Visiting the boardwalk along the Jersey Shore last week was just a side bonus. My real motivation for that day’s trip was to see someone else—whom you’ll meet in Friday’s post. In the meantime, though, here’s a clue.
Any guesses?
Tag Archives: world’s largest
Serves four (hundred)
Well, I can’t feature the Winlock Egg without giving you something to cook it in, can I? Just over the coast range from Winlock is the town of Long Beach, home of the perfect roadside companion to the World’s Largest Egg.
Since it’s not exactly as flamboyant as, say, a giant orange, people often blow right by this one without even noticing it. But this giant frying pan is much more than just a monument. It’s a replica of a real, no-kidding, fourteen-foot pan that was actually used to cook food. For many years this frying pan was a permanent fixture of Long Beach’s annual Razor Clam Festival—where chefs actually used it for the clam fritter cook-off. I don’t know about you, but that fact alone raises this humble giant right to the top of my personal list of favorite roadside attractions.
Speaking of which, my roadside attractions gallery exhibit is closing tomorrow (Washington folks, hurry!), so today is the last post about roadside giants—for a little while, at least. Next week I’ll be back with a different topic and a broader range of sketches. But I hope you’ve had as much fun as I have these past few weeks—because as you can probably guess, there’s a lot more where this came from.
Happy weekend—see you on Monday.
Eggstra large
Now, I know I can go to the market and find eggs in small, medium, large, extra-large and jumbo. But can I get a round dozen in World’s Largest?
(Maybe that’s what those Washington cooperative farmers have been hatching…)
Two-ton tater tot
Oh, the fates were cruel to me this day. I happened to pass through a town that shared my last name, and in that town I stumbled upon a giant fiberglass potato. In front of a potato museum.
Which had closed an hour before.
Now, really. That’s just not fair.
Tuxedo twins
Bless their hearts, these birds aren’t quite so elegant as the Topeka Wren, but that’s no reason not to stand proud and proclaim their purpose.
Actually, even that is a little muddled here. Maybe Cut Bank really is the coldest spot in the nation… just don’t tell International Falls, MN. Or, you know, the entire state of Alaska.
And Washington’s famous Yard Birds store? Well, it’s defunct. But that’s okay—the 60-foot namesake (12th bird?) is alive and well, and standing for something, at the very least.
Wrented wings
I’m always up for the hokey and awkward when it comes to roadside attractions, but every now and again you find a true masterpiece.
Case in point: the Topeka Wren (formerly the mascot for WREN radio in Lawrence, KS) nearly took my breath away. This bird is a couple decades older than your average roadside statue, so that may explain the difference in style. But what I love is how true to form the sculpture is. The sweeping bill and tail defy the parameters of what concrete can achieve, and the pose is incredibly lifelike.
I know, I know—it’s completely nuts to wax poetic about giant concrete birds. But if roadside sculptures were oil paintings (which is a comparison I often make, heaven help me!), I’m pretty sure this is the one DaVinci would have created.
And the winner is…
I don’t normally post on Thursdays, but I had to break in here to tell you that the Giant Twine Ball in Darwin, MN is the clear people’s choice! No disrespect to its lovely (and technically larger) sisal-sister in Kansas, but the voters have spoken, and by an overwhelming margin, Minnesota’s masterpiece is the clear winner. Congratulations, Darwin—you’re a superstar in my book.
Thanks to everybody who cast their vote here on the blog or on social media! The Tailor is extremely grumpy about the outcome, of course, but I’m glad y’all set the record straight.
Feeling blue
I’m not sure if kids used to find this guy diverting or terrifying, but the Blue Whale of Catoosa is still just as memorable as he must have been in his heyday.
This spot was once a roadside swimmin’ hole along Route 66. These days it’s just a roadside monument, but that’s okay—it’s not like we were there at the right time of year.
It didn’t matter—all of a sudden, we felt like we were eight years old again.
* * *
Today is the last day to vote for the best Twine Ball! Hurry and cast your vote, and we’ll declare the winner on Facebook tomorrow!
Never the twine shall meet
The Tailor and I have been having the same argument for years now. It’s really one of those fundamental debates in life, revolving around the universe’s most pressing question:
Which Giant Twine Ball is better?
Now I’m going to tell you up front: Kansas is the Tailor’s home state. So I think it’s bias talking when he tells you (and anyone who’ll listen) that the World’s Largest Twine Ball in Cawker City reigns supreme.
Okay, okay, I’ll grant that it’s the actual World’s Largest. It’s over 40 feet in diameter, and made up of nearly 8 million feet of twine. Impressive, yes. But here’s the thing: this monster was a community effort. Every year they hold a “Twine-a-thon” and add more string to the beast. I don’t know why, but much as I applaud the community spirit, somehow that feels like cheating to me.
By comparison, the 12-foot Twine Ball in Darwin, Minnesota seems kinda puny, I know. But at 17,400 pounds, it’s no lightweight. And more importantly, this one was made entirely by one man: Mr. Francis A. Johnson, who wrapped twine four hours a day, every day, for 29 years.
When was the last time you devoted your life to creating a roadside masterpiece? Not even Pee Wee Herman’s rubber-band ball has that kind of single-mindedness, my friends. And—and! Frank’s creation is the subject of a Weird Al song—which, as far as I’m concerned, is the final word on the subject.
I think we need to settle this once and for all. That’s right, it’s time for a Twine Ball Smackdown. Maybe a twine tug o’ war would be the most appropriate venue to solve this, but I only have pencils and pixels at my disposal here. So in the spirit of democracy, I’m putting this up for a vote.
Here’s where you come in: leave a comment stating your favorite Twine Ball—or if social media is your thing, you can vote by Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or Pinterest. And help spread the word! We want a mandate on this thing, folks—let’s get out the vote, and give either Mr. Johnson or the good folks of Cawker City a decisive victory.
Cast your vote in by Wednesday, October 8, and I’ll declare a winner on the Facebook page on Thursday. Hurry—twine’s a-wasting!
Kings of the road
Well, if I’m going to spend all this time talking about roadside attractions, I would be remiss if I didn’t include the legendary Muffler Men—guardians of gas stations, presidents of photo ops. If you’ve ever taken a road trip, you’ve probably seen at least one of these guys along the way.
These behemoths started appearing in the early 1960s (the very first one was on Route 66), to promote the brand new International Fiberglass Company in California. For whatever reason, they usually ended up in front of gas stations, holding giant mufflers—hence the nickname.
By 1970 there were thousands of them around the country, but the 1973 oil crisis forced the decline and eventual demise of International Fiberglass. These days the muffler men are an endangered species, down to just a few hundred stalwart lads (and a handful of lasses, too!).
For me, finding them has turned into something of a quest—and not just because I’m a completist (though, of course I am). You see, the most fun thing about these guys is that they’re not identical—there are many, many variations on the original design (and a few knock-offs, to boot).
Probably the most common variation is the Paul Bunyan—they’re certainly the most recognizable, even when their axes get stolen.
And when they’re spiffed up to their original glory, they’re unmistakeable. (This one is a mobile muffler man! When he surprised me at the local Daffodil Parade a few years ago, it felt like Christmas had come early.)
Though I’ll never pass up any iteration of Paul Bunyan, I’m most excited about the rare, extreme variants, the roadside sideshow—the Uniroyal Gals, the Happy Halfwits, the Carpet Vikings.
And best of all are the mutant modifications that have happened to some of these guys (you should have heard me squeal when I found this one!). Some have been altered so much as to be rendered almost unrecognizable. But you can’t fool me—once a muffler man, always a muffler man.
So tell me: have you found any muffler men in your travels? Do you have one in your neighborhood? I’m always on the look-out for a good one, so if you have any recommendations, I’m all (rabbit) ears.