With Chrono Cross: The Radical Dreamers Edition releasing later this week, I thought I’d share the story of how I forded a river to get my own copy back in the year 2000.
In the past, I’ve talked about how playing Final Fantasy VI changed the course of my life. If I hadn’t played it, I likely would have never moved to Japan nor become a professional game/anime critic. But if Final Fantasy VI was my first step down this path, playing Chrono Trigger was my second.
After the transcendent experience of playing Final Fantasy VI, the twin brother of my friend who had recommended it to me came to me with a startling claim; “If you like Final Fantasy VI, you’ll love Chrono Trigger: it’s even better.” To say I was skeptical would be an understatement. Because it was made by the same company and had improved graphics (and because I was dying from Final Fantasy VI withdrawal), I scoured my small town for it. Somehow, I managed to find a single brand-new copy of the game at our local Toys-R-Us—despite the game having been released in limited numbers only a year before.
And truth be told, my friend was not wrong. Chrono Trigger is a fantastic experience on par with Final Fantasy VI to say the very least and, thanks to its New Game+, is much easier to revisit. On many a lazy Sunday, I would happily pop in the game and play it from start to finish in a single sitting.
Years passed and I entered high school but my love for Chrono Trigger never diminished—and then came the announcement of a sequel: Chrono Cross. That very day I convinced my Mom to take me to the mall after school to reserve the game (along with the pre-order gift clock) and strategy guide (as this was still the age of dial up internet) at the local Software Etc.
Yet, as August 15, 2000, approached, I realized I had a problem: August 15 was a Tuesday. And while I was still off for summer break, my parents were not. Moreover, while I was a high schooler, I did not have my driver’s license yet. That meant that, if I wanted to pick up the game, I would need to walk there.
Now, this wouldn’t be a problem for me normally. There were many times when I’d walk for hours across the city to visit friends. (Being an only child with tons of free time and no money can make you do crazy things for human interaction.) However, in this case, I wanted to pick up the game right when the mall opened and return home to play ASAP.
And that was the problem. While you could see the mall from my house, there was a river right in between. Worse still, I was about as far from a pedestrian bridge as possible. Even if I made sure to leave super early and arrive before the mall opened, it would still take me at least 40 minutes to get back—40 minutes I could be spending with the game. This was unacceptable. Clearly, there was only one logical option: I would need to put my Oregon Trail experience into practice and ford the river.
In the end, I decided that I would cross the river both ways. The first time would be a test—to make sure I could find a crossing with no hidden deep spots. Then, I would just cross at the same point on the way back without having to worry about stumbling and dropping my loot. So, come the morning of August 15, I set out to cross the river. At the bank, I took off my shoes and socks and held them with one hand. Then, putting my Boy Scout knowledge to use, picked up a large branch and began using it to test the depth of the river before each step.
As this was near the end of summer, the river wasn’t particularly deep or fast flowing. While it was still rather wide, there were no sudden increases in depth and the highest the water reached was just past my knees (around 2 feet deep). When I reached the far bank, I realized that my feet were both wet and covered in sand—and I hadn’t had enough foresight to bring a towel. But for Chrono Cross, I would just have to deal with it. I used my socks as a towel, put my bare feet into my shoes and continued on to the mall.
I picked up the game with no problem and returned to the river for the return crossing. However, this time, my hands were full—shoes in one hand, a bag containing the game, clock, and guide in the other. I wouldn’t be able to use my trusty stick to check the depth before each step or use it for support if I lost balance. I remember that, even in the moment, I knew that this was something truly dangerous and stupid. Slow though the river might have been, slipping and falling was always a possibility. At best, I would ruin the guide and clock. At worst, I could get stuck under some under water debris and drown. But nonetheless, I pressed on with all the recklessness of youth and made the crossing with no issue.
I spent the rest of the day playing Chrono Cross—only to start the game over later that night when I cracked open the guide and realized I had missed my opportunity to recruit Poshul. So, all in all, crossing the river was stupid, dangerous, and, despite saving maybe 10-20 minutes of travel time, was ultimately pointless. Luckily, I realized this even then. To the best of my memory, this was the only time I crossed the river to get to the mall. And soon enough, my slightly older friends got their licenses and had no complaints playing taxi to hang out or pick up a new game to play together.
Now, over 20 years later, Chrono Cross is being released again and I’m feeling the same old excitement as I wait. And although I won’t need to ford a river to pick it up this time, I will be jumping through all the hoops needed to get myself a physical copy—even if I have to wait a few days to play it this time. Maybe this means I have learned to have a little patience…
…though given how much I’ve paid for expedited shipping, probably not.
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