Mirror Walt Disney World

DisneyManOne

Well-Known Member
Original Poster
And now, let us explore Frontierland's biggest claim to fame...

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Western River Expedition

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The crown jewel of Frontierland, Western River Expedition remains Marc Davis’ greatest achievement in his long career with Disney. One of the defining attractions of the Magic Kingdom, this epic Western adventure has delighted guests ever since it debuted as part of the Magic Kingdom’s Bicentennial Celebration in 1976. And now, almost 50 years later, it still puts smiles on everyone’s face! Well, enough jabberin’, let’s find out why this ride’s a classic!

At 130 feet in height, Thunder Mesa is one impressionable piece of nature, and can be seen from various vantage points throughout the Magic Kingdom. Thunder Mesa is a marvel unto itself - a towering, ever-present, landmark mountain range of rusted hoodoos, arches, and waterfalls topped with distant dwarf evergreens, the miniature huts of Plains Indians, and a complete frontier town nestled along its base. Not far from this small frontier township is an enormous ore elevator, our suited entrance into the attraction and into the base of the towering mountain itself. We enter a mine shaft at the base of the elevator and proceed through a series of long-abandoned, underground mining tunnels. We make our way through the shadowy bowels of Thunder Mesa Mountain past rusted ore cars, arsenals, excavation equipment, and the long-forgotten tracks of a former mining operation.


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Passing through the subterranean passageways of the Thunder Mesa Mining Operation, we emerge from the darkness in the leftmost show building -- there are three major show buildings used in the ride -- and into a romantic, technicolor sunset cast down upon the orange hoodoos and lush waterfalls of a desert canyon. Crossing over a natural arch, we look down and see a line of boats that will soon take us on our journey, some returning to the load area, others now loading and departing. The air is cool and the sunset is brilliant, with hues of pink, orange, red, and blue. A few fluffy clouds, a la Toy Story, float across the romantic sky. Coyotes can be heard howling in the distance, along with the soothing sound of early evening crickets and the occasional rattlesnake. The ride’s theme song, “The Ballad of Thunder Mesa” (a variation on “The Ballad of Pecos Bill”) plays in the style of a Hollywood Western as our trail climbs down the walls of the canyon and into the loading area amid trees and brush typical of the American Southwest. The canyon’s waterfalls cascade down into trickling streams splashing alongside the load area.

We’ll make our journey aboard an old, six-row boat -- the same kind of watercraft used in Pirates of the Caribbean and “it’s a small world.” Like with Pirates, this boat is designed to look like wood, but here, there’s a far more rustic tone about it -- almost as if the wood has been salvaged from a scrapyard. Furthermore, each boat is christened with a name that reflects a Western hero
(i;e Pecos Bill, Annie Oakley, Davy Crockett, etc.). As we board, we hear the voice of our narrator, a wise old owl named Hoot Gibson (voiced by Disney legend Dallas McKennon), giving the safety spiel: “Hooo! Hooo! Howdy, everybody! Heading for a cruise ‘round the riverbend, are we? Well then, for your safety, please stay seated and keep your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the rowboat, and please watch your young’uns. Oh, and be sure to stow your personal belongin’s away. There’s bandits ‘round these parts. Enjoy the frontier now, ya hear?”

Our boat pulls away from the canyon and glides through a picturesque landscape under the perfect soft, summer sunset, bathed in warmth and scored by the music of nature itself. An encampment of Plains Indians sits just off to the left, the remnants of a campfire smoking heavenward. Though Native Americans are not visible, we can hear a Shaman inside one of the tepees, spinning a tale for his grandchildren through music and chanting. Further left is the infinite horizon of the American West, a verdant landscape dotted by literal purple mountains and fruited plains.

Our boat rolls deeper into the wilderness, straight ahead to the mouth of a great cave in the base of a rocky mountainside. The Devil’s Paint Pots, an elusive, desert mystery, bubble in all kinds of colors before the entrance to the cave. With the colorful mud bubbling and popping to the tune of the music, we enter the cave and into a long, dimly lit cavern.


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We drift into a cavernous grotto dimly illuminated by the sunset spilling into the catacombs from the surface above. Hundreds of stalactites and stalagmites surround us, with only the dripping of water as company. Then, the eerie melody of rhythmic drums. We first see a stalactite shaped like a rabbit. From inside the “rabbit,” the drums begin to play. We glide past more stalactites in the shape of familiar Old West figures -- a coyote, a cowboy, an old man. From inside each stalactite, the music gets louder, until the entire cavern is filled with the ethereal music, and more familiar shapes overwhelm the whimsical rock-work.

Sitting atop the cowboy is Hoot Gibson himself. Like the skull of Pirates, he gives us a little introduction to the adventures ahead: “Hooo! Hooo! Roamin’ the ol’ frontier, are ya? No better place for a good adventure if you ask me. Some of the best adventures happen right here in the west, and nights like these remind me of the good ol’ days of cowboys and pioneers…”

We slip outdoors and gently roll through a warm desert at dusk. The “Ballad of Thunder Mesa” continues from the ethereal music of the caverns, though this time in the vein of a melodramatic, minor key score to a silent film. Above our wagon and off to the left, a railroad track runs on a rocky bluff - an authentic steam train rumbles past, the Walt Disney World Railroad passing through. If the passengers aboard the Walt Disney World Railroad were to look out across this simulated desert, their view would be our next sight: a true-to-form stagecoach robbery on an overhead trestle.

Oh, and incidentally, across the way is
another diorama, depicting the four seasons -- and involving various bears getting involved in humorous situations regarding those seasons. Given that the seats on the Walt Disney World Railroad trains are situated in the middle of each car, and not off to the side, Marc Davis decided to take advantage of it and create two distinct dioramas on either side.

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Masked bandits on masked horses, complete with their own variation on the theme song, seem too occupied with their latest crime to bother us - though, the leader, a menacing fellow in a top hat, suggests through song we’ll meet again. The sinister leader rides on the back of a masked grizzly bear.

“The Ballad of Thunder Mesa - Bandit Lyrics”
To the Tune of “The Ballad of Pecos Bill”
Written by @MANEATINGWREATH


BANDIT LEADER

Oh, my friends, you see, you’ve got yourselves some trouble
You’ve seen our faces, and that’s not good in the least

ALL BANDITS
We’re the roughest, toughest bandits, never known to say dang-nabbit!
And we never have no fear of man nor beast!
So yippee-i-ay-i-ay, yippee-i-o!

STAGECOACH PASSENGERS
They’re the toughest critters west of the Alamo!

BANDIT LEADER
Quiet, you varmints!
(One of the BANDITS fires at the PASSENGERS. The STAGECOACH HORSES whinny.)
Where was I? Ah, yes…
(SINGS)
Now you’ve seen us, we’re the meanest, causing trouble!
We’re crooked villains, with no fillings in our teeth!

ALL BANDITS
We’ll chase you down and all around
‘Til you’re our captive, and our clown!

BANDIT LEADER
We’ll meet again, I don’t know when, but just you see!

ALL BANDITS
So yippee-i-ay-i-ay, yippee-i-o!

STAGECOACH PASSENGERS
They’re the toughest critters west of the Alamo!

BANDIT LEADER
I said, QUIET!!!
(One of the BANDITS fires at the PASSENGERS. The STAGECOACH HORSES whinny.)
That’s better…

Not wanting any trouble, our boat picks up speed, darting under the stagecoach trestle and hastily dipping over a number of rolling “sand dunes” and hairpin turns around cacti and rocks. Our boat slows to a leisurely pace as we continue into a desert prairie at twilight, in awe at the fluffy clouds floating across the endless, night sky, and distant rock formations silhouetted against the twinkling stars and silhouettes of howling coyotes on the horizon.

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A family of buffalo gather around a group of prairie dogs popping in and out of their burrows; the visible, distant coyotes howl; the underscore music swells from “The Ballad of Thunder Mesa” to a different and more sentimental tune: “Home on the Range.” Nearby, a cowboy sings to calm his musical, bellowing cattle under the soft moonlight. Even his lanky horse joins in the song.

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A chuck wagon parked along the trail serves as a base camp for the cowboy’s comrades, whose guitar and harmonica playing around a campfire join the arrangement of “Home on the Range” as the wide-eyed cook sings along. Of course, all the cowpokes are joined by an entire chorus of singing cacti…



(52:04 -- 54:41)


The placid strumming of “Home on the Range” transitions into a honky tonk piano arrangement of “The Ballad of Thunder Mesa.” Raucous shouting, gunfire, and general “yippin’” and “hollerin’” has filled the air. Rounding the corner from the prairie, we ride onward and into the little pioneer town of Dry Gulch. Hoot Gibson, now wearing a cowboy hat, appears on a tree branch as we pass into town. “Ah, Dry Gulch. This is the place where the miners went to spend their newfound fortunes. Every night was like a wild hoedown, and greed and depravity ruled the land...”

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It’s a Saturday night in Dry Gulch, and the technicolor streets are alive with revelry. The influence and intense color stylization of Mary Blair is perhaps most evident in Dry Gulch. The right side of the town is bathed in bright, blue moonlight, with the various buildings standing out against the hue in shades of green clapboard and yellow windows, whereas the left side of the town is bathed in fiery, burning red, courtesy of the setting sun, with impossibly long shadows cast by the warmly-lit buildings. On either side of town, towering canyon walls loom beneath the vast expanse of the evening sky. Our wagon travels through town at a comfortable pace, not excluding the opportunity to catch a gag on either side of this chaotic, masterclass scene in Marc Davis design.

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-- Right Side --

A trio of dance hall girls sing “The Ballad of Thunder Mesa,” performing cancan kicks, cheered on by cowboys. A drunkard on horseback (his horse also drunk) is about ready to topple over, while his fellow drunk, another horseback cowpoke, has somehow managed to get his horse onto the roof of “Big Jack’s Saloon,” firing his six-shooters into the air. Most townspeople look on with general distaste, one woman covering her child’s ears, while the saloon’s bartender wags his fist and shouts insults at the rooftop deviant … but that’s nothing compared to the insults of the seemingly sweet little old lady!

BARTENDER: Get down from there at once, you no-good cowpoke!
COWBOY: Yeehaw! I’ve never felt this good! I’m a flying eagle!
BARTENDER: I’ll call the cavalry on you in an instant! You piece of rat fodder!
MOTHER: Don’t listen, Billy, these men are bad.
GRANDMOTHER: Hush, Sarah! Get down here you rascally, flea-bitten varmint! Curse you and your drunkard friends!
COWBOY: Aw, come on, Bartender! Can’t we all just get along?
BARTENDER: I’m not your friend, you filthy son of a gun! A pox on your house!
COWBOY: I’m a cowpoke, I have no house!
MOTHER: Never become a cowboy, Billy, they’re horrible men.
GRANDMOTHER: Shut up, Sarah! Your father was a cowboy and I was a cowgirl. I give in. Stay up there, you filthy cowboy! A pox on your house, Mr. Shop Owner.
BARTENDER: Mrs. The Kid? What happened to you?
GRANDMOTHER: I’m a cowgirl at heart, you sorry excuse for a human.
MOTHER: Mother!

Not far from the chaos, an old-time photographer snaps a photo of a smiling cowpoke with his arm wrapped around a stuffed bear (only 10 cents!). More chaos ensues outside the “Diamondback Lounge” next door, where the house pianist has been wheeled outside to underscore the mayhem. A showgirl on the front porch has kicked her leg so high that it’s snagged the shirt collar of a cowboy now hoisted in the air and struggling to get back down. The nearby cowpokes, one in which rides on the shoulders of another, sing, laugh, and toast their moonshine to the sight. In a subtle nod to Pirates of the Caribbean, the silhouette of a cowboy chasing a showgirl can be seen in the upstairs window, though both seem to be enjoying the chase, as both giggle and shout playful taunts of “I’m gonna getcha” back and forth.

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Surrounded by tall torches, a Snake Oil Salesman, the mustached “Doc Edwards,” has established his wagon-shop at the end of the right side of the street, showcasing his wares with the help of a grinning muscleman, with music provided by a grizzled prospector and a gangly woman on banjo and flute. Doc Edwards has reeled in an audience - ourselves, two children, and a quartet of pigs.

DOC EDWARDS: Alright, ladies and gentlemen, step right up! Step right up! That’s right, folks. No pushing and shoving, there’s room for all. Observe, my friends, the wonder of Doc Edwards Extraordinary, Foolproof, Muscle-Growth Magic Elixir. That’s right, folks. That’s Doc Edwards Extraordinary, Foolproof, Muscle-Growth Magic Elixir. You’ll experience the most amazing, the most incredible, the absolutely most sensational growth of your biceps, triceps, and every muscle in between! Take a look at our strongman here. He used to be a child like you, but with one bottle of this miracle elixir, here he stands today, an overnight transformation from little boy to giant man! And by the time you’ve finished just one bottle, one bottle, mind you, not two, not three, buy ten, of Doc Edwards miracle elixir, you’ll praise its potent pleasures and find yourself the next Paul Bunyan of this great frontier. Don’t hesitate, don’t wait, it’s here now, and here today! Get your magic elixir! Get it now! Doc Edwards Extraordinary, Foolproof, Muscle-Growth Magic Elixir!

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-- Left Side --

The left side of Dry Gulch, with sight gags and scenes happening concurrently with the right side, is awash in the brilliant red color of the setting sun, with your typical Western bank robbery and shootout well underway. The sheriff’s deputy and his horse, both asleep, have failed to notice the underground tunneling trailing below them from the nearby jailhouse. The jailhouse, of course, has a changeable sign that reads “NO VACANCY.” Fearsome robbers have looted the local bank, having even pulled an entire safe out to use as a shield, firing Colt 45s from their varied hiding places. Nervous soldiers of the United States cavalry answer back from the windows of a bathhouse. The sheriff, clad in shaving cream and a polka-dot apron, has emerged from the tonsorial parlor, returning fire. A Calamity Jane-style deputy takes her time deciding on which target to aim at first, while cowpoke minstrels sing that titular “Ballad of Thunder Mesa,” all whilst avoiding the rampant gunfire. And, at the end of the street, a grinning mortician (with advertised “24 hour service”) fiddles with his favorite measuring tape, sizing up his potential clients for the foreseeable future.

And by the way, if’n you’re curious about how “The Ballad of Thunder Mesa” sounds ‘round these parts, here are the lyrics…


“The Ballad of Thunder Mesa - Dry Gulch Lyrics”
Written by @MANEATINGWREATH

CHORUS

Oh, Thunder Mesa is a legend here in the West
With painted deserts, drinkin’ cowpoke, in the least.
The town of Dry Gulch is a danger
But come in, don’t be a stranger!
We’re friendly to all folk, including man or beast!
So yippee-i-ay-i-ay, yippee-i-o
We’re the toughest town just west of the Alamo!

Oh, Thunder Mesa is our humble little abode
So have a drink, kick off yer boots, and heavy load
You’ll mine a fortune and can keep it
Play some poker, win a trinket,
But if you cheat you’ll get yourself bruised up for sure!
So yippee-i-ay-i-ay, yippee-i-o
We’re the toughest town just west of the Alamo!

Oh, Thunder Mesa has more gold than El Dorado
You’ll strike it rich, make true your wish, go high from low
But if that gold’s seen by some robbers
Well, my friend, you’ll just get clobbered
Don’t call the sheriff, he’s no good, he’s just too slow
So yippee-i-ay-i-ay, yippee-i-o
We’re the toughest town just west of the Alamo!

As we depart from the town of Dry Gulch, we pass under a bridge, currently occupied by a hollerin’ cowpoke firing his six-shooters, and a rather disgruntled Native American man covering his ears in disapproval.

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The sound of bullets and music is soon replaced by the caw of a lonesome crow. Vultures circle overhead, with two vultures already having perched on a gnarled tree branch to watch our boat with eager eyes. The water becomes a bit treacherous as our boat starts to pick up speed through the rugged terrain of “Boot Hill,” a desolate cemetery of wooden gravemarkers, tumbleweeds, and unfriendly-looking cacti. A coyote howls. Ominous digging can be heard from within an open grave, a fresh pile of dirt and a lantern nearby. Lightning from a gathering rainstorm on the horizon illuminates the distant silhouette of the mountains.

Storm clouds have now gathered overhead, and bolts of lightning tear across the sky. Rain begins thundering down on a distant plain. Our boat picks up additional speed, venturing toward a rather ominous-looking forest straight ahead at the base of a rugged plateau…


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Thunder and lightning now overwhelms the sky. Flooding water begins to pour into the canyon from the buttes above to the left and right, spattering on jagged rocks. We begin a steep climb up a waterfall toward the plateau. The eyes of unknown animals flash in the dark around us. At the top of the waterfall, we find ourselves in a dark, ominous-looking forest. The rain continues to fall, but a bolt of lightning has set the trees on either side of us ablaze. The once-peaceful journey has gone from bad to worse, as we arrive at the top of the toppled tree and creep onto the forested peak of the plateau, ravaged by the wildfire.

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The tallest trees have already begun to topple, and several charred timbers creak and moan, flames dancing in all directions. We can feel the intense heat on our skin as flames burst from all around us and smoke fills the air. We barely escape getting crushed by a tall pine as it falls from the earth and topples into a diagonal collapse above our heads. Unlike the fiery finale of Pirates of the Caribbean, this raging forest fire offers the illusion that danger is imminent. In fact, most of the fire effects in close proximity with our vehicle are produced by REAL FLAME.

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Things have only gone from bad to worse… The bandits from earlier have caught up with our boat, and sure enough, they fully intend on robbing us in the midst of this raging forest fire.

BANDIT LEADER: Well, well, my friends, you’ve got yourselves into some trouble!
BANDIT #2: Hee-hee… Trouble…
BANDIT LEADER: (Whispers) Quiet! (Louder) I’ll help ya outta here… But first… Stick ‘em up!

Our boat comes to a screeching halt. The grizzly bear used as a “horse” by the Bandit Leader, gives a ferocious snarl.

BANDIT LEADER: Fork over all yer precious baubles and coins… That’s right… Silly hats and glasses need not apply.
BANDIT #2: Hee-hee… Silly hats…
BANDIT LEADER: (Whispers) I said, quiet! (Louder) This is the end of the line, amigos. Hands up! And keep yerself seated… There’s no escapin’ now! Fire!

One of the bandits fires his pistol heavenward. This spooks the leader’s grizzly bear, which rears like a horse and gives an agitated roar. Moving quickly, our boat rips through the forest fire and into a pitch-black cave, before toppling down a waterfall an 80-foot plunge into a dark cave below.

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As the boat recovers from the mighty splashdown, we find ourselves immersed beneath a tube-shaped night-sky, glistening stars and distant planets everywhere, almost like an IMAX screen mixed with a theatrical set. A shooting star flies across the sky in a brilliant flash, suddenly changing the stars into constellations resembling countless western icons. As if by magic, many of the constellations even come to life, the animals making noise, Native American children running about, etc. “The Ballad of Thunder Mesa” is given a triumphant instrumental reprise, counterpointed with “Happy Trails to You”, signifying the end of the journey. Hoot Gibson glides in on a little rowboat, dressed as a fisherman, complete with line cast in the water and pole in his wings. “Ain’t nothing like a western adventure, eh? Oh, but dont be sad. There’ll always be a day for another adventure out on the ol’ western frontier. But until then, as that song says, ‘happy trails to you until we meet again!’” Rounding a bend, the nighttime cavern leads out into the very same cavern where our Western River Expedition began. We disembark from our sturdy boat and resume our westward journeys in Frontierland, or perhaps take a second ride on Western River Expedition.

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Once again, I must thank @MANEATINGWREATH very much for inspiring this ride-through -- as most of it was taken from his Thunder Mesa Expedition, a version combining WRE with Test Track, so all credit goes out to him -- as well as Passport to Dreams Old and New, a blog that went into great detail to describe the concept of the ride, and from whom I utilized many of the pictures seen here.

Now, I was considering doing walk-throughs for Liberty Square's two big attractions, but I figured, October is quickly coming up, so I'll wait till then. So, with that in mind, the next few walk-throughs will involve Fantasyland.
 

DisneyManOne

Well-Known Member
Original Poster
Happy Halloween, everybody! As promised, here are ride-throughs of two of the Magic Kingdom's spookiest attractions, and both are located in Liberty Square.

~ ~ ~

Ichabod Crane’s Midnight Escape

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A ride based on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is an idea as old as the Magic Kingdom itself. This idea was originally pitched for Fantasyland, basically serving as the Floridian analogue for Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. But, those plans were put on the kibosh once one Imagineer realized that a Legend of Sleepy Hollow ride would better fit Liberty Square than Fantasyland. Hence, those plans were out and Alice in Wonderland (or Robin Hood and the Royal Tournament, depending on which MWDW you are focusing on) went on in its place.

The entrance to the ride is the house nearby Independence Hall -- the one with three white doors. The entrance to the ride is through the left-hand door, while the exit is through the right-hand door. Hanging above these three doors is a sign, depicting the title of the ride, as well as Ichabod being chased by the Headless Horseman. Stepping through the entrance door, disregarding the warnings that this ride is quite scary, we find ourselves before a mural depicting Sleepy Hollow, as it appeared all those years ago. It’s Halloween night, and all the streets are dark and quiet. Among the town’s establishments are the Bakery and Ye Olde Schnooker Shoppe, and the town’s clock tower, perpetually stuck at midnight. There is not much sound to be heard, though faint background instrumentals of “Ichabod Crane”, “Katrina” and “The Headless Horseman” offer a playful tone to ease our nerves. At the edge of town, the buildings look out towards the country road. Suddenly, an old-fashioned surrey rolls along the dirt road. These surreys are decked in autumn tones -- orange, red, black, purple, green and gold -- and, like the Mr. Toad cars, have the name of a different character from The Legend of Sleepy Hollow on them: Ichabod, Katrina, Brom, Baltus, Tilda, Gunpowder (that’s Ichabod’s horse) and Daredevil (that’s Brom’s horse). As we board, we hear the voice of an old-timer: “Welcome to Sleepy Hollow, my friends! As you tour our little town, please remain seated in your surrey with your hands, arms, feet and legs inside at all times, and do watch your young’uns. Oh, and be sure to watch out for that Headless Horseman!”

With that ominous warning in our ears, we set forth along the road. As we round the corner, we find out why the streets are so quiet -- everyone in town is at Baltus van Tassel’s house for his annual Halloween shindig!


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Heading inside the house, audience of villagers watch in awe as Brom Bones stands on a soap crate singing about the Headless Horseman. Turning away from the song, the guests pass Ichabod Crane who timidly hides behind a fallen chair as beautiful Katrina sits on the other side of the room laughing at his fear.

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Heading out, we notice the trees starting to blow in the wind. Going deeper into the woods, the atmosphere becomes darker and more foreboding. A haunting wind can be heard, along the occasional distant cry of a dog. We pass by what looks like a robed phantom with outstretched limbs…until slight lighting adjustments reveal it to just be a weirdly-shaped tree with fireflies looking like eyes. An owl stares out of the darkness at us, giving an occasional hoot as we pass.


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Further on, we see some life in the woods, though it doesn’t ease our nerves. We pass projected shadows of crickets rubbing their legs, making a noise that sounds like “Ichabod.” Another projected shadow this time shows a frog, whose croaking pattern sounds like “Headless Horseman.” A crow flies overhead, cawing “Beware!” A wooden bridge creaks as we roll atop it, and an occasional splash can be heard. Eventually, we take a break from the woods and enter through a graveyard. The sound of what seems like hooves fills the air. However, it turns out to be some cattail plants drumming against a log. You see? There’s nothing to fear!


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Suddenly, a demented cackle fills the air. Thunder cracks! The sky turns red! Quickly turning the corner, like a jump scare in a horror movie, there he is! The Headless Horseman, atop his red-eyed horse, sword and skull held in his hands!

Gaining tremendous speed in order to avoid the Horseman, our surrey takes us on a winding way through the dark woods once more, the sound of steady hoofbeats filling the air. Once such turn takes us past a gap in the trees where a flash of purple light reveals the Headless Horseman. The vehicles dip down quickly as the Horseman laughs evilly and swipes his sword at guests, just barely missing their heads. Hurrying on down the twisting path, we see a directional sign that reads “COVERED BRIDGE.” Following the path, we can see the covered bridge in front of us, offering our escape. As we approach the bridge, we hear a whispering voice remind us that this is the Horseman’s weakness: “Once you cross that bridge, my friends, the ghost is through, his power ends.” The Headless Horseman appears once more, and he is none too happy that we are making our escape. He holds out his jack-o-lantern. His laughter fills the air as we rush for the bridge, entering in and heading for the other side. As we do so, a hidden air jet fires some wind around our head and shoulders, as if something were thrown past our heads from behind.

We emerge from the covered bridge, still in the woods but with daylight creeping through the branches. Our surrey comes to a stop, allowing us to disembark. As we approach the exit path, on our right-hand side, we can see a knocked over tricorner hat on the ground, lying right next to a broken pumpkin. We can also see a trail of hoofprints that lead us to the exit, and back into Liberty Square.

Here is a map detailing the exact layout of the ride within the old Hall of Presidents theater.


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~ ~ ~

This ride idea was inspired by a walk-through designed for the 1986 Competition by the following: @AceAstro, @Brer Panther, @b-wolf95, @DashHaber, @D Hulk, @goofyyukyukyuk17, @Mickeynerd17, @NateD1226, @NigelChanning, @Outbound, @PerGron, @Pi on my Cake, @pix, @Pufflefan and @spacemt354. Thank you all very much!

Ah, but the scary fun has just begun, foolish mortals. Join me later tonight, when we'll take a tour of a certain house...
 

DisneyFan32

Well-Known Member
In the Parks
Yes
Happy Halloween, everybody! As promised, here are ride-throughs of two of the Magic Kingdom's spookiest attractions, and both are located in Liberty Square.

~ ~ ~

Ichabod Crane’s Midnight Escape

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A ride based on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is an idea as old as the Magic Kingdom itself. This idea was originally pitched for Fantasyland, basically serving as the Floridian analogue for Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. But, those plans were put on the kibosh once one Imagineer realized that a Legend of Sleepy Hollow ride would better fit Liberty Square than Fantasyland. Hence, those plans were out and Alice in Wonderland (or Robin Hood and the Royal Tournament, depending on which MWDW you are focusing on) went on in its place.

The entrance to the ride is the house nearby Independence Hall -- the one with three white doors. The entrance to the ride is through the left-hand door, while the exit is through the right-hand door. Hanging above these three doors is a sign, depicting the title of the ride, as well as Ichabod being chased by the Headless Horseman. Stepping through the entrance door, disregarding the warnings that this ride is quite scary, we find ourselves before a mural depicting Sleepy Hollow, as it appeared all those years ago. It’s Halloween night, and all the streets are dark and quiet. Among the town’s establishments are the Bakery and Ye Olde Schnooker Shoppe, and the town’s clock tower, perpetually stuck at midnight. There is not much sound to be heard, though faint background instrumentals of “Ichabod Crane”, “Katrina” and “The Headless Horseman” offer a playful tone to ease our nerves. At the edge of town, the buildings look out towards the country road. Suddenly, an old-fashioned surrey rolls along the dirt road. These surreys are decked in autumn tones -- orange, red, black, purple, green and gold -- and, like the Mr. Toad cars, have the name of a different character from The Legend of Sleepy Hollow on them: Ichabod, Katrina, Brom, Baltus, Tilda, Gunpowder (that’s Ichabod’s horse) and Daredevil (that’s Brom’s horse). As we board, we hear the voice of an old-timer: “Welcome to Sleepy Hollow, my friends! As you tour our little town, please remain seated in your surrey with your hands, arms, feet and legs inside at all times, and do watch your young’uns. Oh, and be sure to watch out for that Headless Horseman!”

With that ominous warning in our ears, we set forth along the road. As we round the corner, we find out why the streets are so quiet -- everyone in town is at Baltus van Tassel’s house for his annual Halloween shindig!


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Heading inside the house, audience of villagers watch in awe as Brom Bones stands on a soap crate singing about the Headless Horseman. Turning away from the song, the guests pass Ichabod Crane who timidly hides behind a fallen chair as beautiful Katrina sits on the other side of the room laughing at his fear.

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Heading out, we notice the trees starting to blow in the wind. Going deeper into the woods, the atmosphere becomes darker and more foreboding. A haunting wind can be heard, along the occasional distant cry of a dog. We pass by what looks like a robed phantom with outstretched limbs…until slight lighting adjustments reveal it to just be a weirdly-shaped tree with fireflies looking like eyes. An owl stares out of the darkness at us, giving an occasional hoot as we pass.

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Further on, we see some life in the woods, though it doesn’t ease our nerves. We pass projected shadows of crickets rubbing their legs, making a noise that sounds like “Ichabod.” Another projected shadow this time shows a frog, whose croaking pattern sounds like “Headless Horseman.” A crow flies overhead, cawing “Beware!” A wooden bridge creaks as we roll atop it, and an occasional splash can be heard. Eventually, we take a break from the woods and enter through a graveyard. The sound of what seems like hooves fills the air. However, it turns out to be some cattail plants drumming against a log. You see? There’s nothing to fear!

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Suddenly, a demented cackle fills the air. Thunder cracks! The sky turns red! Quickly turning the corner, like a jump scare in a horror movie, there he is! The Headless Horseman, atop his red-eyed horse, sword and skull held in his hands!

Gaining tremendous speed in order to avoid the Horseman, our surrey takes us on a winding way through the dark woods once more, the sound of steady hoofbeats filling the air. Once such turn takes us past a gap in the trees where a flash of purple light reveals the Headless Horseman. The vehicles dip down quickly as the Horseman laughs evilly and swipes his sword at guests, just barely missing their heads. Hurrying on down the twisting path, we see a directional sign that reads “COVERED BRIDGE.” Following the path, we can see the covered bridge in front of us, offering our escape. As we approach the bridge, we hear a whispering voice remind us that this is the Horseman’s weakness: “Once you cross that bridge, my friends, the ghost is through, his power ends.” The Headless Horseman appears once more, and he is none too happy that we are making our escape. He holds out his jack-o-lantern. His laughter fills the air as we rush for the bridge, entering in and heading for the other side. As we do so, a hidden air jet fires some wind around our head and shoulders, as if something were thrown past our heads from behind.

We emerge from the covered bridge, still in the woods but with daylight creeping through the branches. Our surrey comes to a stop, allowing us to disembark. As we approach the exit path, on our right-hand side, we can see a knocked over tricorner hat on the ground, lying right next to a broken pumpkin. We can also see a trail of hoofprints that lead us to the exit, and back into Liberty Square.

Here is a map detailing the exact layout of the ride within the old Hall of Presidents theater.



This ride idea was inspired by a walk-through designed for the 1986 Competition by the following: @AceAstro, @Brer Panther, @b-wolf95, @DashHaber, @D Hulk, @goofyyukyukyuk17, @Mickeynerd17, @NateD1226, @NigelChanning, @Outbound, @PerGron, @Pi on my Cake, @pix, @Pufflefan and @spacemt354. Thank you all very much!

Ah, but the scary fun has just begun, foolish mortals. Join me later tonight, when we'll take a tour of a certain house...

I wonder what Roger Rabbit's Runaway Trolley ridethrough looks like? @DisneyManOne
 

DisneyManOne

Well-Known Member
Original Poster
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The Haunted Mansion

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Often considered to be one of the crowning achievements of Walt Disney Imagineering, The Haunted Mansion is one of the Magic Kingdom’s headlining attractions. A delightful blend of both the macabre and the mirthful, what lurks inside this house is anyone’s guess.




Our adventure begins in Liberty Square, a picturesque relic of a New England seaport as it appeared well over two centuries ago. Before us: twin brick columns kept beneath the watchful eye of snarling, stone lions. On either column: a bronze shield in which the title, “The Haunted Mansion,” is engraved. Atop either shield, we see the horned head of a phantom frozen in a scream amidst writhing hair and ribbon, all carved from bronze. The lonesome howl of a hound … or quite possibly, a wolf … calls for us to travel across the threshold and into the lonesome yet meticulously landscaped estate of this old “house on the hill.”

The old Colonial manor has been left as spectacular as it was before the untimely deaths of its mysterious owners. Devoted groundskeepers abide by a distant relative’s wish to “Take care of the outside, and let the ghosts take care of the inside.” The walls of this mansion hold within them a treasure trove of acquired antiquities, rare artifacts, priceless paintings, and other valuable, cherished works of art, most commonly of a macabre design or descent.

Going through the gates, we begin our journey through the realms of the unknown with a trek through The Grounds, a cemetery on the outskirts of the manor. A black hearse sits in the forecourt of the manor, decorated with ornate carvings surrounding windows which look into the casket area revealing a sign from the manor’s Ghost Relations Department which reads, “Reservations Accepted. Ghost Relations Department, Walt Disney World. Please do not apply in person!” Its most distinguishing factor is a girdle mounted on what appears to be an invisible, phantom horse. Even stranger, there is also a lead attached to the girdle which appears to float in mid-air, as if a phantom driver is still sitting in the driver’s seat. You can even see horseshoe prints in the pavement leading to the spot where the phantom horse is positioned.


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Stepping past this hearse, a covered walkway leads us further and further into the Grounds. An ethereal wind howls through this ancient boneyard, oft-broken by the omnipresent “orchestra” of nocturnal creatures - wolves, crickets, owls, bats - you name it, you hear it. There isn’t a soul in sight - only the buried inhabitants of this bizarre, sacred ground. The crypts and monuments contrast with the pristine, otherwise benign façade of the adjacent manor house. No music - just the wind and the creatures. Before us lie the tombstones for the various members of the Gracey family…
  • “Master Gracey laid to rest. No mourning please, at his request. Farewell.” A rose can often be found upon this grave, which is always kept in pristine condition.
  • “In memory of our patriarch, dear departed Grandpa Marc.”
  • “At peaceful rest lies Brother Claude, planted here beneath this sod.”
  • “Requiescat Francis Xavier. No time off for good behavior. R.I.P.”
  • “Here lies darling Cousin Victor, he brewed a batch of bad elixir.”
  • “Here lies Phineas Pock, laid to rest beneath this rock. R.I.P.”
  • “Rolo Rumkin lived and died a friendly bumpkin.”
  • “Here rests Wathel R. Bender. He rode to glory on a fender. Peaceful Rest”
  • “Rest in Peace, Cameron Irving. You probably should've thought of swerving.”
  • “In final rest, M. Dibjib. He had to eat that one last rib.”
  • “Loyal friend Esteban Pine no longer has to wait in line.”
  • “Julia Shrub, such a good sport when people would tease her for being so short.”
  • “Aqui descansa Bradford Clemente, demaisiado beber de la fuente.” This Spanish tombstone translates to “Here rests Bradford Clemente, he drank too much from the fountain.” The tombstone also has the inscription of a grape hinting at what sort of fountain he died drinking from.
  • “Dear Sweet Leota, beloved by all, in regions beyond now but having a ball.” Her tombstone has a mould of her face which occasionally pushes out slightly and opens its eyes to look at guests.
  • “Here lies good old Fred. A great big rock fell on his head.”
  • “Rest in peace, Cousin Huet. We all know you didn’t do it.”
  • “Dear departed Brother Dave, he chased a bear into a cave.”
  • “Here lies a man named Martin. The lights went out on this old Spartan.”
  • “R.I.P. good friend Gordon, now you’ve crossed the river Jordan.”
  • “In memoriam Uncle Myall, here you’ll lie for quite a while.”
  • “R.I.P. Mister Sewell, victim of a dirty duel.”
  • “First lady of the opera, our haunting Harriet searched for a tune but never could carry it.”
  • “Colin died in the fall, it’s a fact not withstanding. But the judges admired his form on the landing.”
  • “Farewell forever, Mr. Frees. Your voice will carry on the breeze.”
  • "Drink a toast to our friend Ken. Raise your glass and don’t say ‘when.’”
  • “While Brother Roland here reposes his soul’s above, or one supposes.”
  • “A train made a stain of absent-minded Uncle Blaine. Rest in Peace.”
At the edge of the Grounds is a secret door built within the lower level of Gracey Manor’s entrance. A dour-faced servant stands at the doors to Gracey Manor, only allowing a certain number of people in at a time. At last, the ancient doors open for us with a slow and painful creak... “Enter, and make room for every body.” We step tentatively inside…

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Our first stop: the manor’s grand Foyer. The dark foyer is littered with forgotten relics, many covered by a tarp or over-sized cobweb. An antique, cobweb-covered chandelier flickers little light into the dark room, all too fitting of a haunted house. At the farthest end of the Foyer, our attention is drawn to a formal painted portrait of Master Ambrose Gracey, hanging on the wall above a fireplace. A pipe organ plays a dirge in the distance. More and more people join us inside the Foyer. Suddenly, the doors that lead back outside shut. The lights dim. The pipe organ gets louder and louder. An ominous voice speaks…

“When hinges creak in doorless chambers, and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls... Whenever candlelights flicker where the air is deathly still... That is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight.”

As this voice speaks, the image in the portrait transforms, Dorian Gray-style, from that of a handsome young man to that of a rotting corpse. The room’s lighting is dramatically sapped of “life” at the conclusion of his transformation - even the wallpaper loses its color. At the conclusion of this brief speech, panel in the cellar wall slides open to reveal the next room of the mansion: the Portrait Chamber … otherwise known as the “Stretching Room.” Also, I should point out, to maximize guest capacity, there are two Stretching Rooms in use.

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In the Stretching Room, we find a private gallery of sorts. Standing proudly in this strange room are four paintings. We have a bearded gentleman holding a document, a beautiful young maiden holding a parasol, an old woman with a rose and a man in a bowler hat, and in the middle. Candle-wielding gargoyles stand between each painting. Once all are inside this room, that voice that welcomed us speaks again…

“Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host, your ghost host. Our tour begins here in this gallery. Here, where you see paintings of some of our guests as they appeared in their corruptible, mortal state. Kindly step all the way in please, and make room for everyone. There’s no turning back now.”

A macabre servant of Gracey Manor bids one final world of friendly warning… “Kindly drag your bodies away from the walls and into the dead center of the room…” Suddenly, the panel slides shut, sealing us into the rectangular space complete with an evil glare from the gargoyles. Without warning, the entire room is cast in darkness… As we discover, there’s a good reason to stay away from the walls... A hideous creak resounds through the room, thus prompting the portraits and all, to begin “stretching.” The portraits - cast in an eerie light - elongate, revealing the cruel fate of their subjects: The bearded gentleman stands pantsless atop a lit keg of dynamite, the parasol maiden is standing on a frayed tightrope over the jaws of an alligator, the old woman is sitting upon her husband’s gravestone (a bust of whom sits in the forefront with an axe in his head) and the man in the bowler hat is sitting on the shoulders of another man, who himself is sitting on the shoulders of a man waist-deep in quicksand. The creaking comes from the walls, which creak and groan as the room stretches. The Ghost Host’s voice seems to dart and float fluidly around the room with phantasmic echoes and unsettling ambiance. A dramatic underscore -- sampled from John Debney’s score from Phantom Manor -- adds more suspense to the following.



“Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding, almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it your imagination — hmm? And consider this dismaying observation: this chamber has no windows and no doors… which offers you this chilling challenge: to find a way out!”


And with a chilling laugh, he adds on…

“Of course, theres always my way…”

The lights ominously fade out. A crack of lightning illuminates the room! Thunder booms! The ceiling of the Stretching Room vanishes to reveal the mansion’s cupola, where the skeletal body of the Ghost Host sways from a noose tied to the rafters! A piercing scream rattles our ears! The room goes pitch-black again, this time accompanied by the dreadful clatter of falling bones! After the noise ceases, the lights just...come back on again. The ceiling is back to normal, as if the whole ordeal never happened.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you prematurely. The real chills come later. Now, as they say, ‘look alive,’ and we’ll continue our little tour. And let’s all stay together, please.”

At this, a panel in the wall of the Portrait Chamber slides open to reveal one long, dimly lit corridor. If one listens closely, they might hear the playful, childlike whispers and giggles of the gargoyles urging them to “stay together” and, ultimately, “get out!”

This three-dimensional audio system was added to the Portrait Chamber in 2007, as part of the “Re-Haunting” that took place that year. The same year saw the re-introduction of the Debney score, originally put into both Disneyland and the Magic Kingdom in 1993, as part of a refurbishment based on the success of Phantom Manor at Disneyland Paris -- a refurbishment that also brought along Vincent Price replacing Paul Frees as the Ghost Host. In 1995, the Debney score was dropped from the ride and the Frees narration was brought back, although the Price narration is still used on the occasion, particularly around Halloween. As for the Debney score, the 2007 refurbishment decided to blend the Baker score and the Debney score in certain places. As you can see, the Debney score was re-added to the Stretching Room, and it will be brought up again later on...


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It is here in this corridor that we board our main mode of transport. Here, an endless procession of “doom buggies” emerges from the inky blackness of an unknown corridor and appears to head towards another. Along the walls of this corridor are portraits that appear normal. Yet, if your eyes catch them in a certain way or at a certain angle, they will transform, revealing a grotesque image: the beautiful Medusa turns into a hideous Gorgon; a proud galleon devolves into a ghost ship; a gallant knight and his steed both become skeletons; a peaceful farm is ravished by a sandstorm; and a beautiful young woman reclining on a couch is transformed into a white tiger.

“And now, a carriage approaches to carry you into the boundless realm of the supernatural. Once on board, remain safely seated with your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside. And watch your children, please.”

We step onto a moving walkway that keeps us at pace with our doom buggy, thus ensuring a smooth boarding process.

“Do not pull down on the safety bar, please. I will lower it for you”, our Ghost Host says, as an invisible force does just that. “And heed this warning: the spirits will materialize only if you remain quietly seated at all times. Oh yes, and no flash pictures, please. We spirits are frightfully sensitive to bright lights.”

Safe and sound in our doom buggy, we head off down the way, towards the horrifying and mysterious world of the unknown…

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DisneyManOne

Well-Known Member
Original Poster
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Heading further into Gracey Manor from the loading area, our Doom Buggy travels beneath a staircase landing where a candelabra floats in inky blackness before we descend into the inner sanctums of the mansion. Oddly enough, an antique chandelier resembles that of a monstrous spider, complete with a “web.” Passing underneath the staircase, an eerie wind howls well into a dark corridor before us, a rather sinister collection of macabre art and rare antiquities; Grecian statues, exotic instruments, tribal masks, and cobwebs galore. The portraits, however, the “Sinister 11,” steal the show with their eerie, glowing eyes that follow our every move… The axe-wielding Ghost Host cut free of his noose; a lady with long golden hair, carrying a black cat and a pair of opera glasses with lens that resemble eyes; an eerie arsonist with a black flat-topped hat; the haggardly, once beautiful “December” in a formal portrait; a stern-looking man with a long white beard; the phantom of a Mariner lost at sea; Guy Fawkes with his favorite gunpowder; a fanged Dracula in his crypt; a stern and middle-aged couple; a grinning Jack the Ripper; the solemn Witch of Walpurgis and her trusted cat.

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After passing through this unsettling hallway, we find ourselves in the mansion’s Library, a chamber of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, crammed with dusty tomes. Invisible spirits pull books from the shelves, slide a rolling ladder back and forth, rock a chair and turn pages of a book on a side-table, while marble busts watch from alcoves among the shelves, seeming to turn and follow guests as they pass through. These busts are famous macabre authors: Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stoker, Victor Hugo, Mary Shelley, Robert Louis Stevenson, H.P. Lovecraft, Lord Byron, and Gaston Leroux. Our Ghost Host tells us…

“Our library is well-stocked with priceless first editions -- only ghost stories, of course -- and marble busts of the greatest ghost writers the literary world has ever known. They have all retired here, to the Haunted Mansion.”

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From the Library, we move on to the Music Room, where a dust-covered piano sits in the center of the room, playing by itself. Or so it seems… Bright moonlight streams through a picture window, casting a shadow of the pianist onto the floor. A red-eyed raven makes its perch from a music stand, seemingly in welcome of our arrival. The expansive window looks into a moonlit, fog-enshrouded, decayed jungle, providing an appropriately sinister backdrop for the scene As we silently glide past, the Ghost Host continues his spiel from the Library:

“Actually, we have 999 happy haunts here. But there’s room for 1,000. Any volunteers? If you should decide to join us, final arrangements may be made at the end of the tour.”

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Next stop: the Endless Staircase. As we travel deeper and deeper into the darkness, numerous staircases that seem to run in every direction fill our field of vision, some sideways and upside down; some ending in freestanding doors and others turning or leading off to points unknown. Occasionally, glowing green footprints manifest along these stairs, and any candelabras they pass flicker and sputter out before mysteriously relighting. At the top of the stairs, we enter a short, gloomy corridor in which glowing eyes stare from the shadow. Ominous whispering fills our airs. It is pitch black. The glowing eyes blink and study our Doom Buggy, slowly revealing themselves to be coming from behind the iconic, purple-and-black wallpaper as the doom buggies pass into the Endless Hallway.

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“We find it delightfully unlivable here in this ghostly retreat. Every room has wall-to-wall creeps, and hot and cold running chills. Shhh, listen!”

A bloodcurdling scream shatters a chill in the air. Our Buggy rotates slightly to point us down what appears to be an endless hallway. Down this corridor to infinity, mysterious orbs materialize gracefully in midair, spirits wishing to return to our mortal world. Their faint moans and cries for help send a chill down our spine. Somewhere beyond, chains rattle and a phantom cackles. Flanking the sight on the right-hand side is a slightly-moving suit of armor; and on the left-hand side is an armchair that seemingly has a “face.” Both these things keep their eyes on us, the houseguests. Suddenly, we feel an actual chill and footsteps coming from the hall, getting closer and closer… (represented by a hidden air-conditioning unit and speakers in the floor to accomplish the effect.)

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“All our ghosts have been dying to meet you! This one can hardly contain himself!”

Indeed, here in the Conservatory, an undead occupant is is trying to get out. “Let me outta here! Let me outta here!” he desperately cries. His skeletal hands attempt to push the lid open, which, based on the nails sticking through the wood, was meant to stay sealed. A raven perches on top of a stand with a withered funeral wreath. The Conservatory is practically choked with decaying and overgrown plants and vegetation. In the large windows to the rear of the room, we see a moonlit, fog-enshrouded forest, an appropriately sinister backdrop for such a macabre scene.

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“Unfortunately, they all seem to have trouble getting through…”


Escaping from this uncertain doom, we are carried backward down the ominous Corridor of Doors, which is exactly what the name implies: a series of doors on either side of the car. The Debney score, haunting and choral, creeps back in. Doorknobs and handles twist and turn every which way, and knockers in the shape of spiked maces bang against their doors - by themselves. Unseen presences pound unmercifully on doors from the other side. Otherworldly creatures snarl, growl, howl, shriek, laugh, moan, and groan, dying for escape - loudly. One door appears to breathe, bulging out as a powerful force acts upon it from within the room. Another door even has the face and hands of a tortured soul pressing against the wood, bulging out in a perfect outline. Some of the entities are not confined to their rooms: countless eyes glare at us from the corridor’s sinister wallpaper… The music has silenced. Dreary, post-mortem “family photos” line the walls, which, in actuality are black-and-white photos of many of the “pop-up” ghosts found later in the Mansion. A monstrous arm bursts through one final door in a relentless attempt to break it open. A knitted sampler reads “TOMB SWEET TOMB.” Perhaps most frightening of all, we catch the visage of a sorrowful female spirit, wildly pounding from behind the glass of an ornate mirror, begging for escape.

The Corridor of Doors is one of the darker and scarier regions of the Haunted Mansion, and clearly holds the influence of Claude Coats. His design of the original corridor and many of its effects, especially the “family photos” door, were inspired by Robert Wise’s 1963 thriller The Haunting. The eyes and faces in the wallpaper also reflect The Haunting’s influence, reinforcing the sense that the Mansion itself is watching you… This Corridor of Doors has a very unique feature, which has been exclusive to the Magic Kingdom Mansion ever since it opened in 1971: each chandelier casts an eerie red light, almost as if the line between reality and imagination has been blurred. The sinister lighting and increase in three-dimensional sound stirs in one a sense of danger, as if the house itself is possessed, ready to attack at any moment…

Having escaped one final door that seems to be snarling like a rabid animal, we creep past an ornate grandfather clock that is perpetually struck on thirteen. The hour and minute hands spin madly around the face as the shadow of a vampiric claw scrapes over the clock. If one peers closely into the darkness, one might discover the top half of the cabinet to be the head of a demon; the clock’s face sitting inside its gaping maw, and the swinging pendulum the demon’s forked tongue…


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“Perhaps Madame Leota can establish contact. She has a remarkable head for materializing the disembodied.”


With the thirteen chimes of the grandfather clock still ringing in the air, and the Baker score creeping back in, we enter the dark Séance Circle, an eerie sanctum in which an age-old ritual is taking place. A mist-filled crystal ball floats high above a table littered with candles and tarot cards. The red-eyed raven sits perched atop a chair directly behind the table. An ancient tome, Necronomicon: Book of the Dead, rests on a nearby bookstand, opened to pages 1312 and 1313, and a spell that summons those unfortunate spirits trapped in limbo. A phosphorescent orb floats mysteriously along the wall, located directly behind the Doom Buggies as they first enter the room. The orb illuminates a number of horrific faces - actually a large replica of the above piece of Claude Coats concept art - almost, but never quite completely, into view.

As we continue our slow circle around the table, we finally meet our medium, the disembodied head and spirit of Madame Leota, trapped in the levitating crystal ball. She summons the Mansion’s restless spirits and encourages their arrival by reciting an ancient incantation:


“Serpents and spiders, tail of a rat, call in the spirits, wherever they’re at!
Rap on a table, it’s time to respond. Send us a message from somewhere beyond!
Goblins and ghoulies from last Halloween, awaken the spirits with your tambourines!
Creepies and crawlies, toads in a pond, let there be music from regions beyond!

Witches and wizards, wherever you dwell, give us a hint, by ringing a bell!”

As Leota chants, several instruments and other supernatural objects float through the darkness making noises to correspond with Madame Leota’s spells, while a ghostly light seems to draw lines through the air on the far side of the room, perhaps even making the shape of a face.

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“The happy haunts have received your sympathetic vibrations and are beginning to materialize for a swinging wake. They’ll be expecting me. I’ll see you all a little later…”


We leave the Séance Circle and travel onto an elegant balcony overlooking a spectacular, panoramic view of the aptly-named Grand Hall. A green fire ignites itself in a lavish fireplace and a not-so-empty rocking chair beside it begins to rock. A group of otherworldly revelers have gathered at a long banquet table to celebrate a mysterious birthday party. The guests slowly fade in and out of sight, seemingly in time with the ghost of honor’s repeated attempts to extinguish the candles on her “death-day” cake. Other swinging specters enjoy spirits of a different kind while sitting atop an ornate chandelier high above the room. Hooded wraiths fly in and out of the room through the upper windows as lightning flashes behind them. And a steady stream of merry specters pours in from a hearse crashed just outside the ballroom, eager to join in the jamboree.

At the opposite end of the hall, ghostly couples waltz the night away as an evil organist plays a madcap, frantic arrangement of “Grim Grinning Ghosts” on an enormous pipe organ. With each note, transparent skulls, not musical notes, fly out of the pipes and vanish like wisps of smoke. A charming “ghostess” stands halfway up the staircase with a candle, greeting guests disembarking from the hearse crashed outside - with her decapitated head. On a wall above the dance floor hang the large portraits of two duelists wielding pistols. Their spirits emerge from the canvas, turning and shooting at each other in an eternal attempt to settle their score long after death. It is truly a party to die for.

Having traversed the length of the lavish Grand Hall, looking down onto the ballroom from the upper-floor, our Doom Buggy creeps past a small end table and coat rack against the wall, as well as one final sinister portrait in the shadow; no transformations, no moving eyes, just horror - a young aristocratic couple locked in an embrace - the woman has stabbed her beloved in the heart with a kitchen knife, her lips curved into a smile, his eyes widened in shock. Turning the corner, our Doom Buggy enters the heart of any good haunted house: the Attic.


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DisneyManOne

Well-Known Member
Original Poster
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The music and murmur of the Grand Hall behind us, and the eerie refrain of Debney’s music box score filling the air, we enter the Mansion’s dusty attic, which is designed like you would design an attic in your home; strewn about with old, discarded junk – cobwebbed bric-a-brac and long-stored furniture and artifacts from a former lifetime. Cool blue light and the sound of a beating heart permeate the space, and the ominous atmosphere is underscored by various shrieks and moans. The pulsating heartbeat grows louder as our Doom Buggy moves further into the dark collection of discarded furniture, gilded antiques, porcelain toys and dolls, kitchenware, trunks and curios, and, among other things, a deliciously disturbed ventriloquist dummy. A grandfather clock strikes thirteen. A fluttery motion catches our attention - bats flit about, flying ‘round and ‘round the dark shadows above.

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Throughout the Attic, ghostly voices seem to murmur “I do…”, seeming to mock a beautiful young bride, looking forlorn and taunted. She is a beautiful young thing, with a fair face and light blue hair. Her face serves as a beacon in the dark, punctuated with eyes that glow as embers, and with each heartbeat, her heart glows the color of blood. She holds a candlestick in one hand and a bouquet in the other. Her heart can be seen beating, eternally for her lost love. She shimmers in the light, levitating as her wispy bridal gown and veil flutter in the ethereal breeze. Occasionally, the ghost of her love appears before her, comforting her sorrow with a kiss on the cheek. Now that they are in the afterlife, they can remain together.

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Another ghostly manifestation appears just outside the Attic on a balcony overlooking the Mansion’s Graveyard: a cloaked figure with an evil, grinning face. He leans on a cane with his right hand and holds a hatbox aloft in his left. With a deep, dissolute chortle, the Hatbox Ghost’s deathly pate disappears from his body, reappears in the hatbox, and then returns to his body, leaving the hatbox empty - a head-scratching effect that takes place every few seconds.

The Hatbox Ghost stands on an overgrown porch with a mossy pergola, with wrought-iron railing and uncontrolled plants nearby. Double doors behind him hang partially open, revealing the fanged and red-eyed bats inside… There are hat boxes everywhere, some even stacked on a hand truck. And yet, creepy as he may be, he doesn’t seem like the malicious sort…

Alas, we have no time to find out his allegiances, because we find ourselves being “flung out” of the house and crashing down through a grove of terrorizing trees with gaping maws and gnarled branches reaching out like claws, all under the watchful, glowing red eyes of the pesky raven perched among the branches. The shapes of rising spirits can be seen everywhere. Welcome to the mansion’s Graveyard. Here, among the rotting foliage and unearthly sounds, the “swinging wake” is really kicking into gear!


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Upon reaching the ground, Silas Crump, the graveyard caretaker, can be seen with his faithful dog, Bones, the two of them utterly petrified by the sight before them. Leaving them alone, we pass through the creaky gates of the Graveyard. This is a crazy place. We will soon encounter a macabre number of ghosts rising from their graves in a tour de force of Marc Davis character designs and sight gags, with spirits that cross all boundaries of time and space. All are singing and playing along with their hosts for the evening’s festivities, a group of warbling marble busts. Madame Leota’s incantations have worked like a charm, and all of the Mansion’s 999 happy haunts have “come out to socialize” at last!

The Audio-Animatronics figures in the Graveyard are built translucent and skeletal, without the layer of “skin” common to Disney’s mortal characters, further accented by fluorescent colored paint, props and clothing, all of which glow brightly under the scene’s impressive black light. In addition to these Audio-Animatronics apparitions, a number of frightening “pop-up ghosts” are strategically hidden behind scattered tombstones, effectively screaming at the end of each chorus. The Imagineers once again used forced perspective to make the scene appear much larger than it actually is - props and set pieces get smaller the farther away they are placed.


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First, we encounter a band of medieval minstrels: a drummer beating a gravestone with bones, a flutist upright in his coffin, a kilt-toting bagpipe player, a hook-nosed harpist, and a brassy horn player standing comfortable in his long pajamas. They all play “Grim Grinning Ghosts” in upbeat, jazz style (The music itself is a seamless, simultaneous blend of the Baker original and the Debney adaptation, which uses a fuller jazz style). A gathering of scrawny cats and owls join the revelry and add their own harmonies, while a translucent hellhound howls off in the distance. Nearby, an English King and Queen balance on a tombstone-teeter-totter. As designed, only the ghost in the top position of the teeter-totter is visible - the ghost in the bottom position disappears. It’s a visual pun of “see-saw”; as they play, we “see” one ghost right after we “saw” the other. A regal duchess sips tea from a chair swing in the background.

A trio of American colonial “witch hunters” queue for a mug of piping hot stew - two transparent witches (ghost witches, of course) are stirring a black cauldron filled with bubbling, glowing, green elixir. The witches cackle and hum in time with the music. In the background, fluorescent decaying corpses begin to reanimate and “dance” along to the music. Added in the 1993 refurbishment, the dancing corpses were inspired by the finale of Phantom Manor in Paris, and reference the 1929 Silly Symphony The Skeleton Dance. The jerky-motioned, half-decayed skeletons glow in an ethereal blue-color, and are the most “realistic bones” in the Mansion. The most prominent of the bunch is a jaw-unhinged instrumentalist beating a collection of hollowed skulls in lieu of a xylophone. Further back, four skeletons perform a “conga line” on a hidden turntable, while one body attempts to help some other body rise from the earth. Another corpse hangs upside-down from a tree, swaying his torso in time with the musical counts.


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Of course, the minstrels would be most unimpressive without the frightful vocals of “The Phantom Five," a quintet of Singing Busts led by Uncle Theodore, played by Thurl Ravenscroft. The rest of the Phantom Five is composed of (left to right) Rollo Rumkin (Verne Rowe), Uncle Theodore, Cousin Algernon (Chuck Schroeder), Ned Nub (Jay Meyer), and Phineas P. Pock (Bob Ebright). The harmonic busts sing “Grim Grinning Ghosts” in a macabre barbershop arrangement.

“When the crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake,
Spooks come out for a swinging wake.
Happy haunts materialize
and begin to vocalize.
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!

Now, don’t close your eyes and don’t try to hide,
For a silly spook may sit by your side.
Shrouded in a daft disguise,
they pretend to terrorize.
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!

As the moon climbs high o’er the dead oak tree,
Spooks arrive for the midnight spree.
Creepy creeps with eerie eyes
start to shriek and harmonize.
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!


When you hear the knell of a requiem bell,
Weird glows gleam where spirits dwell.
Restless bones etherealize,
rise as spooks of every size!”

Victorian aristocrats enjoy a chorus with a game of chess and a spot of tea alongside a hearse crashed in the mud - its deceased occupant now upright and “la-la-ing” along. In the distance, a number of cloaked wraiths ride bicycles around a gnarled tree. A self-levitating teapot trickles tea into the glass of a waiting arm protruding from a stone coffin. An Egyptian mummy sits upright in his golden sarcophagi, desperately trying to entertain a ghost-dog and a befuddled old man with an ear-horn.

A flapper of the Roaring ‘20s enjoys a spot of tea with the chained ghost of a former convict. In the open coffin below, a boney arm pours tea into the flapper’s removed shoe. A former pirate captain (Bluebeard?!) raises a pint o’ grog in toast of the swinging wake, joined by an incredibly short Viking perched atop a small tombstone. A presumably drowned flight attendant (as evident by the life-jacket) sings solo to the sight of a ghostly big-game hunter and a phantom tiger - the hunter’s pants grasped in the tiger’s maw. A headless knight, executioner and tiny prisoner sing “backup” for a pair of opera singers dressed as Vikings, the duo madly warbling in time with the music. It truly isn’t over until the fat lady sings… Nearby, the occupant of a brick tomb attempts to seal himself within via concrete.

The raven puts in one last appearance, glaring at us as we enter a Crypt. Not only that, we are finally reunited with our Ghost Host!


“Ahh, there you are! And just in time - there’s a little matter I forgot to mention: beware of hitchhiking ghosts! They have selected you to fill our quota, and they will haunt you until you return.”

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Inside the Crypt, we encounter the Mansion’s most popular characters: the Hitchhiking Ghosts. From left to right, Phineas is the large ghost in a top hat carrying a carpetbag; Ezra is the tall, bony ghost tipping his hat; and Gus is the short convict with a bushy beard and the ball and chain. Our Doom Buggy continues deeper into the Mausoleum, passing a series of large, ornate mirrors. We soon learn that one of the three ghosts has hitched a ride with us, and is seated right there! Of course, there is no Hitchhiking Ghost in the mirror - simply because we are not looking into a mirror. The illusion is similar to that of the ghosts in the Grand Hall - with the necessary twist, of course.

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We turn around to find ourselves passing through another part of the Crypt, we come across the mansion’s “Ghostess”, Little Leota, who invites us to return. “Hurry back... Hurry back... Be sure to bring your death certificate... if you decide to join us. Make final arrangements now! We’ve been dying to have you…”




At last, we come across an exit to the Crypt, and to the Haunted Mansion as a whole. Our Ghost Host gives us one final farewell: “Now I will raise the safety bar, and a ghost will follow you home!” And with the eerie cackle of the Ghost Host ever fading away, we head out through a long, candle-lit hallway, towards the relative safety of Liberty Square. As we pass through this hallway, we hear the singing busts sing a haunting, somber reprise of “Grim Grinning Ghosts.”

“If you would like to join our jamboree,
there’s a simple rule thats compulsory.
Mortals pay a token fee;
rest in peace, the haunting’s free.
So hurry back, we would like your company…”


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Not only that, a final macabre detail comes with what lies on the other side of the manor forecourt. If the Grounds takes up the left-hand side, the right-hand side consists of the Mausoleum & Pet Cemetery. The epitaphs of the Mausoleum walls are almost exclusively humorous. In “Spiritual Remorse,” the interred prove that no one retired to the Haunted Mansion seems to have taken death too seriously…

Hal Lusinashun

Bea Witch

Hap A. Rition

Manny Festation

Metta Fisiks

Claire Voince

Wee G. Bord

I. Emma Spook

Paul Tergsyt

Nearby this crypt is a monument honoring Bluebeard and his wives.

1440

Here Lyeth his Loving Wives

Penelope Died 1434

Abigail 1435

Anastasia 1436

Prudence 1437

Phoebe 1438

Eugenia 1439

Lucretia ????

Seven Winsome Wives

Some Fat, Some Thin.

Six of Them were Faithful

But the Seventh Did Him In.


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The Pet Cemetery honors the fallen animal friends of the Gracey family. Stone statues mark the mortal forms of these creatures, and much like the Grounds, humorous epitaphs are in store.

  • Kai the Koi Fish, whose epitaph reads, “He has gone to a Betta place.”
  • Penny the elephant. “Where pachyderms reside with worms within a tomb most elegant, you’ll find long gone our mastodon, Beloved Penny, the elephant.” Above the tomb is the statue of a mouse which presumably scared Penny to death due to the myth that elephants are terrified of mice.
  • Big Jake the dog. “Here lies my good dog Jake. Chasing a toad down a well was his one mistake.”
  • Whiskers the cat. “In memoriam Whiskers. After losing eight lives you still had no fear, you caught a snake in your ninth and that’s why you’re here.” Her tombstone even comes with dates marking all nine of her deaths! “1855 -- Bad catnip. 1856 -- A shoe at two. 1857 -- Sour milk. 1858 -- Hairball. 1859 -- One bad year. 1859 -- Same year. 1860 -- Local dog. 1861 -- Fell off limb. 1862 -- Snake encounter.”
  • Old Flybait the frog. “You didn’t drink, you didn’t smoke, I just can’t tell what made you croak.”
  • Waddle, the duck. “Little Waddle saw the truck, but little Waddle didn’t duck.”
  • Stripey the skunk. “In loving memory of our pet Stripey. You may be departed but your scent will linger on.”
  • Fifi the poodle. “So prim and proper and never lazy, all you do now is push up daisies.”
  • Rosie the pig. “She was a poor little pig but she bought the farm.”
  • An unnamed cat with no epitaph which is surrounded by the small tombs of five birds.
  • An unnamed pet rat. “In memory of my Rat whom I loved, now he resides in realms above.”
  • Long Legged Jeb the spider. “Got tangled up in his very own web.
  • Eric, the snake. “Here lies my snake whose fatal mistake was frightening the gardener who carried a rake.”
  • An unnamed rabbit.
  • An unnamed squirrel whose tomb resides underneath the shade of a tree.
  • Freddie the bat. The epitaph is written upside down and says “We’ll miss you.”
  • Rover the dog. “Every dog has his day...too bad today was your last.
  • Jed the cockatoo.
  • An unnamed monkey
Anxious to leave the dark mysteries and prankish spirits of the Haunted Mansion behind, we briskly depart for the “World of the Living” and rejoin the bustle and life of the Magic Kingdom… but not before noticing the silhouette of our Ghost Host, hatchet in hand, glaring at us one final time from an upper-floor window…

~ ~ ~

And thus concludes our tour of the Haunted Mansion! What did you all think? Wasn't that just spooky; perfect for Halloween? Having completed this ride-through, I must give a huge shout-out to @MANEATINGWREATH, whose elaborate and excellent version of The Haunted Mansion for Mirror Disneyland served as my biggest inspiration for this MWDW Haunted Mansion, so credit to him on that count! Thank you very much!

Now, I don't know when my next ride-through will be, nor do I know when I will post it, but if ever something strikes my fancy, you can expect to see me come back here to share it with you all. Until then, enjoy the rest of your Halloween and I will see you all soon!
 
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DisneyFan32

Well-Known Member
In the Parks
Yes

Now, I don't know when my next ride-through will be, nor do I know when I will post it, but if ever something strikes my fancy, you can expect to see me come back here to share it with you all. Until then, enjoy the rest of your Halloween and I will see you all soon!
Roger Rabbit's Runaway Trolley ride-through next please?
 

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