-saving measure (reportedly costing roughly half of what a standard gauge rail would cost). This decision would save money in the short-term but spell the end for the railway in the long run. 

Trinity Loop in Train Service

The railway was constructed as a key way to connect small towns across Newfoundland. Remember that Trinity was located on the eastern side of the island, far from mainland Canada – the railway would’ve been huge around the turn of the 20th century. 

In addition to being a coastal town located in the bay, Trinity is surrounded by steep hills. A normal direct train route would’ve been too steep a grade for any train to pass.

To connect Trinity to the railway, then, some effort was required. 

In 1911, engineer J. P. Powell came up with a solution similar to those seen in the western Canadian mountains in British Columbia. The train route was looped around a pond outside of Trinity, slowing changing elevation as it crossed underneath itself. Overall, the elevation of the track dropped 10.3 meters over 6,600 feet. This allowed the train to then safely finish descending into the town of Trinity. 

The Trinity Loop is quite unique because of the visibility of the entire Loop.

The trestles were set for the train, and then earth was moved in great quantities to cover the exposed structure. This is quite the engineering marvel for hand tools in 1911 – think of doing this without a modern excavator!

Struggles for the Newfoundland Railway

Despite the influx of money from private investment by Sir Robert Gillespie Reid, the railway never turned a profit as the years went on. The narrow gauge of the railway meant its freight capacity was limited. The harsh winter weather at points, including Gaff Topsail (the north-central point of the railroad), meant constant delays and small fortunes in winter weather maintenance costs. And Newfoundland as a whole was a small island without enough traffic to truly support the massive train infrastructure.

After decades of operating losses, the government nationalized the railway, buying it back from the Reid Company in 1923. The railway passed from the hands of the British colonial government to the Canadian government in 1949, when Newfoundland became part of Canada as mentioned earlier. 

As the years rolled over, the railway’s prospects continued to fall by the wayside, the casualty of the more popular bus and Trans-Canada highway systems, which were paved in the 1970s. This was reportedly not only due to preference of travelers, but also to the allocation of government dollars. In 1979, CN restructured itself after years of complaints about the railway and significant subsidies, renaming the Newfoundland operations as Terra Transport. Between 1979 and 1988, the Newfoundland railway was slowly shuttered, with branch lines closing in 1984 and the main line closing by 1988. 

Closure and Preservation of the Trinity Loop

The train on the Trinity Loop operated from 1911 until the closure of the Bonavista branch of the railway in 1984, along with all other branch lines. With the line closed, the original plan was to disassemble, remove, and scrap the Trinity Loop, and all other parts of the shuttered railway, despite its recognized historical importance.

However, local researcher Clayton Cook, a former railwayman, took it upon himself to save the Loop. He began petitioning several of the local politicians and began a one-man campaign to save the Loop as a historical site and monument. 

He ultimately succeeded, and Trinity Loop’s original tracks were left alone, some of the only original railway tracks remaining on the island of Newfoundland. The structure of Trinity Loop was preserved, at least in that it wasn’t destroyed.

The Trinity Loop became government property. In February 1988, the Loop was recognized as a Registered Heritage Structure in Canada. 

Trinity Loop Amusement Park

Local Francis Kelly purchased the Trinity Loop by lease some time after its original rough preservation. Cook’s original goal for the Trinity Loop was reportedly a railway museum, but Kelly had other ideas. He began construction on an amusement park inside the area of the Loop. It was simply called Trinity Loop Amusement Park.

Kelly built a small miniature narrow gauge train to run on the former Loop tracks. After a few years, he added additional tracks to allow the train to circle the amusement park and connect to the start of the Loop. Visitors could take that historical trip around the waters of the Loop Pond, the Ferris wheel spinning merrily nearby. Plywood cutouts of popular early 90s cartoons at the time dotted the perimeter, an occasional surprise in the thick evergreens.

“Crossing over the bridge on the mini train on original track with my family and looking down at the pond, track and park was probably the most exciting moment of my childhood,” remembers local J. P. Coady.

The setting couldn’t have been more breathtaking – lush green forest, sparkling clear blue waters of the Loop pond, and the amusement park itself, set in a clearing in the middle of it all. Several former railway cars became part of the park – an old yellow Plymouth locomotive for patrons to climb in and on, several passenger cars, a sleeper car that could be rented for the night, and a boxcar as a small stage for performances. 

Other Activities at Trinity Loop Amusement Park

In a lower clearing, the mini-golf game, the bumper boats, the little playground, the Ferris wheel..all that sat down closer to the water. To one side, the cabins and the petting zoo.

“My first memory was catching a brief glimpse of the mini train on top of the hill, briefly visible from the road heading to the loop.” remembers J. P. Coady. “Then cresting the last hill my heart raced as I saw a railway crossing sign (which marked where the original line crossed the old Cabot Highway; this crossing was know as breakheart crossing)rail cars and park entrance! After reading so much about the Loop, being there was such a big deal for me.”

Visitors Loved Trinity Loop Amusement Park

The park is a quick drive from the town of Trinity. Reportedly, it was popular for its free swimming, as well as its good food. The restaurant was called Conductors Choice Diner (great restaurant in a converted passenger car). Burgers and the popcorn chicken are both mentioned in fond remembrances online. Former workers remember taking breaks, sitting on the stoops of the railway cars, listening to the band play: the Singing Hobo and the Brakemen. 

Scouting organizations took camping trips there (particularly the Girl Guides groups in the area). Visitors remember the area as being a nice place for a day trip, and a place they remember as kids (or a place they remember taking their own children). It was a place for families. Locals even called it the Florida or the Disneyland of Newfoundland.

Quote: “In the evenings they would have live music, on the upper part of the site by the RV park. People would drive up, or you could walk there, and the stage was a flat car on railway tracks. People would blow their horns in the cars or clap after each song. It was such a nice experience.” If you chose to stay on-site, you could stay in one of the Trinity Cabins, or even rent out the Terra Nova 2 sleeper car. From the back of the sleeper car, you could see the sun set over the water and the park, and listen to the band play.

Downfall of the Trinity Loop Amusement Park

As is almost always the case, there’s no one reason the park closed. At its peak, Trinity Loop amusement park attracted 35,000 visitors per year, which was a huge boost to the local economies of Trinity and nearby Goose Cove. 

Quite a bit seems to have hinged on the downfall of the job and tourism industry on the island of Newfoundland. Work locally became hard to find during this time, so many left for the mainland for more stable employment. Employes became hard to find. Tourism to amusement parks like Trinity Loop also dwindled, and the park management didn’t shift their focus to include a more broad historical context that may have pulled in additional visitors. 

Trinity Loop Closed Again in 2004

The park operated until 2004. At this time, the contract ended with the provincial government and the property returned to governmental ownership. There is some speculation about fees and back taxes owed, but this is only speculation and rumor. 

After the park’s closure, the small miniature train (Trinity Loop Express) went to Avondale, NL, where it was rebranded the Avondale Express. The train lives at the Avondale Railway Museum and gives rides in the summer over the 1.5km of remaining track there at Avondale.

Trinity Loop began to decay, there on the eastern edge of Newfoundland. Images online show nature beginning to take back the park. However, it wasn’t until 2010 that things seem to really have gone downhill for the Loop.

Hurricane Igor

What happened in 2010? In fall of 2010, Hurricane Igor swept through the area. This was the most devastating hurricane ever to hit Newfoundland.  (Interesting sidebar: if you Google “Hurricane Igor”, a top result is the “Hypothetical Hurricanes Wiki” for a fictional 2028 Hurricane Igor. I love that people make up fictional hurricanes as a hobby. I can’t throw any shade on that and thought this was actually kind of fun. Hey, I do a podcast about abandoned theme parks. To each their own.)

Anyhow, back in 2010, the real Hurricane Igor did millions of dollars of damage to Newfoundland. 

The abandoned Trinity Loop Amusement Park was particularly hard hit. Most of the original Loop track was left mostly unharmed, but most of Kelly’s later additions to track were completely torn up, washed out by the riverbeds. This led to one of the iconic images of the abandoned park – a twisted train track, suspended in the air. Rocks and sediment from the washed-out riverbeds spread across other areas of the park. 

Despite the historic designation, neither the Heritage Foundation nor the Department of Environment and Conservation had any apparent interest in taking ownership of the park. 

Despite interest from a number of people in the Trinity Loop site, the government reportedly only wants to sell the land as an entire parcel, not portions, and thus has not chosen to work with anyone interested in the Trinity Loop site specifically.

Abandoned Trinity Loop

Much of the park was left in place when it was shuttered in 2004. Some of the large train cars were sold, including the Terra Nova 2 sleeper cabin, which now resides at the Orangedale Railway Station Museum in Nova Scotia. 

Abandoned Train Cars at Trinity Loop

Other large train cars still remain at the site, including the caboose and dining car that were used as restaurant and museum, as well as the cutaway car that was used as a stage for The Singing Hobo. The empty train cars have become increasingly vandalized as the years have gone by. Their interior paint peels, covered by bright graffiti tags. A torn red train seat sits perfectly positioned for “the” Trinity Loop Instagram photo.

The yellow Plymouth locomotive remains on the top of the hill, looking out across the scenic Loop Pond and the decaying remains of Trinity Loop Amusement Park. The locomotive has seen better days, now covered in rust and graffiti. 

Another train car remains, as well, away from the main area. A car from the miniature train, this car appears to have toppled from the track by a vandal. Over the years, photos show it slowly sliding from the bank into the Loop Pond. Today, a wheel on the back of the car is all that’s clearly visible in the water.

Abandoned Ferris Wheel at Trinity Loop

Of course, there was a Ferris wheel. Yes, I do say “was”. The wheel stood for many years, even after Hurricane Igor, but it looked increasingly worse for the wear. Where once the wheel had brilliant primary-colored paint, now was only the color of rust, with the faded seats stacked in piles on the ground nearby. Based on social media photos, it appears that the wheel collapsed between June 20, 2018 and July 2, 2018 (probably June 26, 2018, based on Weather Underground weather history – there was a big storm that day with 30+ mph winds). 

The collapse of the wheel of course has led to a darker tone in the social media imagery from the site – the whole place appears much more post-apocalyptic now. 

The mini-golf course remains in place, a testament to the eternal properties of Astro Turf. In the most recent photos at the time of this recording, someone has taken to stacking cords of cut wood on it.

And the bumper boat pool is still there, empty. The other outbuildings are still all there too, increasingly vandalized and destroyed: the “Good Food” building, the Trinity Cabins where visitors once could stay, the barns where the ponies for the pony ride once were stabled. Most of the kiddie playground items are gone, with only a headless ride-on motorized pony still remaining.

And that historical, iconic looped train railway, part of the original 1911 Newfoundland railway…well, it’s still there. It hasn’t really been maintained since 2004, but reportedly it could still be restored. The red letters spelling out “Trinity Loop” still sit atop the upper trestle.

Popularity of the Abandoned Trinity Loop

Trinity Loop is more popular than ever these days. 

Recent publicity from a Canadian Press article has encouraged even more visitors, beyond just the locals. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The romance of the abandoned place, says JP Coady, has been quote “attracting a lot of people, which is good because that gives me a chance to say, ‘Well, look, this is why it’s here.”‘

Trevor Croft and J. P. Coady are names you see a lot researching this topic, and I’ve mentioned them already in this episode. They are two locals who have a passion for the history of the Newfoundland Railway, and are even more passionate about preserving history before it’s lost, as so easily happens. They volunteer at the Avondale Railway Museum, sharing their private railway collections as well as their extensive knowledge. Quote: “…they [want] to make sure that people experience the history, which is a lot more important than reading posterboards.” 

The Avondale Railway Museum

I briefly mentioned it before, but the Avondale Railway Museum is located in Avondale, about 220km from Trinity and the Trinity Loop. The length of track at Avondale is the same as that at Trinity, interestingly enough, and they have the old Trinity Loop Express, now branded the Avondale Express. The museum is open in the summer months and is “wildly popular for those interested in rail history, as well as curious tourists.” There’s a great 20 minute documentary on J. P., Trevor, and the Avondale museum.

J. P. has been working on efforts to preserve the Loop since 2012, beginning with a Facebook group, letter-writing campaigns, and a petition to the local politicians and MPs. He added the Loop to the list of “Heritage Canada sites at risk”. His vision is for the site to be turned into a heritage operation, a working railway museum. 

No Changes for Trinity Loop Yet

Despite the lobbying of J. P. and others for a heritage operation on the Trinity Loop site, the government response to date has been tepid at best.

The condition of the site hasn’t changed. Many people reportedly now blame the government for the decaying condition of the park. 

Trinity’s mayor, Jim Miller, has reportedly addressed the issues of the unsafe site with the province. Nothing has changed yet, however, aside from some very “helpful” signs posted on the property. In a statement from the provincial Department of Fisheries and Land Resources, the possibility for restoration was indicated, though without any concrete timelines. They reportedly are working on arranging an inspection of the site regarding environmental remediation.

Memories of Trinity Loop

Many guests visiting the park after its abandonment describe the ghost-like feeling of the site. “Breaks my heart in a thousand pieces,” says one former visitor. So many visitors remember idyllic weekends and summers at the park.

“The whole place is totally destroyed.”

If you were to visit the park, you’d look out over the destroyed landscape. Despite the chaos, you could close your eyes and still almost hear the squeals of joyful children. You could almost see a generation of wonderful times. Like so many of the parks we’ve covered here on TAC, Trinity Loop as an amusement park was a classic local tourist gem: a small family place, for first jobs, first kisses, and friendly fun. 

Quote: “You could look down over all the park from the cabins on the hill, hear the music, see in cars lined up in the evening to hear the local musicians play, the dancing, it was a magical place.”

Trinity Loop: More Than an Abandoned Theme Park

I told you at the beginning that Trinity Loop was about more than my preconceived notions. It’s more than just a rusty Ferris wheel and some abandoned, vandalized train cars, though. Truly, what Trinity Loop and so many of these sites represent are the idea of the past. These sites challenge our ideals. What do we value as people and society? What happens to us all when we’re gone?

Trinity Loop was preserved once, and it has the opportunity to be preserved again, if we and the right people act quickly. 

History is about keeping alive what is left. History isn’t just dry old books in a library. If we don’t talk about our past or preserve our past, who will? If we don’t memorialize our past and keep it alive in common memory, it will be forgotten. It will be lost. 

These are the lessons I’ve learned from Trinity Loop, and from The Abandoned Carousel to date. I hope you’ll continue listening and keeping the past alive with me.

This week, I’d like to thank J. P. Coady for talking with me about his history with the Loop. You should check out his Facebook group: “Trinity Loop Heritage Railway and Museum”. The CBC Land and Sea documentary called “Riding the Rails” is also well worth your time. 

Remember that if you liked the show, subscribe, leave a review, and tell a friend. 

I’ll be back soon with another great episode, so I’ll see you then. As Lucy Maud Montgomery once said, nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.

Listen to more episodes of The Abandoned Carousel on your favorite platform: Apple Podcasts | Google Play | Spotify | RadioPublic | TuneIn | Overcast | Pocket Casts | Castro. You can also find The Abandoned Carousel across social media: YouTube | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Facebook.

References

I’ve included a complete list of references used while researching this topic. It’s hidden under the link for brevity.

The post Trinity Loop appeared first on The Abandoned Carousel.