The Attraction of America’s Roadside Distractions

August 23, 2007

If carefully planned, driving across the United States can be a trip back in time to a world of innocent roadside attractions. Places that seem to exist only in coffee table books and old family movies suddenly loom ahead as you drive along an old strip of Route 66 or take a diverting scenic drive down a long-bypassed highway.

Yes, there actually is a giant ball of string in Darwin, Minnesota – and another one in Cawker City, Kansas. Across America you can find glass aquariums holding various desert critters like snakes, scorpions, and large hairy spiders. You can still see life-size dinosaurs, and even go inside some, as well as a giant chicken, a giant elephant, and various giant fruits and vegetables. Pose next to Paul Bunyon’s giant blue ox, Babe, or a 140-foot long fish. Pet an actual buffalo.

Many such attractions are fee free - or so it may seem. After 3 hours of relentless, curveless desert driving, the promise of a roadside restroom is enough of an enticement for most people to stop. Seeing the 2-headed calf is a special bonus, although the kids may regard that as the main reason to stop. Museum-oriented families can visit vast collections of toilet seats, PEZ candies, and dirt from around the world.

It’s the clever pandering to the necessities of travel that will tap your wallet. Cold drinks, hot food, batteries and film are the staples. An arrowhead key ring or novelty envelope of rattlesnake eggs are the requisite items of proof that you’ve ever been to Cowdung, Texas.

Although they are termed “tourist traps,” I must admit my affection for them. They are Americana, and stubbornly refuse to be digitized, lazerized, or any other such -ized that may signal their capitulation to 21^st century sensibilities. These are the last vestiges of the traveling carnivals and freak shows that are the stuff of childhood wonder and dreams - if not nightmares.

We love to be shocked and amazed and even scared. I’ve seen eyeless cave fish, brains in jars, a gigantic colon, and the mummified body of a 19^th century prospector. Just for fun (and odd bragging rights) I’ve ridden on a camel-drawn hay wagon in Arizona, rappelled down a cold cave wall deep beneath the sand-baked surface of Nevada, and pushed an ancient ore cart through a depleted gold mine in California.

My dresser drawer is full of trophies from my voyages back in time to ancient Americana: a chunk of fool’s gold, a tiny scorpion embedded in amber-coloured plastic, shark teeth, arrow heads, a turquoise and silver pinkie ring, sadly inert Mexican jumping beans, petrified wood from the Redwood National Park, a vial of multicoloured sand from the Painted Desert, and yes, a small brown envelope labelled “rattlesnake eggs.”

About the Author: Born into an often-transferred Navy family, I have been across the US several times, most recently when I moved to Vancouver, BC, where I now create websites, write songs and stories, and produce videos for a living.