Why Is This Mountaintop So Interesting?

Meaning is not something you stumble across, like the answer to a riddle or the prize in a treasure hunt. Meaning is something you build into your life.

— John Gardner

Dust Off that GameCube!

You know how I get some good ol' 2003 nostalgia?

I grab a copy of the cult classic Kirby Air Ride, jump straight into the best game mode, ⭐City Trial⭐, and think back on the times playing with my siblings; completing the checklist multiple times over, trying to hit the back wall in the Air Glider stadium event, our "dogfight only" melee rules, fighting over Shadow Star... 😌.

Oh, and we spent a lot of time hanging out on a rock.

Heat Top Scenic Overlook

Welcome to the Heat Top Scenic Overlook (unofficial name), contender for the least eventful location in the game. Machines and items spawn at every other corner of the map, but it's clear that the developers decided that this mountaintop was perfect as-is. No gameplay purpose, no frills, just solid collision.

But "no gameplay purpose" to a 10-year-old? That's an invitation.

Take another look. It's actually a secret garage for collecting machines, and a penthouse with a view. During battle, the lone flower on the fenced peak could be claimed "king of the hill" style. It even came with built-in challenges, like landing machines on the unfenced peak or inching Wheelie Scooter out onto the tapering ledge. This overlook was more than just a rock—it was anything we needed it to be.

So, What, Imagination?

Well, yeah, partially. Maybe there's a bit more to it.

Ever heard of the secret bases in Pokémon? If I wasn't running around as Kirby, I was sure holed up in one of these. All it took was the addition of tiny pixel furniture to have me spending hours decorating a home-away-from-home, or becoming a "secret gym leader" in my siblings' games. Hoenn Route 116 is my second favorite location in the entire game series, solely because of those little hideouts.

But my favorite location? That distinction belongs to Kanto Route 4, up on the hill after exiting Mt. Moon. And yep, you guessed it—there was absolutely nothing up there. 1999 me would stand there forever, imagining a cozy rest spot with a view overlooking Cerulean City... The only movement on-screen was my confused Pikachu spinning in circles.

Why?

A blank canvas is a playground for the imagination.

— Marty Rubin

If I Had to Guess...

Perhaps it's the desire to "plant my own flag" in the game world, or at least make discoveries that feel like my own. I've always felt that the appeal of an area plummets if I know its true purpose, so that tracks with my gameplay habits. There's just this inconspicuous sense of ownership and creative agency found when making your own meaning.

But what about locations meant for designing? Shouldn't that be right up my alley? How does a random hill beat out a secret base?

Like before, there's that sense of ownership. Secret bases are a designed game feature, with its own set of rules, while the Route 4 hill was something I "discovered". My hill, my rules. It could also be related to feeling limited; the Game Boy, as awesome as it was, was incredibly resource constrained. Restrictions were necessary—and don't get me wrong, designing around them was an art in its own right. But if you ask me, it's much harder to find limitations in childhood imagination, when compared to a few hundred kilobytes of Game Boy memory.

There's no real conclusion to all this; I just find it interesting.