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Welcome to Disney's Animal Kingdom, 1998. Just a decade ago, the Disney-MGM Studios opened as Walt Disney World's third park, setting a new standard and kicking off a series of "studio" themed parks around the globe. Now, Disney's reinvented themselves again with a theme park that couldn't be any different from their Studios. Disney's Animal Kingdom is the anti-studio park, dispensing entirely with "behind the scenes" and instead transporting guests around the world.

Passing through the overgrown Oasis entry, guests are deposited into Safari Village (which would quickly be renamed Discovery Island when hoardes of guests arrived there looking for the park's starring Kilimanjaro Safaris attraction) from which radiate bridges over the Discovery River. They lead to Africa, Asia, and Camp Minnie-Mickey. But of particular interest today is the fourth crossing, leading to roadside America...

Dinoland, U.S.A.

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We've already touched on the basics – this is Diggs County, along Highway 498 somewhere in America's heartland. Before we go any farther, it's important to touch on just how spectacular Dinoland was designed to be. While often derided by Disney Parks fans for its departure from Animal Kingdom's otherwise-global design, Dinoland is actually one of the most layered and story-centered areas at any of Disney World's parks. 

Fossils were first discovered here in 1947, and that's when a brigade of college professors and paleontologists moved in, overtaking the rustic fishing lodge and turning it into a dorm / cafeteria. As word spread of their fossilized finds, the new, collegiate residents of Diggs County began to turn the town into a tourist destination, cleverly and excitedly opening their mess hall to the public (as "Restaurantosaurus") and marketing their digsite as a roadside attraction. 

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Their digsite became the Boneyard, a veritable (and in real life, literal) playground to explore and the name "Dinoland" caught on, attracting more and more tourism each year. Consequently, the paleontologists and grad students who'd set up base camp at this active dig coalesced and established the Dino Institute, dedicated to "Exploration, Excavation, and Exultation."

Initially housed in the old fishing lodge, everything changed when Dr. Helen Marsh was brought on as the Institute's leader. A visionary director, within days of taking over, Dr. Marsh broke ground a new, modern Dino Institute facility right in Diggs County... and acquired a mysterious technology company called Chrono-Teck Inc... Wonder why? Step inside...

The Dino Institute

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Our tour of the Dino Institute begins in the courtyard in front of the museum where a sculpture of a styracosaurus is frozen in the middle of an infinity pool. It's a stately entrance to the institution, but it's got nothing on what awaits within.

In fact, the queue for Countdown to Extinction would, anywhere else, stand-in for a full-fledged dinosaur gallery, offering mosaics, murals, and dioramas depicting life during the Cretaceous period, before the exinction-enducing asteroid that collided with Earth and killed over half of all species for good. But the Institute's greatest treasure awaits within a great domed concourse.

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Real paleontologists working here in Diggs County have uncovered the most complete skeleton ever discovered of an ancient predator called carnotaurus. This nimble, pug-faced meat-eater with the horns of a bull must have lived here in Diggs County 65 million years ago when the world looked quite a bit different. As Bill Nye the Science Guy narrates the murals that depict the last moments of the Cretaceous around the concourse, guests look up in awe at the magnificent creature... How spectacular it is to know that it stood here where we stand... how unbelievable it must've been to see it in person...

Luckily, we might get our chance.

This is the old wing of the museum, and the true marvel of the Dino Institute lies further on. As we exit the old, static galleries, we're invited into a briefing room for a communique with Dr. Marsh herself, played by Phylicia Rashad (well-known for her portrayal of Clair Huxtable on The Cosby Show). 

"I hope you enjoyed those quaint exhibits in the old wing. That's how dinosaurs have been presented to the public since the study of fossils began over 150 years ago. Today, that bare bones approach is about to be extinct. In a perfect blending of science and technology, the Dino Institute has created..." she gestures to the model behind her. "...The Time Rover – an amazing vehicle that will literally transport you to the age of the dinosaurs! How? That's proprietary... But in a moment, you'll be going live to our control center for a comprehensive safety briefing, then it's on the tour that will convince you forever that the future is truly in the past!"

As the Dino Institute's theme crescendos, the feed is interrupted by our safety briefing by way of Dr. Seeker (that's Dr. Grant Seeker for all you academics and non-profit workers) who's going to see Dr. Marsh's tranquil pre-historic sightseeing trip and raise it a bit. "You can help me make history today with the Time Rover. If I can bring you back from the Cretaceous period, it stands to reason that I can bring a live dinosaur back with you!" And wouldn't you know it, our tagged Iguanodon is waiting right at the end of the Cretaceous period... Right before that asteroid hits... Seeker unlocks our Time Rover's coordinates.

"Here's the drill: you follow the homing signal to the Iguanodon, then I'll enlarge the transport field and boom, you're back with one additional passenger, extra large. And don't worry about that asteroid – you'll be out of there before it even breaks the atmosphere! Trust me! What could go wrong?!"

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As the briefing room doors open, we're ushered into a new part of the building... an underground laboratory quite a bit more sophisticated than the old wing, filled with pulsing wires and ducts. Metallic stairs lead down into a concourse where CTX Time Rovers await, ready to be transported into the past. Every minute or so, a massive power surge signals a great redirect of electricity pulled toward our destination: the Time Tunnel.

Countdown to Extinction

The Time Rover is a lumbering 12-passenger off-roading vehicle designed to tackle the rough terrain of the Cretaceous. And as it hums to life at the loading dock, it seems to shuffle and vibrate with power, heading straight ahead into the security scanning zone around the corner. The Rover pauses as a green security beam sweeps over the vehicle. "Hey guys, it's me – Dr. Seeker! We've got a date with a dino..."

A claxon alarm begins to blare and a spinning red light signals that our destination is unapproved. But it's too late. "Let's move it!" Silver doors swing open into the Time Tunnel. "See you on the other side!" The pathway angles upward into the metallic corridor, where flashing strobes illuminate coiled panels, pulsing with red energy. Suddenly, the Time Rover isn't a rumbling vehicle anymore... it's lifting off the ground. As a soft layer of fog overtakes the Time Tunnel's floor, the Rover begins to float. As the power builds and the tunnel walls spark, a green laser curtain appears ahead and expands, creating a portal. On the other side of the portal, a dense forest appears...

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With a resounding SNAP, a blinding flash of pure white light overtakes the vehicle, and with a crash, it falls to the ground. Only now, it's on the rocky terrain of 65 million years ago. "Perfect landing! Wow, the computer is tracking a lot of dinosaurs around you!" A tiny, falling, flaming fragment strikes the ground, creating a fiery glow that illuminates a frilled, four-legged dinosaur ahead. 'Styracosaurus,' the computer chirps. 'Warning: meteor shower in range.'

"Just little ones, don't worry!"

Chirp chirp. 'Alioramus.' Ahead, a dinosaur had its head down, rustling in a bush. When it raises its head, it's to swallow a smaller dinosaur.

Chirp chirp. 'Hadrosaur.' A mother parasaur and her babies look to the sky as flaming shards rain down through the dense jungle canopy. 'Raptor.' It's ahead on the left, snarling and hissing, his eyes fixated on the nearby baby parasaurs. A trail of light signals that a meteor has struck the Rover, which jolts and tips, regaining traction and swerving forward.

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"What was that!?" 

Chirp chirp. 'Meteor hit. Signal malfunction.' The Rover starts and stops, throwing riders forward and back as it recalibrates before shuffling ahead into the darkness. Autopilot misfires as the Rover overshoots the path and tears through the jungle for a few feet before slamming to a halt. "I've got you back!"

Chirp chirp. 'Carnotaurus.' 

In the pitch black darkness, another falling shard hits the ground, illuminating the creature looming over us – a massive, twenty-foot tall carnotaur, its twisted horns and wild eyes glowing as a steaming vent nearby illuminates its lumpy orange skin. It roars and jolts forward as lightning strikes in the distant skies around us. The creature lurches forward, appearing to ram the Rover, which slams sideways. "Hold on!" Seeker cries, "I'm getting you out of there!" 

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The vehicle rights itself and races off around the corner through the darkness, until it lurches over an unexpected obstacle: the tail of a saltasaurus. Chirp chirp. 'Sauropod.' The Rover glides forward to the face of the 40-foot-long dinosaur (curiously, emerging from a starfield so as not to have to represent its whole body?). "Don't worry, she's a vegetarian," Seeker offers as the saltosaurus groans its breath on us. (This moment, by the way, is the track-layout equivalent of Indy's suspension bridge.)

'Asteroid impact in... 90 seconds.' 

"Computer, you worry too much!"

As asteroids begin to break and supercharge the atmosphere, the phosphorescent glow illuminates a nest of baby pteradactyls in a clearing ahead. The Time Rover lurches around the nest and forward until the mother cearadactylus returns, swooping down at the vehicle by way of a swinging animatronic. To avoid her, the Rover defaults to the right, where it staggers and twists sideways, sliding down a hillside. 

'Asteroid impact in 60 seconds.'

The sliding Rover disturbs a nest of tiny, chicken-sized dinosaurs – chirp. 'Compsognathus', which leap over the vehicle. (It's a clever effect, with each dinosaur on an articulating arm that swings over the vehicle, visible only as it passes under a focused glowing light, creating the effective illusion of motion.) The Rover gains traction and lurches ahead, but slams down into a mud pit. It's just the opportunity the carnotaur needed.

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It's waiting for us ahead, its skin almost bioluminscent in the charged atmosphere. It eyes us. "Four wheel drive! Go!" The Rover accelerates forward and, with a snarl, the carnotour takes off in a full on sprint, launching ahead to intercept our path. It's one of the most staggering moments in a Disney dark ride, as it swings its head wildly while literally running after us. Though the light fades, we hear the carnotaur growing closer and closer, its snarling breath and pounding footsteps behind us.

Meteors begin to crash to the Earth, with the Rover sliding left and right to avoid them and the charging beast. We can hear as it slams into trees trying to catch us.

Chirp. 'Power level critical.' The burst of energy and four-wheel drive has drained the Time Rover, which rumbles, stalls, and settles in the darkness. Out of the blackness, the carnotaur returns. This is it. The massive beast rears back and releases a blood-curdling, horrific, shrieking scream. (This moment – when the attraction's on-ride photo is taken – is legitimately startling enough to capture true terror, as the beast's deafening roar is truly alarming.)

As a trembling earthquake begins to rumble the Rover, the distracted carnotaur looks momentarily frightened himself. The Rover springs back to life and jumps forward, leaving the dinosaur in the dust (and presumably, where he'll be buried and, later, preserved in the Dino Institute's lobby). The flaming rocks are now striking all around us, shattering trees and illuminating the sky above the canopy in streaks. As the trees crack and fall just over the ride's path, a massive trunk ahead blocks the only way forward.

But wait... a dinosaur ahead seems to be lifting up the tree to allow the Time Rover to pass beneath. There's no time left. 'Iguanodon.'

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"That's our dino! We've got him!" Seeker calls excitedly, as if we're not seconds from death. The Rover's computer launches a laser net that's projected onto the herbivore, apparently bringing him into the Rover's transport field. Chirp chirp. 'Asteroid impact in 3... 2...'

"Now you can worry!" Seeker cries. A massive, flaming orange light streams through the treetops overhead, and as the computer's alarm beeps, the hurtling meteor flashes before our eyes, spinning wildly as it breaks through the treetops heading right toward us. But the Rover races forward and dips down a drop through the darkness. An endless starfield appears around the vehicle as it jumps through a shimmering green laser curtain. Strobes fire randomly, and with a metallic, resounding BOOM, the warm coiled lights of the Time Tunnel return, the vehicle slamming back onto solid ground.

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"Good work, team! You made it back! And so did our dino." The Time Rover glides around the corner and back into the familiar industrial hallways of the Dino Institute's new wing. Ahead, the Rover aligns with a large mirror (originally installed for a never-implemented Pepper's Ghost illusion that would've shown the iguanodon behind the Rover), as a small CCTV screen reveals the dinosaur wreaking playful havok on the Institute. 

'Time travel complete.'

Time travel commencing...

Countdown to Extinction opened at Disney's Animal Kingdom with the park on April 22, 1998. Two years later, it closed forever... Well, kinda. On the last page, we'll dissect what's happened to Animal Kingdom's chaotic dark ride and what's expected next... The story finishes up on the next page.