Jim Gray's Petrified Wood Co.

After striking out at the Rainbow Rock Shop and before we toured the Petrified Forest National Park, we stopped at Jim Gray’s Petrified Wood Company. Jim Gray’s, started by Jim and Cathy Gray nearly 50 years ago, is located just south of downtown Holbrook, Arizona on US-180. It’s 1.5 miles from the Wigwam Motel, and about 30 miles from the National Park.

Jim Gray’s is still family operated and owned. They were originally known as the Holbrook Rock Shop, but have since become “the worldwide premier dealer of Arizona Rainbow Petrified Wood.” Wood from Jim Gray’s has found its way into the Smithsonian, the White House, and museums all over the world. We stopped at several rock shops and trading posts along old Route 66, but Jim Gray’s has the largest collection of petrified wood, by far.

Taking specimens out of the National Park is illegal, and the park is monitored on the ground and from the air to prevent theft. Luckily for the Gray’s, they insist that "there's more petrified wood outside the park than in it," and they own the mineral rights to several pieces of land nearby. They do their own digging, cutting and polishing, turning the raw fossilized wood into polished rounds, clocks, bowls, paperweights, tabletops, bookends and other souvenirs.

The shop is a bonafide tourist destination on its own, and it beckons visitors with painted billboards advertising its large selection of rocks, gems, minerals, fossils, souvenirs, Indian crafts, and rainbow petrified wood. It also has a squished penny machine, several large dinosaur statues and restrooms.

The most famous of its attractions is Wild Bill, a 2.9 million year old alligator. Wild Bill, bought by the Grays in Florida and named for a family friend, is exhibited for free alongside an extensive collection of polished wood and rock specimens from around the world.  

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Jim Gray’s Petrified Wood Company
147 US-180
Holbrook, AZ
Open 7 days a week, 8 am-6:30 pm

Holbrook

Picking a favorite town along any stretch of Route 66 would be like picking a favorite child, but Holbrook is definitely a strong contender. Not only is it home to one of the three remaining Wigwam Motels (and the last one I slept in), but it is full of fantastic signage, overcrowded souvenir shops and more kitsch per-square mile than any other place we stopped along the way from Flagstaff to Albuquerque.

According to the 2010 census, the population of Holbrook was just over 5,000 people. Originally inhabited by the Anasazi, Puebloans, Navajo and Apache, the town was founded in the 1880s, and named after the first chief engineer of the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. In July of 1912, a 419-pound chondrite meteorite exploded over Holbrook, showering the area with 16,000 fragments. The largest piece, weighing 14.5 pounds, is currently housed at Arizona State University in Tempe.

Route 66 was officially designated in 1926 and the Mother Road passed right through Holbrook and the nearby Petrified Forest National Park. Holbrook isn’t quite as iconic as Tucumcari and it doesn’t have an up-and-coming arts district or a burgeoning restaurant scene, but it’s full of charm and more than its fair share of roadside dinosaurs.

After checking into the Wigwam, JMP and I headed out to explore the tiny town and we weren’t disappointed with what we found. We ate dinner at the Mesa Restaurant, serving authentic Italian cuisine alongside seafood, steaks, ribs and burgers (all of which are advertised on a excellent neon sign). We explored as much as we could before the sun went down, and ended the night with a DQ blizzard, which we ate under another excellent sign while sitting across from the Holbrook cemetery.

The next morning, while waiting for the Rainbow Rock Shop to open (which, it never did), we explored more of the town including several dinosaurs, abandoned motels and smaller rock shops. On the way out of town, I couldn’t not make a quick stop at Bucket of Blood Street, so named for a saloon that once stood nearby. In 1886, a gunfight erupted in the bar, resulting in so much carnage that “the floors were said to be slick with a ‘bucket of blood.’”

Rainbow Rock Shop

After checking out of the Wigwam, we stayed in Holbrook, Arizona specifically until 10 am to visit the Rainbow Rock Shop. Holbrook, a once-thriving stop along Route 66, has to have the largest dinosaur-to-people ratio of any town we stopped at on our trip along the Mother Road. The statues—made of various materials and styles—are scattered around town and each has its own unique story about how it ended up in Holbrook.

Holbrook is in an area of Arizona that is filled with fossils from the Triassic Period. Petrified Forest National Park, 25 miles northeast of Holbrook, contains the fossilized remains of terrestrial vegetation as well as the remains of dinosaur predecessors Phytosaurs and Allokotosaurs.

Located about a half mile east of the Wigwam Motel, the Rainbow Rock Shop is home to seven of Holbrook’s dinosaur statues. These concrete dinos were custom built by the owner over the course of twenty years, and they charge patrons to take photos with the prehistoric giants. I love their simple, cartoonish faces and they’re impossible to miss if you’re driving into, or out of, town.

I should say that I’ve only read that the owners charge for photo ops, because we didn’t actually go inside of the Rainbow Rock Shop. We arrived promptly at 10 am to find the shop closed. I, meticulous road trip planner, somehow missed that they were closed on Sundays. Luckily, you can see the dinosaurs from the sidewalk and most of the shop by peeking through the chainlink fence.

Rainbow Rock Shop is a souvenir shop that sells rocks, of course—Geodes each!—including petrified wood and other specialty rocks. I love the hand-painted signage, murals and low-tech, vintage vibe of the property. There is no shortage of options in the area to satisfy all of your specialty rock needs, but if you like to shop for your prehistoric souvenirs surrounded by roadside kitsch, the Rainbow Rock Shop is your place.

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Rainbow Rock Shop
101 Navajo Blvd
Holbrook, AZ
Open 10 am - 4:15 pm (lol) every day but Sunday

Winslow, Arizona

Winslow, Arizona is a town along old Route 66, east of Flagstaff, Twin Arrows, Two Guns and the Meteor City Trading Post. It’s about 20 minutes west of the Jack Rabbit Trading Post, 30 minutes west of Holbrook and 60 miles from the Petrified Forest National Park. Winslow wasn’t on my radar before our Route 66 trip back in June, but we had time before we had to check into the Wigwam Motel so we decided to stop.

My co-pilot and frequent road trip collaborator, Jean-Marie, reminded me that I most certainly had heard of Winslow, Arizona—and you probably have too. The 1972 song Take It Easy, penned by Jackson Browne and Glenn Frey, was the first single released by The Eagles. The song peaked at No. 12 on the July 22, 1972 Billboard Hot 100 chart and contained the lyrics, “Well, I'm a standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona and such a fine sight to see. It's a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed Ford slowin' down to take a look at me." The song was the opening track on the band's debut album; it has been included on all of their live and compilation albums and coincidentally (or not) it was playing outside of the souvenir shop when we stopped.

Apart from its tenuous connection to fame, there isn’t much to see in Winslow (apart from the Falcon The Family Restaurant’s wonderful signage). But you have to hand it to a city with a population of less than 10,000 for turning its proverbial fifteen minutes into a bonafide roadside attraction.

Once a thriving Route 66 destination, the town declined rapidly after it was bypassed by I-40 in the late ‘70s. The Standin' On the Corner Foundation was formed to build tourism and in 1999—funded by donors whose names are inscribed in bricks on the ground—Standin’ On the Corner Park opened.

The small park features a two-story trompe l'oeil mural by John Pugh on the surviving brick face of a building that burned down in 2004. Two bronze statues stand in front of the wall, one of a life-sized man who is standing on the corner with a guitar by his side, and one of Glenn Frey, who died in 2016. A red flatbed Ford—slowin' down to take a look at me—is parked nearby.

Across the street is a souvenir shop—also called Standin’ On the Corner—where you can squish a penny and buy Route 66 souvenirs or (disturbingly) pro-Trump bumper stickers and hats. Diagonal to the souvenir shop is a coffee shop and we sat outside sipping iced coffees and watched in amusement as families steadily piled out of their cars to take photos of themselves—you guessed it—standin’ on the corner (such a fine sight to see).

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Standin’ On the Corner Park
Corner of Kinsley and E 2nd Street
Winslow, AZ

Petrified Forest National Park

I am constantly blown away by the variety of landscapes that you can find without ever leaving the US, and Petrified Forest National Park is one of those places—like White Sands or Joshua Tree—that feels otherworldly. Petrified Forest National Park is located in the greater Painted Desert in northeastern Arizona. The Painted Desert accounts for about 1,500 square miles of the park’s 150,000 acres, but the main environment is short-grass prairie.

The park is so named for the large amount of petrified wood found within—fossils of fallen trees that lived 225 million years ago when the climate was humid and sub-tropical. Streams flowing across the plain carried trees and other plants and animals, most of which decayed normally.

Occasionally, organic matter is buried so quickly by sediment containing volcanic ash that it becomes fossilized when silica from the ash forms quartz crystals in place of the organic matter. Traces of iron oxide and other substances create the color variation, and millions of years later you have petrified wood—it retains the shape and texture of the original wood, but polishes to a shine like any other crystal.

Taking petrified wood from the park—even a small chip—is against federal law, but there are plenty of places nearby to buy rough or polished specimens in all shapes and sizes. I had never really seen much petrified wood until visiting Arizona but its in every trading post and souvenir shop that we stopped at along the way. I’m shocked that there is any left in the national park. There are two large shops conveniently located right outside of the park, with restrooms, snacks and some dinosaurs that have definitely seen better days.

We mostly drove through the park, stopping to get out and take photos whenever something caught our eye (which was often). There is so much more to the park than just petrified wood, including Newspaper Rock, the Agate Bridge, the teepees (not to be confused with the Wigwam, which we had stayed in the night before), the Blue Mesa and the rainbow and crystal forests. On the Giant Logs trail you’ll find just that, including “Old Faithful,” a huge log that is almost 10 feet across at its base.

I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, but some of the sweeping views felt like we were getting close. In fact, the Painted Desert is a part of the Colorado Plateau, which includes nine National Parks—Arches, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Bryce Canyon, Canyonlands, Capitol Reef, Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde, Petrified Forest and Zion—and 18 National Monuments.

The park is open every day of the year except Christmas, and Arizona doesn’t observe Daylight Saving Time so it’s on Mountain time all year round. It is mostly dry in the desert, of course, but I was shocked to learn that the Petrified Forest has a monsoon season and it even snows in the winter. It was bright, clear, hot and extremely windy when we went in June—so windy in fact that our map blew out of our car and I had to chase it across the plain.

Petrified Forest National Park is the only national park to once have claimed a section of Route 66, which bisected the park until it was decommissioned in 1985 (Interstate 40 took its place). The park has preserved a small grassy section of the Mother Road, marked with a rusty car and a line of small, wooden telephone poles.

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Petrified Forest National Park
The park stretches north and south between Interstate 40 and Highway 180.
There are two entrances into the park.

Meteor City Trading Post

Along Route 66, In between Flagstaff and Winslow, Arizona and after Twin Arrows and Two Guns is another abandoned trading post, Meteor City. Meteor City, named after the nearby Meteor Barringer Crater, has been a stop along the Mother Road since it first opened as a Texaco gas station in 1938. The original geodesic dome was built in 1979 and the post was once home to the nation’s largest dream catcher and a 100-foot map of Route 66.

I was frequently pulling over on our trip to photograph weathered and decaying billboards, but the three leading the way to Meteor City were some of my favorites. Meteor City—more than any of the other trading posts that we visited—made me wish that I could go back in time and see it during its glory days. The dream catcher is in tatters, the map is long gone and the name is barely visible underneath a load of uninspired graffiti.  

In 1990, the original Meteor City dome burned down and was replaced by the structure that stands today. It was then briefly shut down in 2001 and new owners painted over the map of Route 66 in the early 2000s. The trading post was put up for sale for $150,000, but no buyers were found. In 2012, like so many other once-thriving businesses along Route 66, Meteor City was abandoned. 

In March of 2017, Joann and Mike Brown purchased the property and began the slow process of cleaning up and protecting the site from vandals with the hopes of eventually revitalizing and reopening the post. We didn't see much evidence of Meteor City coming back to life when we visited in June, but I'm glad that such an iconic piece of Route 66 history has been saved from demolition, at least for now. 

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Meteor City Trading Post
40440 Interstate 40 Wb
Winslow, AZ 86047

Jack Rabbit Trading Post

Most of the trading posts that we explored on our trip along Route 66 in Arizona and New Mexico have been abandoned for many years. I had been aware of the bight yellow "Here It Is" sign for the Jack Rabbit trading post, but I didn't know until we arrived that the trading post is still very much in business. 

The Jack Rabbit Trading Post was built by James Taylor (not the famous one) along Route 66 in 1949. Along with the owner of the For Men Only store, Taylor drove up Route 66 as far as Springfield, Missouri, erecting billboards on the way featuring hopping rabbits and dancing cowgirls. For more than 1,000 miles, travelers were urged to stop at the Jack Rabbit and the For Men Only store, with the billboards culminating with the iconic “Here It Is” sign (much like my very favorite roadside attraction, South of the Border, with its best billboard proclaiming "Where the Hell is South of the Border?"). 

Most of the other billboards are gone now, but the Here It Is sign remains. The sign still comprises most of the original boards from 1949, and each side is repainted every few years (a recent restoration took 27 days). A version of the Jack Rabbit Trading Post was featured in Disney-Pixar’s Cars in 2006, and Henry's Rabbit Ranch in Staunton, Illinois uses a similar rabbit logo with the tagline, "Hare It Is."

Taylor leased the trading post to Glen Blansett in 1961, and Blansett passed it on to his son and daughter-in-law. They eventually sold it to their daughter and son-in-law, Cynthia and Antonio Jaquez, who still operate the Jack Rabbit today. After a while most of the trading posts begin to blend together—we saw enough moccasins and petrified wood to last us a lifetime—but each of us managed to find several things at the Jack Rabbit that we couldn't live without.

The Jack Rabbit isn't as large or flashy as some of the other trading posts you'll come across, but it was definitely my favorite of all the ones that we stopped into (the ones still in business, anyway). I love the Jack Rabbit logo so much that I bought postcards, a pennant, a pin and a t-shirt and I've regretted not buying a mug every single day since.

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Jack Rabbit Trading Post
3386 Route 66
Winslow, Arizona, 86047

Two Guns

I had already been planning a road trip out west when Kaylah and Jeff invited me to their wedding. They got married at the ghost town, Two Guns, which was conveniently already on my road trip list (thanks to Kaylah, of course). After the short ceremony, JMP and I stuck around to explore the ruins and I can definitively say that it was the best wedding I have ever been to (and I don't see how any future weddings can possibly compete). 

Two Guns is located 30 miles east of Flagstaff, Arizona on the rim of Canyon Diablo. In 1878, it was the site of a mass murder when Apaches hid from their Navajo enemies inside of a cave on the site—a fire was lit at the cave's entrance and 42 people were asphyxiated inside. This cave, now called the Apache Death Cave, is still accessible by a rickety ladder but we were totally fine admiring it from above ground (and via Kaylah's badass wedding photos). The Canyon Diablo Bridge opened in 1915 and was used until 1938; in 1988 it was added to the National Register of Historic Places.

In 1922, Earle and Louise Cundiff purchased the land and built a store, restaurant, and gas station. Three years later, Harry Miller leased the property from the Cundiffs and added a zoo, gift shop and post office, and began offering tours of the cave. In 1926, the highway that passed by Two Guns was renamed Route 66, and Miller shot and killed Cundiff during an argument (although Cundiff was unarmed, Miller was acquitted). 

In the late '60s a motel, tavern, new zoo exhibits, Shell service station and a KOA campground were added to the site. The service station burned in 1971 and the site has sat abandoned ever since. My favorite part of Two Guns was the kidney-shaped swimming pool, which is now covered in colorful graffiti.  

Two Guns is a great place to explore (or attend a wedding at) because you can travel through time via the ruins of all of its past lives. There are rumors that the site also contains buried treasure and more than one dead body, and the only person we saw while we were exploring was a (live) man slowly passing over the desert landscape with a metal detector.

Wigwam Village No. 6

I don't remember exactly when I discovered the Wigwam Villages, but I do remember that I was living in Ohio. I was living a life that was feeling less and less like my own, and I became fixated on the villages. I craved the freedom, joy and whimsy that they represented, but actually staying in one seemed unlikely. A road trip or flight required money, time and a willing companion, and at the time it felt as if I had none of those things. It seems silly and overdramatic to me now that I ever felt that way, but I've realized that when you're miserable in your daily life even the smallest goals can seem out of reach.

Fast-forward a few years and in 2016, I flew back to Ohio to hit the road with my friend JMP, a trip that culminated with a stay at my first Wigwam Village in Cave City, Kentucky. Of the seven original villages, only three remain (Cave City is number two). Even after sleeping in my first Wigwam, the other two still felt impossibly out of reach. But then my friend Jim moved to California, and I immediately began planning our stay at no. 7 in Rialto in December of last year. That left only one Wigwam Village—no. 6 in Holbrook, Arizona. 

JMP and I were already talking about an Arizona/New Mexico road trip earlier this year when Kaylah and Jeff graciously invited us to their wedding at Two Guns, which is less than an hour west of Wigwam Village no. 6. Just a few years ago staying at any of the Wigwam Villages seemed impossible to me—and in just two years I've managed to stay in all three.

My vacation goals (like South of the Border) might seem trivial now that I'm at the age when my Instagram feed is full of people traveling the world (or getting married, having kids, buying houses, etc.), but I try very hard to recognize and celebrate what will bring me the most joy, not what will be impressive to other people.

Arizona motel owner, Chester Lewis, visited Frank A. Redford's original Wigwam Village in Cave City, and bought the rights to his design. He also purchased the rights to use the name "Wigwam Village,"—as payment, Redford received every dime inserted into the coin-operated radios that Lewis placed in every room.

No. 6 was built in 1950, seven blocks west of downtown Holbrook, on old Route 66. The motel closed when Route 66 was bypassed in the late '70s, but remained in operation as a gas station. After Lewis died, his widow and children reopened the motel in 1988. The village has 15 wigwams (numbered 1-16 with no number 13), each containing one or two beds, a small bathroom, a TV and an air conditioner. 

No. 6 sits on a desolate stretch of old Route 66 filled with abandoned motels and restaurants. It's a testament to the owners and the design of the Wigwam Villages that it has remained in business. It's been listed on the National Register of Historic Places since 2002 and I can't think of one reason why you wouldn't want to Sleep in a Wigwam—or Sleepee in a Tee-pee, which is more accurate, but they're called wigwams because Redford, who patented the design in 1935, disliked the word 'teepee.'

If you've seen a photo taken at a Wigwam Village, chances are it was of no. 6. A distinguishing feature of this village is the parking lot, which is the permanent home to several vintage cars, including a Studebaker that once belonged to Lewis. There is still room to park your (probably) ugly, modern car, but the cars from the '30s-'70s really make you feel, even if just for a moment, like you've stepped back in time into the glory days of Route 66. 

There's always a mixture of excitement and sadness when I visit a place that I've been dreaming of, and that was definitely true when I completed my Holy Trinity of Wigwam Villages. To borrow from Joni Mitchell, although my "dreams have lost some grandeur coming true," I'm hopeful that there will be "new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty, before the last revolving year is through."

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Wigwam Village No. 6
811 W Hopi Drive,
Holbrook, AZ 86025

Twin Arrows

The Canyon Padre Trading Post was built in the 1940s on Route 66, but the name was changed to Twin Arrows after the construction of two, 25-foot wooden arrows on the property. Business picked up after the arrows began directing motorists to the gas station, diner and gift shop. Like so many other Route 66 businesses, Twin Arrows suffered after the construction of I-40, and it closed for good in 1995. 

The trading post is located between Flagstaff and Winslow, Arizona, on land owned by the five-year-old Twin Arrows Navajo Casino and Resort. We actually stayed at the resort the night before we attended Kaylah and Jeff's wedding, which took place at the nearby ghost town, Two Guns. In 2009, the arrows—made in part from telephone poles—were restored through a collaborative effort by members of the Hopi tribe and Route 66 enthusiasts, but the rest of the buildings have been left to crumble. 

I've seen fairly recent photos of Twin Arrows and it seems to be going downhill rather quickly. Some of the graffiti is thoughtful (or funny, like "Nothing Else Mattress") but other pieces are just unnecessarily destructive. I especially wish that the beautiful dimensional "Twin Arrows Trading Post" lettering hadn't been partially tagged over, and I would give anything to have visited this incredible little diner in its glory days. 

Twin Arrows was our first of many abandoned (or still-operating) trading posts that we visited on this trip, but it's probably my favorite. It had been on my list but I somehow forgot about it until we were magnetically pulled off the road by the two huge arrows, like so many Route 66 travelers before us.

Abandoned Diner

One of the things I love most about living in New York is that I never have to drive a car—but one of the things I love most about road trips is that I do get to drive, which means I have complete control over where and how many times we stop along the way. On our recent trip out west, I had wrested the wheel away from JMP (she caught on to me immediately but graciously allowed me to assume the reigns for most of the trip) and pulled off the highway to photograph some decaying billboards. As I was about to pull back onto the main road, I noticed a sign for the Pancake House Restaurant, and decided that it at least looked worthy of a quick photo.

When we pulled into the parking lot, it was immediately clear that the restaurant was not open and hadn't been for some time. The Pancake House was once part of the Fort Courage trading post, which was built to resemble a frontier fort and inspired by the 1960s show F-Troop. The trading post also included a gas station and a souvenir shop.

The entire trading post is for sale, but something tells me there hasn't been much interest. The trading post closed for good in 2014, but from the presence of Christmas decorations and a calendar on the wall, it appears that the Pancake House Restaurant closed sometime around November of 2005. There is also a Taco Bell Express sign on the outside of the building, but the inside looks as if it was operating as "Ortega's Tacos" before it closed.

The vinyl booths and kitschy light fixtures are still intact, and the inside is in surprisingly good condition for a building that has sat abandoned for thirteen years. There wasn't much left in the kitchen, but we did find some dishes, coffee pots, cups, fake plants and flower arrangements. The circular building with triangular details is beautiful on its own, and it's sad to see it just crumble. 

There was very little graffiti or overt vandalism, and much of the damage seems to have just happened passively. We did find piles and piles of poop and then I nearly stepped on what I assume to be the origin of these piles—the flattened skeleton of what I thought was a coyote but was probably just a regular dog. 

I didn't think there was anything better than diner breakfast at a classic diner, but we both agreed that exploring a surprise abandoned diner in the desert off of Route 66 was the highlight of our trip. I can research and make plans and Google maps, but sometimes you just need to pull off the road and have faith that the road trip gods will deliver you something unexpectedly perfect. 

Muffler Man: Flagstaff Bunyan

Everyone that agrees to go on a road trip planned by me knows by now that if there's a Muffler Man within a reasonable radius, we'll be pulling over. Just a few hours after visiting Don Parks and his yard of stuff—including his own Muffler Man—Jean-Marie and I stopped at the Northern Arizona University campus to meet my 18th (!?) fiberglass giant. 

I think I do extensive research before I leave for any trip, but I inevitably either forget a lot of details before we see the thing or I discover something new about a place we visited only after I get back home. The thing I might actually like most about writing this blog (aka my second job that pays me no actual money) is that it gives me the opportunity to research the places I've been. I've always been someone who loves spoilers—who reads a review only after I've seen the movie—and I love immersing myself in information about places after I've had my own experiences with them. 

Imagine my delight when I discovered as I was researching this particular Muffler Man, that he was actually the very first Muffler Man ever created. This 20-foot-tall Paul Bunyan statue was created in 1962 by Bob Prewitt, whose California business, Fiberglass Animals, made a lot of the roadside animals that can still be found around the country. He received an order for the statue, but when the buyer backed out, Prewitt took his Bunyan on a little road trip along Route 66. He was able to sell the statue to the Lumberjack Cafe, where it stood until the '70s when the restaurant was sold and renamed. 

Now the Bunyan and his axe stand outside of the J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome (home of the Lumberjacks) and he was looking very fresh when we visited. This particular Muffler Man is built as one piece, while later versions were made of four pieces, bolted together. There is actually another nearly-identical Bunyan statue—also from the Lumberjack cafe—at NAU, but he's located inside of the stadium which was closed when we visited. 

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J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome
1705 S San Francisco Street
Flagstaff, AZ 86001

Lumberjack Cafe postcard via Flickr

I hope you've noticed the new navigation at the top of the site—you can see all of my Muffler Man posts now under the "Roadside" dropdown or by clicking the "Muffler Man" tag below.

Muffler Man: Don Parks

Our second stop on our recent trip out West (after fueling up at a soda fountain) was Don Parks's house. We don't know Don Parks, and we didn't meet him, but his yard in Phoenix is full of fiberglass statues, road signs and other kitschy collectables. Parks, a Vietnam Vet, began collecting treasures in the late '60s, after he bought his first house. 

His first acquisition—and in my opinion, his best— was the Paul Bunyan Muffler Man. He purchased the 23-foot-tall giant from a San Francisco gas station, and later sold it to a shoe store in the '80s. When the shoe store went out of business, the Bunyan moved to a lumber company, which also eventually closed. Parks bought the Bunyan back, but in the process his right eye was damaged by a shotgun blast. 

Parks will reportedly give tours if you call in advance, but you can see most of his collection from the sidewalk. He finds treasures at auctions, swap meets, garage sales and thrift stores. When a local amusement park closed down, he was able to purchase several mannequins, statues, bumper cars and bits and pieces of other rides and attractions. 

Parks's collection grew so large that in 2012, when the house across the street was in foreclosure, he purchased it and began filling its yard with stuff as well. He claims that the neighbors (almost) never complain about his collection—everything technically qualifies as lawn art and therefore doesn't violate city code. 

Don Parks is literally living my Pee-Wee's Big Adventure-inspired dream life with his whimsical collection, and I couldn't love people like him more. Life is painfully short and can be full of disappointments and dark days—but imagine driving through a boring residential street and coming across a yard like Don Parks's and not smiling, if only for a second. 

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Don Parks 
8009 West Weldon Ave
Phoenix, AZ