At the entrance, watch where families are flowing and walk the other way for an hour.

Because early stroller and family traffic is a preview of where the day's about to get slammed. Most people turn the same direction off the entrance and pile into the first big land they see. If I go the opposite way, I get near walk-ons at attractions everyone else reaches an hour later. The map shows you where things are; the crowd shows you where they're heading.

Toward whatever headliner is closest and most famous — the one people came for. Off the entrance, watch the flow for thirty seconds: strollers and groups will stream one way almost in unison. That's your signal to go the other. You'll hit the same big rides later in the day when that first wave has moved on and the lines there have collapsed.

Some people do, but most don't — the majority still follow the herd toward the obvious landmark. You don't need the whole park to be wrong, just the bulk of it. Even if a handful of savvy folks go your way, walking against the main current still puts you ahead of hundreds of families. It's an edge, not a secret, and it holds up.

About an hour, which is the golden window. For that first hour the park is unevenly loaded — packed where everyone rushed, empty where they haven't reached yet. Ride against the grain hard during that time, then the crowd evens out and it stops mattering as much. Get two or three headliners done before the flow catches up and you've won the morning.