How to Get Drunk at Disneyland

Once upon a time, Disney's adult clientele could be summed up in three categories: parents, fanatics, and bachelorettes (a puzzling trend, unless there's a secret strip joint tucked under Space Mountain's tracks). Though touted as fun for all ages, Disney's lack of liquor caused sybaritic grown-ups to seek fun elsewhere.

But lately, there's a new crew in Toontown: the drinking crowd.

Until 2013, booze was prohibited at Disney World and Disneyland due to Walt's wishes to keep his parks G-rated. Yet, there is one magical kingdom that has hawked hooch since its 2001 opening: Disney California Adventure Park (DCA). As a family destination, Disney downplays its tipsiest theme park. I'm here to sing its praises.

I initially dismissed the newest member of the Mickey Empire, assuming it was sloppy seconds to its OG neighbor, Disneyland. But when I finally stumbled into DCA on a park-hopper pass—and discovered the abundance of alcoholic offerings—I was hooked.

How did Disney California Adventure bypass the booze ban? Location, location, location. An amusement park that celebrates the Golden State can't leave out its major industries: wine, craft beer, and hedonism. Leave it to the home of hippies and Hollywood to spike Disney's sober image.

California Adventure is a grown-up land of make-believe. Drinking and driving don't mix in the real world, but at Radiator Spring Racers (where cars run on metal tracks) you can operate your motor vehicle under the influence of as many drinks you can muster. Stroll down Buena Vista Street with an open beer? No problemo.

Behold: my guide on Getting Soused in the Land of the Mouse. Here's how my friend, JC, and I explored the happiest place on earth…one sip at a time.

Our Tour de Tipples started at the stroke of noon, the hour when drinking is deemed respectable (which I say as a former bartender who worked the day shift at an NYC dive). It's also the hour when Disney begins serving the hard stuff. Beer, the official beverage of daytime boozing, is an apt amuse-bouche. First stop: Pacific Wharf Distribution Co., a craft brew truck that proudly pours San Diego suds from Karl Strauss. I chose a Red Trolley Ale from the rotating taps and grab a perch on the patio. As I lifted my glass, I caught the eye of a weary dad surrounded by a swarm of rowdy kids. We toasted in suds' solidarity as he drowned out his boisterous brood in his pint.

The next beverage was within stumbling distance. Across the patio, Rita's Baja Blenders dispensed frosty, frozen margaritas. In lime or strawberry, the drinks are also available sans alcohol. A mother/daughter duo—blinged out in identical, gold Minnie ears—toted matching margaritas; guess it's never too early to start drinking lessons. The two-drinks-per-person max means we couldn't fiesta forever, but we had to pace ourselves for our inebriation itinerary. We grabbed our margaritas for the long Tower of Terror queue; agave is the antidote to line-waiting frustration.

After screaming our lungs out on DCA's best ride, we were parched. We wandered over to Paradise Bay, home of the park's rollicking good rollercoaster, California Screamin'. Cove Bar is destination cocktail—I'm talking cheesy, 1980s Tom Cruise, not the mustachioed mixologists of today. Here, colorful quaffs are cooler than a boring, brown Manhattan. There's a secret menu that peddles Mickey's Fun Wheel, an electric-blue booze bomb with lemon wheel ears.

Though the drinks looked froufrou, they packed a potent punch, as exhibited by the girl who fell off her stool besides us. For a multi-sensory sip, time your visit to Cove Bar with World of Color, the nightly extravaganza of water, fire, and lights. Think Vegas's Bellagio fountains meets Pink Floyd Spectacular in Disney's shiny, happy hue.

Five hours in, Disney had hit full capacity. We escaped to the Alfresco Tasting Terrace, a balcony above the Wine Country Trattoria, for a respite from the bustle below. Alliterative wine flights—Charismatic Chardonnays, Perfect Pinots—are plucked from the Disney Family of Wines. Yes, Disney has its big, white hands in oenology, with each winery connected by blood (Walt's daughter, Diane, owns Silverado Vineyards), business (former Disney prez Richard Frank's Frank Family Vineyards), and the big screen (actor Kurt Russell's GoGi Wines).

As the sun set and our buzz rose, we sauntered over to the Carthay Circle Lounge. DCA's newest spot whisks guests back to the golden age of cocktails, the 1920s. Sip classics—Negronis, Aviations—shaken and stirred by white coat-clad barmen; nostalgia is prime currency for Disney. We sunk into clubby leather chairs, and I ordered a dirty Double Cross martini. In the sumptuous space, I forgot I was in a theme park, until a couple walked by clad in shorts, flip flops, and fanny packs. In Fantasyland, there's no dress code at fancy bars.

To wrap up our indulgent day, we unwrapped a Cap-n-Crunch edible. Drugs are, of course, another adult way to experience Disney magic. Walt himself was rumored to have journeyed to Mexico for mushrooms, the alleged inspiration for Fantasia's dancing fungi.

As we cruised Hollywood Land stoned, we stumbled into the most extraordinary event: The Mad T Party. The outdoor, dance party was like an early 90s rave, with all-neon everything, DJs, and fur-boot clad go-go dancers. Inspired by Tim Burton, this trippy carnival made even sober attendees feel high.

The Drink Me Bar lured us in with their lit-up libations; I grabbed a Mad Hat-ito for my neon nightcap. We joined the crowds on the dance floor. As the kids around us were amped up on sugary snacks and post-ride adrenaline; JC and I were high on THC and the delight of discovering this surreal, surprising rave. Together, we all drank up the Disney Kool-Aid—differently, yet together.

High ho, high ho, it's off to California Adventure Park we go.