Rivers and Roads
Things change, etc etc, even Frontierland
I’m making my peace with change.
That sounds SO lofty, like wow, everyone, everyone, Natalie has learned to make her peace with change! In the immortal words of Denis Nedry, nobody cares! But, you know, I’m talking about changes that matter.
I’m talking about the changes coming to Magic Kingdom.
Frontierland is being altered FOREVER, there’s no going back from this one. Now, I’ve been a Frontierland girl since that Memorial Day weekend job fair in 2005 when a rep at Casting said, “Well, they don’t have any jobs available at the ranch, but Frontierland, that’s kind of like horse stuff, right?” and clicked a button that would send me to work in a blue skirt with a ruffled hem, a blue-sprigged button-down blouse with faux-pearl buttons, and basically change my life forever.
I learned how to belong to a group and to work for a greater good in Frontierland. I learned that I really love banjo music in Frontierland. I learned to look forward to the morning breeze off the Rivers of America and to stop talking when the Liberty Belle riverboat was sounding her whistle right behind me, because no one could hear over that nonsense.
I learned to stoop to eye-level when talking to children and that stickers solve everything. I learned that getting wet is better than melting under a plastic poncho. I learned to beg for an Early Release on a Splash Mountain shift that ended at 3:15 because otherwise I had to stand there and watch the entire parade before I could cross the promenade and get to the tunnel. I learned to work until 4 AM and wheel tens of thousands of dollars in cash up the tunnel to the currency control room while performing the entirety of “Elephant Love Song” from Moulin Rouge with my friends.
In Frontierland.
I got a hacking cough in Frontierland, from the mold permeating those plywood movie sets that we call show buildings and you call stores. I got so hot and sweaty in public I forgot how to care what I looked like in front of strangers…or friends. I ignored a guy who wanted to buy a bunch of pins with no line because he thought he was clever, and watched the Fourth of July fireworks instead, making him wait, because I should get to watch the Fourth of July fireworks, too, and I stand by that decision.
In a few weeks, Frontierland is going to change forever, and there will be a wall around the river, and the trees on Tom Sawyer Island are going to come down. I wrote a book about this threat, You Must Be This Tall, in which theme park employees, pass holders, and bloggers have to face the possibility that Wilderness Isle and the Mighty Missouri will be turned into a mountain thrill ride. Yes, it’s totally fucked that this is literally what’s happening in real life. I agree.
In my book, there are protests to save the Mighty Missouri. I based that a little on the Save Toad protests from when we lost Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride years ago. And a little on the sheer passion of Disney Twitter, RIP. And a lot on how much we theme park fans hate change, because we are operating 100% on nostalgia and vibes, and when you take those things away, what have we got left? Rides? We don’t go on rides. Unless there’s no wait and we’ve finished our drink by the time we get to the queue.
In real life no one will stand up for the Rivers of America or Tom Sawyer Island, because we literally have bigger problems right now. And honestly, what’s coming seems great. The concept art seems to indicate that the riverfront along Frontierland, the part that we see and enjoy today, will remain intact. That Tom Sawyer Island and the back half of the river will be turned into a huge western national park, and that’s going to be beautiful. And honestly if you miss watercraft inside Magic Kingdom you just have to step out to Bay Lake and the Seven Seas Lagoon to get on more boats than you’d even know what to do with, including riverboats.
The walls and the cranes and the changes are going to hurt, a lot. What doesn’t hurt, in 2025, I could ask flippantly. At least in this case, I feel assured that the change coming will end in something beautiful. I hope that it’s built to evoke the same nostalgia for lives unknown that we enjoy in Frontierland today. I hope that there are some paths that harken back to Aunt Polly’s and the barrel bridge and the Old Mill. Maybe a bridge that makes me remember the suspension bridge to Fort Langhorne. Or maybe it will be something so beautiful, I’ll truly be okay with all of it.
At least this change will offer a newly nostalgic dream on the other side.
Looking for a distraction? Read You Must Be This Tall: A Novel in ebook or paperback.
Find it At Amazon