Hershey Park Bag Policy On Rides

You know that feeling. You’ve been standing in line for the Skyrush for forty-five minutes, and the sun is making your neck sweat. You’ve got a giant purse slung over one shoulder, a water bottle in one hand, and a half-eaten turkey leg in the other. Then you see the sign.

The Great Purse Panic

It’s the moment every Hershey Park visitor dreads: the bag policy on rides. It feels less like a theme park rule and more like a pop quiz from a very strict, very sugar-crazed principal. You start frantically shoving your chapstick into your pocket and asking your friend, “Can you hold this? What about this?”

Think of it like real life, but with more screaming and loops. You know how you have to empty your pockets before going through airport security? This is that, but with chocolate on your hands and a screaming child behind you. It’s a beautiful chaos.

The “Just a Fanny Pack” Lie

Everyone says, “Oh, just bring a fanny pack, you’ll be fine.” And fanny packs are fine—until you try to fit your phone, a wallet, sunscreen, and a souvenir chocolate bar into one. It’s like packing a suitcase into a Ziploc bag. By the end of the ride, you’ve either lost your sunscreen or your fanny pack is doing a very sad, floppy dance around your waist.

The park’s rule is simple: if it’s bigger than a small clutch, it’s gotta go in a locker. The locker is the hero of this story—or the villain, depending on how much you hate spending $10 to store a comb and a bag of Kisses. It’s the gatekeeper between you and your roller coaster dreams.

The “Pocket Jenga” Setup

So you end up playing a game I call Pocket Jenga. First, your phone goes in your front right pocket. Then, your keys in the left. Sunglasses get hooked on your collar, like a confused hawk. Your wallet goes in the back pocket, which is a bad idea, but you have no choice. You look like a character from a video game who can carry 500 swords.

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And then, the coup de grâce: the hat. You either risk it flying off into the abyss, or you stuff it under your shirt like you’re hiding a secret. I once watched a man tuck his baseball cap into his armpit before the Great Bear. He looked like a nervous flamingo. He did it for the ride. We all did.

The “Will It Fly?” Moment

Right before the lift hill, you do a mental inventory. Did I zip my pocket? Is my phone going to launch into a tree? Is that lady’s loose change going to hit me in the eye? It’s a bonding experience. Total strangers become a team of bag guardians, silently hoping that no one’s earbuds become a projectile.

I once saw a woman bring a full-on reusable grocery bag onto the Comet. She held it on her lap the whole ride, clutching it like a baby. The bag survived. I did not. The G-forces turned her grocery bag into a weapon, and she accidentally smacked me in the face with her towel. We laughed, because what else can you do?

Hershey Park Regulations at Terry Haskell blog

The Locker Economy

Let’s talk about the lockers. They are the boss level of the Hershey Park bag policy. You walk up, tap the screen, and suddenly you’re paying $15 to store a backpack that cost $25. It feels like a ransom. A ransom for your freedom to ride a coaster that goes upside down.

And the lockers are tiny. You push your bag in, and it’s like playing Tetris with your belongings. You have to bend your water bottle to make it fit. You close the door and hope the entire thing doesn’t explode from the pressure. It’s a small miracle every time.

The “Is It Safe?” Routine

Then you get on the ride, and your mind shifts. The bag is gone. You are free. For a glorious two minutes, you have no responsibility except holding on and screaming. It’s like a mini-vacation from your own stuff. You forget about the $5 you spent on the locker. You forget about your fanny pack digging into your hip.

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You just feel the wind and the adrenaline. It’s the purest form of joy you can get with your pants stuffed with keys.

The Takeaway

The Hershey Park bag policy on rides is not a rule. It’s a rite of passage. It’s the awkward, silly, cash-grabbing hurdle you jump over to get to the good stuff. It’s like folding a fitted sheet: frustrating, confusing, but ultimately worth it when you see the result.

So next time you’re there, just embrace the chaos. Wear cargo shorts with a million pockets. Accept that your hat will either be in your armpit or lost forever. And remember: the line for the ride is easier than the line for the locker. And that’s the real joke of the whole park.

Go on, ride the Lightning Racer. Your fanny pack will survive. Probably.