Something’s missing at CVD this year

commentary /// Conejo Valley Days



SELFIE SHOT—Acorn reporter Becca Whitnall checks out Conejo Valley Days with nephew Skyler.

SELFIE SHOT—Acorn reporter Becca Whitnall checks out Conejo Valley Days with nephew Skyler.

Where’s the Conejo Valley in Conejo Valley Days?

Don’t get me wrong—the annual Thousand Oaks event is just fine as far as local carnivals go.

This year I checked it out on the Friday night of the fourday festival, and I brought my 10-year-old nephew, Skyler, who had a blast. While the majority of the crowd seemed to be high schoolers and young adults, Sky held his own on rides that had him swirling, twirling, swinging and flying.

He declared the first ride he went on was the very best of its kind. The Starship 2000, sometimes called the Gravitron at amusement parks and carnivals, pins riders against the wall with centrifugal force equivalent to three times the force of gravity as the floor falls away.

I’m pretty sure it didn’t spin any faster than others, as he proclaimed, but given the grin on his face as he stepped down the ramp leading from the flying saucer-shaped contraption, I wasn’t inclined to argue.

He also rode the Sizzler, the Cliff Hanger and the Sea Dragon, a swinging boat-type ride.

“I don’t have enough tickets for the Mega Loop,” he told me with finality toward the end of our time there.

In 10-year-old, I think that translates to, “That ride goes upside down and there’s not a chance I’m riding it.”

Admittedly, he didn’t go on a ton of rides. At $4 to $6 a pop (younger kid rides were $3 and $4), the sheet of tickets I bought him disappeared quickly.

I didn’t mind the cost terribly. After all, entrance to the event is only $5 for children and $10 for adults. In the interest of full disclosure, I was given a press pass, but I did buy Skyler’s ticket and paid the $5 parking fee.

Proceeds from the event are what keep it coming back, and that’s an important thing for a ton of local organizations. Some, like the Thousand Oaks Elks Lodge, have food booths. Others put in time selling tickets, directing parking and doing other tasks to earn much-needed money for their clubs.

In that way, there’s something local about it. There’s also the fact that the man behind it, Frank Akrey, has deep Thousand Oaks roots.

But I know this because I’ve been reporting on the event for years. If, like most visitors, you just came for the fun, would you know there was anything particularly special about Conejo Valley Days that differentiates it from the next carnival down the road? I wonder.

On Friday night, there was hardly a nod to the valley’s ranching past. There was country music featured, but long gone are stagecoach races, the ladies’ western dress contest and the gentlemen’s whiskeroo contest. The CVD sheriff fundraising competition is gone as well.

I didn’t even see a reminder of Jungleland or the Hollywood types who would sometimes grace the Conejo Valley Days Parade, a favorite of longtime T.O. residents.

Maybe it’s the event itself that make it Conejo Valleyish. This year’s carnival is the 63rd, so you could say it’s an area staple all on its own. Conejo Valley Days dates back to the 40s or even earlier. I’ve been told it evolved from a time the ranchers and their hands came together to celebrate after the harvest seasons. The CVD website (conejovalleydays.us) says it was first a community circus that took place at the Jungleland compound, according to an old newspaper article.

It became known officially as Conejo Valley Days in 1956.

Whether or not it still pays homage to the wild West may not matter. It brings fun and smiles to Thousand Oaks residents. That seems good enough.

As long as it keeps doing that, I’ll be back. And as long as the spaceship ride returns, Skyler likely will as well.

Whitnall, a native of Ventura County, covers Thousand Oaks City Hall for the Acorn.