I love to fly. It never ceases to amaze me that you can traverse the country in five or six hours. I always find myself thinking about the wooden puzzle I had as a kid, where all the pieces had a little nubbin handle that you used to place the states in their correct slot. To get to Oregon from Pennsylvania would surely require a rocket ship, I thought back then.
There is something to be said, however, for a good old road trip. No need to restrict your wardrobe to a 24” suitcase, you can find a larger, cleaner bathroom when the need arises. Snacks aren’t limited to a small bag of pretzels or a $20 soggy frittata. If you see a sign for a place you’ve never heard of, no problem: exit up ahead.
Before loading up the car, the planner in me begins researching weeks, even months, in advance in order to optimize the time and space between here and there. I never miss the chance to visit a Roadside Attraction. Actually, I seek them out. No longer able to drive since my vision loss, I can still keep these side trip destinations a secret from my husband, as I do the navigating. That’s right, the blind girl gives the directions, a Roadside Attraction unto itself. Unfortunately, signage often ruins the covert operation prior to our arrival at a cruely described “oddity”, but I always hope that not until the rubber meets the parking lot is all revealed.
All but one of the following required venturing at least an hour from our mutually agreed upon, intended next stop.
In Flanders, New York, I have been inside the 20′ The Big Duck. Once used to sell ducks and duck eggs, it is now filled with tote bags, magnets, ornaments and postcards for sale. Mounted on the wall are framed, yellowing newspaper articles in which it is featured. And, yes, one of the above mentioned items can be found on the front of our refrigerator, another hangs on our tree in December. Proudly.
There was the burrito stand in Gilbert, Arizona topped by a 7′ gopher, Topo. In case it’s not clear, I took us there for the giant rodent, not the food.
On the same trip, Mister Rain clocked 95 mph trying to beat the clock to watch the second tallest fountain in the United States, the fourth in the world, the Fountain Hills Fountain, go off on the hour. Its plume can reach up to 560’. We made it just in time to take a few pictures before it shut off for another 45 minutes.
Big Quails With Human Toys, in Oro Valley, Arizona, is a family of adult people-sized birds with skateboards, soccer balls and swimsuits, ready for a day of fun at a local park.
A coffee lover, I had to drip by the 18′ former bar, prior lunch place, The Big Coffee Pot, in Bedford, Pennsylvania. Not doing so would be grounds for turning in my Starbucks card, leaving me in a dark roasted state.
Driving over 100 miles out of my way to do so, I have stood on the corner of Winslow, Arizona. There I purchased a t-shirt which came with a fabric marker so that you could fill in the distance you had come off your carefully mapped out route to lean against a street sign at an intersection. The fact that a souvenier such as this exists proves that I am not alone in my quest for the unique detour on my way to somewhere else.
You may be asking yourself, this is all very interesting but where can I find the world’s largest burger? Why, at Denny’s Beer Barrel Pub in Clearfield, Pennsylvania, of course. We considered ordering one until a giant plate went by our table containing the record holder. Recognizing that our eyes were bigger than our stomachs, we chose a normal quantity of beef instead.
While we’re talking size, the World’s Largest Cuckoo Clock can be found in Sugarcreek, Ohio. When we went there, I was unaware that it had been closed for the winter. Returning to the car, my nephew, 13 at the time, kindly handed me his phone with a You Tube video showing the clock in full operation. Five years later, he’ll give me his device without saying a word. When I look at the screen, there it is. Funny kid becomes funny man. But you know what? It is a memory we will have forever. At the end of all this nonsense, that is what travel is all about.
This country is full of all sorts of people with different passions. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure and all that. Going to historic settings is a pursuit of mine. The nation’s vast, diverse landscapes are also a thrill. But nothing says America more than a SPAM Museum, to which I have not yet had the pleasure. I sure hope my husband isn’t reading this. I certainly wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise . . . or have him start divorce proceedings.
For previously published Roadside Attractions, click below:
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
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