PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

The food options at Kennywood Phantom Fall Fest are delicious, even if they’re in bad taste.

Horror fans will eat up the Open Body Buffet that features ribs, “feet”loaf and severed hand charcuterie. If you don’t want to gorge yourself on gruesome grub, there are autumnal sweets such as pumpkin spice shakes, fried s’mores, cinnamon apple funnel cakes, creepy ice cream cones and spiked hot chocolate.

PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

After binging on body parts, I hit the haunts. There are more than 30 attractions this year and hordes of costumed characters lurking throughout the park. In addition to navigating mazes and dodging monsters, you can take an off-season spin on some of your favorite Kennywood rides, from the Aero 360 and Black Widow to the Jack Rabbit and Turtle.

PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

The 22nd annual event runs on select dates through Oct. 27, with family-friendly festivities during the day and more fearsome fun between 6 and 10 p.m. Check out the website for tickets and more information.

I visited Phantom Fall Fest on a 95-degree day, but there were skeletons everywhere so I can’t complain too much about summer stepping on autumn’s bony toes. Of course, I can’t see a plastic corpse at Kennywood without pining for Le Cachot.

PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

The defunct Kennywood dark ride was guarded by two skeletal, motorcycle-ridin’ knights, making it the park’s most aesthetically badass attraction. (The Old Mill has reclaimed that title now that Garfield’s gone and the ghouls are back in business.)

Le Cachot (that’s French for “The Dungeon”) made small children cry, yet was tame enough for grandmas to enjoy. The ride’s regal facade looked like a cross between a Molly Hatchet album cover and the pastel set of “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In”. Maybe that’s why Laffin’ Sal, a fright in her own right, was stationed near the boarding area for a spell.

The ride experience was short and chaotic, filled with strobe lights, jolting S-curves, Day-Glo creatures, condescending screams and the clickety-clack of cars on the track. Everybody wanted to ride it – nay, had to ride it! — yet there never seemed to be a line.

The randomness of Le Cachot helped to shape my weird personality.

I always followed my stint in haunted jail with a bone-rattling ride on the neighboring Thunderbolt (I bet maintenance man Geno Chamboredon is a distant relative of those French skeletons!). After my stomach settled for a bit, I’d inhale a basket of Potato Patch fries like it was my Death Row Last Meal before heading back to the Satanic slammer.

Le Cachot operated from 1972 until the end of the 1998 season, Kennywood’s 100th anniversary. During that centennial summer, my friend Barb, an out-of-towner, accompanied me to the park. I was so excited to introduce her to the macabre majesty of Le Cachot, I suggested we wear matching suits of armor! She was more impressed by my funnel cake intake.

In the last few years, Kennywood has done a lot to preserve the legacy of Le Cachot and other bygone thrills. For the 2024 Fall Fantasy Parades — an annual tradition that transports me back in time like a Pittsburgh Flux Capacitor — the KW crew created a Le Cachot-themed float that features my beloved skeleton-biker-knight that looks like an extra from Sam Raimi’s “Army of Darkness.”

Jeeters’ Pub, a midway bar named after a creepy, pink Kennywood mascot of yore, serves Penn Brewery beer and is decorated with nostalgic murals that will make even the toughest yinzer weep. There’s an entire wall depicting the groovy dungeon in all of its glory, so crush a few pints of Kaiser Pils and DON’T STAND UP too fast as you leave.

When the pub was unveiled at an April media preview, I cried so much my eyes started twitching like Beth Snodgrass’s in “Kennywood Memories.”

Speaking of Rick Sebak’s 1988 magnum opus, I rewatched it for what’s gotta be the 412th time before letting artist Joe Bruce ink a skeleton-biker-knight on my arm at Millvale’s Three Rivers Tattoo. I had hoped to baptize it in Raging Rapids water, but the wet ride’s been drained for the season to make room for Voodoo Bayou, a spooky swampland excursion.

So, I knighted Sir Skull with a corndog instead. He’s a permanent tribute to Pittsburgh’s faux French prison and the undead road warriors who stole the key to my heart.

Je t’aime, n’at!