Courtesy of Six Flags Over Texas
Audio By Carbonatix
For a coaster named after a storm, Tormenta Rampaging Run sure took its sweet time rolling in.
It was supposed to arrive in spring. Then Six Flags Over Texas circled June 26 on the calendar in bold. Then that date got yanked and replaced with July 8, with members and VIPs getting early peeks at it in the days between. The internet, being the internet, filled the silence with theories — cracks in the track, structural gremlins, all manner of doom. The park’s official word was less dramatic: “the commissioning and testing process” was simply taking longer than expected. When we asked park president Pete Carmichael directly about the delay, he politely nodded us back toward that statement and moved on. Whatever the true story, the kinks appear ironed out and the storm has landed.
You feel the rollercoaster before you reach it. Walk into the park and drift left, the way generations of thrill-seekers have always drifted toward Spain, and the whole area has been polished into something new: Rancho de la Tormenta, a small Spanish village that honors its legendary hero and protector, Tormenta the Bold. A bull statue greets you at the front, daring you forward. There are dancers, matadors and bull runners weaving through the crowd. The historic fountains have been restored, misting zones and fresh shade offer mercy from the Texas sun, and the whole place comes alive with a culture it never quite had before. It truly feels like a reimagining rather than a just new ride dropped into an old corner of the park.
Getting to the coaster itself feels a touch like arriving at Disney World’s Tron. There’s a locker system where you stash your belongings, climb the stairs to the platform, ride, then collect everything on the other side. Read the rules first, because there’s no room on your person for stray hats or loose treasures. This beast does not negotiate with pockets.
And what a beast it is. Tormenta breaks six world records, and rattling them off in a list would do it a disservice, so here’s the gist: it’s the tallest dive coaster on the planet at 309 feet, hitting 87 miles per hour across 4,199 feet of track, with a 95-degree beyond-vertical drop, the tallest vertical loop at 179 feet, and the tallest Immelmann inversion at 218 feet. Numbers on paper.
Then you’re strapped in, and the numbers become a feeling. If you’d like to see that feeling register on our writers’ faces in real time, well, there’s a video below for that.
The climb is where the dread — the good kind — sets in. You hear the click-clacking of the lift, each tick pulling you higher, and the skyline unfurls beneath you. Arlington, then Dallas, then a horizon so wide you start bargaining with it. Then you crest, and Tormenta does its cruelest, most delicious trick: it hovers. You dangle at the edge for a held breath, the world tipping forward, before it lets go. The 87-mph plunge is straight down and shockingly smooth, with four inversions folding into one another so cleanly you don’t black out the way you might on certain neighboring coasters in the park — cough, Titan, cough. A mid-ride pause resets the tension before the next drop, which comes close enough to another section of track to tease decapitation without ever delivering, thankfully. The whole affair lasts about two and a half minutes and feels like a blink.
“This coaster is a transformational type of experience, a once-in-a-generation roller coaster,” Carmichael told us. On the ribbon-cutting stage, he doubled down: “This attraction is more than just a new ride. It is a transformational experience for our guests that will thrill riders from all over the world.” His pro tip for the ideal seat? “My preference is front row on the side, because there is no track below you and there’s nothing above you. You’re floating in the air.”
The ceremony had its levity, too. Arlington Mayor Jim Ross, self-described scaredy cat, used his podium time to grant fellow chickens a mayoral reprieve — offering to hold every purse and stuffed animal so nobody could peer-pressure him onto the thing.
Courtesy of Six Flags Over Texas
The area’s new food, meanwhile, leans into the culture. Executive Chef Nicolo Vitale framed his approach simply: “It’s always the same question — how can we push the envelope? How can we do better?” His recommendation: “We’re doing our from-scratch barbacoa street tacos… the chicken torta slider… I would urge people to try everything.” He’s right. That chicken sandwich, flavorful and dressed with a guacamole spread, is a proper quick bite, and the Spanish-themed desserts round it out nicely.
Not everything ran flawlessly. When Six Flags opened to the public at 11 a.m. Wednesday, many regular ticket holders appeared to think they’d be getting a sneak preview of Tormenta on the spot. Instead, because the media and VIP preview window was still running until noon, guests who clustered at the gate were told they wouldn’t be allowed into the area until 3 p.m. The result was a small crowd of irritated parkgoers — at one point close to 100 people — grumbling about the park’s lack of clear communication. We tried to get a few comments from the frustrated would-be riders, but one guest proposed an arrangement that we declined: “I’ll say whatever you want me to say if you just give me your media badge to get in right now.” Not how that works, obviously.
Still, this feels like a genuine new chapter for Six Flags. The park has had its ups and downs, but Tormenta swings for the fences. When you mess with the bull, after all, you get the horns.
Tormenta Rampaging Run is officially open to the public, with daily tickets starting at $39.
