Tag: Paul Bunyan

  • Lumberjacks of 66

    Lumberjacks of 66

    This post is part of an ongoing series called 66 Fridays, which explores the wonders of old Route 66. Click on the preceding “66 Fridays” link to view all posts in the series, or visit the initial overview post here. Since Route 66 passes through the Great Plains and the Desert Southwest, and not at…

  • A landmark day

    A landmark day

    It’s hard to imagine that much time has passed already, but today this blog turns two years old. (Last year’s anniversary post is here.) In the past 24 months you’ve crisscrossed the continent with me, pinballing back and forth from place to place, landmark to landmark. So I figured there was no better way to…

  • Kings of the road

    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…

  • Chop chop

    Chop chop

    Just in case Paul Bunyan is looking to trade up… I think I found just the thing.

  • 63 axe handles high

    63 axe handles high

    Well, I wouldn’t exactly call this statue the handsomest Paul Bunyan in the world, but you gotta love that plaid shirt and winning smile. He’s got plenty of moxie—which makes me think Portland is the perfect place for him.

  • Paul’s flaxen frére

    Paul’s flaxen frére

    Oh, you didn’t know Paul Bunyan had a brother (from another mother)? Well, neither did I. But thankfully my proud K State alumni friends, who know the “Little Apple” better than anyone, set the record straight for me. I give you Johnny Kaw—the frontier’s biggest pioneer. Let Paul handle the trees up nort’—Johnny’s got his…

  • Babe-y blue

    Babe-y blue

    There are a lot of Paul Bunyan statues out there (and I’ve sketched a bunch of them, as you’ll see in the coming months), but I honestly think there are none finer than the magnificent Paul and Babe way up nort’ in Bemidji, Minnesota. In fact, I may go so far as to say these…