A Brachiosaurus head pokes through the trees above a tall fence off the side of U.S. 101. A giant Tyrannosaurus rex seems to wave, teeth bared, at cars driving along the southern Oregon coast.
America is long past its peak interest in roadside attractions, leaving many to fade or else close up shop. The Oregon Vortex feels a little old-fashioned. The Petersen Rock Garden might not last. The Peace Candle of the World has neither real flame nor real wax anymore.
Prehistoric Gardens feels different.
Situated on the side of the Oregon Coast Highway, Prehistoric Gardens opened in 1955 as a self-guided tour through a coastal rainforest setting, gravel paths winding by nearly two dozen life-size replicas of dinosaurs.
I stopped by first thing on a weekday morning in January, when the early sun began to thaw the night's chill. Owner Kiki McGrath showed up just after 10 to let me in. I forked over $12 for admission and got a paper map in exchange.
"Have fun," McGrath said. "And follow the arrows. You don't want to go backwards."
The first creature to greet me was a 46-foot-high, 86-foot-long, 50-ton Brachiosaurus. It towered over the fence of the park, peering out into the distance. A childlike wonder rose swiftly in my chest. I stared up in awe, the theme from "Jurassic Park" playing in the back of my mind.
From there the dinos get smaller, but so much more colorful and wondrous as you go.
There's a mean-looking Stegosaurus, striped with yellow and blue lines, like tribal paint down its body. A floundering blue Ichthyosaur is beached on the muddy creekside. A fearsome Elasmosaurus bares a mouthful of teeth, stretching its long neck over the trail.
The dinosaurs all come courtesy of the late Ernie Nelson - McGrath's grandfather - who gave up a successful logging supply company in 1952 to work full-time on building life-size concrete dinosaurs.
"Friends thought I had gone completely berserk," Nelson told The Oregonian in 1972. "I guess it was sort of a crazy idea, but it worked out fine."
Nelson, who died in 1999, spent his time visiting natural history museums around the country, sketching dinosaur skeletons and talking to paleontologists to ensure accurate replicas. In his first two years he created five dinosaurs, averaging one a year after that. Today there are 23 dinosaurs in all.
Prehistoric Gardens feels greater than a common attraction, and certainly better than a dreaded "tourist trap." There's no hype, no catch, no letdown. You get what you came for - giant dinosaur statues - and walk away with a little something more.
One stretch of trail early on walks through a lesson in prehistoric evolution. Big signs talk about the first life to develop on Earth, going into detail on the evolution of various plant species as you go. The dinosaur sculptures also come with accompanying signs, explaining the origin or behavior of each.
The biology lesson is simple enough to take in quickly, but thorough enough to feel like a real education. That makes it ideal for kids and adults alike - the more excitement about dinosaurs the better.
Nelson opened Prehistoric Gardens out of his own lifelong love for prehistoric creatures. Growing up on a Minnesota farm, he spent his days reading "National Geographic" and drawing dinosaurs. Opening the park was the fulfillment of his boyhood dream, he said, and he continued to run the park until his death at 91.
As far as roadside attractions go, Prehistoric Gardens is holding up well. It's not as big a money maker as it once was, and convincing younger generations to keep it running is a challenge. McGrath volunteered to keep the business going when Nelson died, but beyond her stewardship there's no one else in line.
That's not uncommon with businesses like these. Douglas Kirby, author of two books on roadside attractions, told Fox Business' "Strange Inheritance" (which recently did an episode on Prehistoric Gardens) that a lot of places like these have shut down in recent years.
"A lot of those great parks were also the vision of a single person, and you could feel their enthusiasm in everything," he said. "But by the third generation, there's nobody to carry them on, and all of a sudden they're gone."
Like the prehistoric creatures that roam its forest, the days of Prehistoric Gardens may be numbered. But how long the attraction will evade extinction has yet to be seen. Until that day comes, it will be there, drawing curious visitors into the garden of the dinosaurs.
--Jamie Hale | jhale@oregonian.com | @HaleJamesB
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