Fun Spot (Former) Amusement Park and Zoo
An abandoned amusement park in northern Indiana brings back childhood memories.
A slight headache due to the early morning wake up, the drive the day before, and the beers from the previous night didn't help the mood set by the ominous rain and gray clouds that were going to make photography difficult. I had driven out of Cincinnati to visit family and once again meet up with my cousin Jeff to explore something abandoned like we had done at Bush Stadium last year. The rain did let up as we exited the gas station and ditched the A#1 Corolla Rager, though. So, we traversed through waste-high grass and swamps to the former "Fun Spot Amusement Park and Zoo."
Despite the temporary relief from precipitation, the wet grass still managed to soak both our clothes and gear. By the time we had reached the inside of the park—the rain had begun falling once again as we took cover from both sight and nature in the picnic shelter of an abandoned amusement park.
Former ticket booth.
Fun Spot had originally opened in 1956—one of just a handful of amusement parks in Indiana. The family-owned place thrived in a time when local, small parks were still a staple of American summers in small towns (such as this one) before the likes of Cedar Point, Kings Island and Six Flags were at their peak. In the wake of the proliferation of corporate theme parks, many local amusement parks met their demise and were abandoned (you may recall a similar story in the original QC/D post about Americana/LeSourdsville Lake Amusement Park back in 2007).
Fun Spot was unique, though. Its geographic location didn't really allow it to be truly threatened by larger rivals. The local tourism of Indiana's northern lakes and their vacation homes also helped. And over the decades, Fun Spot would attempt to adapt and grow—eventually adding a tiny waterpark and small zoo that featured white bengal tigers.
In its later years, however—the park had sporadic, irregular operating hours and eventually shut its doors while blaming "the economy” in 2008 for its final season.
Cars from the "Flying Scooters" in storage under one of the park's picnic shelters.
As the rain continued to pour, we had a look around the picnic shelter. Vehicles from the park's "Flying Scooters" ride could be found, still brandishing the Fun Spot name. Ironically, these cars had been purchased for Fun Spot's model of the ride from the aforementioned Americana after it had closed in 2002. And once again, they were now sitting in storage at a closed park.
Animal themed trash can tops.
Park benches, picnic tables and trash cans could be found amongst the numerous ride vehicles. The similarities to Americana were incredibly eerie—Fun Spot’s final owners having used the same tactics to protect their property from the elements after a closure. Eventually, the rain truly stopped and the forecast on my phone proved true—a humid sun was moving into the area. Still soaked in rainwater, we moved out to see the rest of the park.
One of the empty midways.
In a forgotten amusement park, the absence of people is even more apparent compared to all the factories, schools, train stations, and countless other abandoned places I've been. It’s fairly easy to imagine what those places might have been like when they were thriving, but I never experienced them (or anything like them) firsthand. Amusement parks, however, I'm very familiar with—having spent many summers working at Kings Island. And an amusement park devoid of all people is an incredibly surreal place.
What I appreciate about places like this, though (and the carnival from last week's update) is what they represent and say about our society. At one point, destinations like Fun Spot, Americana, and the local fairs that rolled through were regarded as getaways and entertainment destinations. They were symbols of a genuine American culture (for right or wrong). After the rise of the large theme park chains, places like this became almost second rate. Suddenly, it was all about what blockbuster movie could the new rides be themed after and who could make the next, best thing taller and faster. The large amusement parks kicked the charm of the smaller parks to the curb and became almost like fast food restaurants. You won’t find simple attractions like "The House of Glass" at Cedar Point, Kings Island, Disney, or Universal.
Gordon Bombay and Jeff representing QC/D in "The House of Glass."
Strolling around to one of the former maintenance areas, we came across a graveyard of sorts. Former food carts and roller coaster cars were rusting in the weeds, most having probably been sitting there since even before the park had closed for good. We passed the arcade and more closed rides such as a small kids coaster, a swinging pirate ship, and the unfortunately named “Zyklon."
Fun Spot had three roller coasters. Like many of the park's rides, "The Zyklon" was actually a "fair model," meaning it could be easily taken down and transported along with a traveling carnival or fair. Smaller parks often purchased these types of rides and made them permanent installations. "The Zyklon" features a similar layout to the "Pepsi Python" at Cincinnati's Coney Island. Having ridden the Python before, I would assume that the Zyklon wasn't that good of a ride.
The steel track of "The Zyklon."
As we browsed through the control boxes and operator booths of the rides, it was interesting to read the instructions and manuals that had been placed there by the park's management. As someone who is familiar with ride operations, it’s always interesting to compare and see how other parks go about their procedures.
EDIT some years later: What I was really saying a the time was: the keys I had on me (for another park’s rides) were the same as, fit into, and theoretically worked with: this park’s rides.
"The Matterhorn," a ride that was supposed to simulate an olympic bobsled race?
The asphalt midways led to more rides and steel garage doors that—when they’d once been opened—had revealed the park’s games. This was where numerous kids had forked over multiple dollars in an attempt to win a stuffed animal that probably came over on a shipping container from China after having been assembled by what’s just barely considered above “slave labor.”
The shuttered games building.
The "Tilt-A-Whirl" and Ferris Wheel.
Lee Greenwood eat your heart out.
The Afterburner, Ferris Wheel, and Scrambler.
I don't really remember visiting Fun Spot as a kid aside from some vague memories of riding a little boat ride. One thing I did remember clearly, though, was the sign that advertised the park's main attraction. Brandished with an F-15 Eagle fighter jet, it proclaimed the park’s signature rides and was easily visible every nearby road.
“The All American Coaster!”
A locked gate was no match for our climbing skills as we raced up the stairs to: “The Afterburner.”
Some Arrow Dynamics bullshit.
If you're a dork like me and know too much about roller coasters, you'd know that this coaster is historically significant. It was the first working prototype of its kind and many Cincinnatians have probably ridden one similar to it. A nearly-identical model existed at Kings Island between 1977 and 1987 as "The Screamin' Demon." Kings Island's had been the first model of its type to open at a major park and was considered one of the first modern, looping roller coasters.
The "Screamin' Demon at Kings Island. Photo from Cincinnati Views.
The Afterburner at Fun Spot had originated as Arrow Dynamic's initial prototype—on display at their headquarters in Clearfield, Utah. Eventually, they opened “The Demon” at Kings Island and then sold their prototype to a park in Florida. Once that park closed, Fun Spot purchased the ride, relocated it, and re-branded it as "The Afterburner." (The Kings Island model would end up being sold to Camden Park of West Virgina in 1987 and eventually scrapped by that park in 2004).
"The Afterburner."
Known as "shuttle loops," these coaster types could be found at many parks throughout the country in the late 1970's. Arrow Dynamics quickly came out with bigger and better designs and the shuttle loops were soon found to be obsolete. Not many still operate today.
Initially, “The Afterburner” prototype had featured an elevator to bring guests to the station. Over the years, though, the elevator was replaced with stairs. If you had accessibility needs and wanted to ride Fun Spot’s signature ride, well: you were shit out of luck
Up in the station, the ride still featured its original trains.
Front seat on "The Afterburner."
Until 2008, this was the only looping roller coaster in the state of Indiana. While unimpressive in comparison to the massive coasters at the larger parks of today, the single loop and fading white track did stand out on the skyline above the surrounding fields and treetops of Steuben County, Indiana.
The ride’s simple layout.
The Afterburner’s operator panel.
Making our way down from the station platform of The Afterburner, we still had to see one more thing. There was this one particular ride I could remember being on as a kid—one where you sat in little boats, pretended to drive, and went in a circle. The boats had a little bell you could even ring. I could specifically remember riding it while visiting the park with my grandmother and mom when I was really young (being a bit older: Jeff remembered riding a lot more of the rides in the park (in addition to having once vomited after riding said boats)).
A sign of a bygone era, these horse and buggy rides are now few and far between.
We searched through the park relics in another picnic shelter—coming across the cars to a horse and chariot ride, a ride that is really rare to find in parks these days. Finally, we came across the last thing we needed to see: those little boats:
They had "God Bless America" stickers slapped on their backs, carrying on the park's theme of "The All American Coaster" and the numerous other examples of propaganda that could be found throughout the closed park. Just for old time's sake—throwing back to the one memory I had of this place when it was open—I had to reach out and ring the bell on one of the little boats. The soft "ding" echoed throughout the closed park.
Update | May 28, 2018:
I found myself passing through Angola again and saw that Fun Spot was mostly demolished. A local Rugby club now uses part of the property and some park buildings still stand, but all of the rides have been removed. Essentially, the park is no more.
Update | October 1, 2025:
I passed by this area somewhat recently and I tell you what: Caruso’s is damn good.