Can We Stop?

 My wife and I made a pact before we set out on our road trip. We recalled our youth, and all those miles we sat in the back seat, wishing that we could stop at Stuckey's. Or The World's Largest Ball of Twine. We were told by our respective parents that these were Tourist Traps, and we would not be stopping there. The occasional National Park, but No Tourist Traps.

The pact that my wife and I made was this: We're adults. We have the money and we have the driver's seat. We will be stopping for Tourist Traps. 

We stopped at Confusion Hill. On our way out of the top of California, we pulled over for a quick peek at the home of the Chipalope, a genetic mutation involving an antelope and a chipmunk. Apparently the most confusing part of Confusion Hill is what its main attraction must be, since the World Famous Gravity House seemed to be on a par with the World's Tallest Freestanding Redwood Chainsaw Carving. Or was it the miniature train ride? The restrooms were mostly clean.

A little further up the road and on the following day we felt drawn toward the exit for Trees Of Mystery. This place had enough parking for a state fair, with room left over for Paul Bunyan and his Blue Ox Pal, Babe. The emphasis in this little slice of roadside attraction was on the trees, and not mutated rodents. Nor were there any gravitational anomalies to be found. Walk among the trees. Walk up into the trees. Take a tram up above the trees. Not a mystery, per se. 

As we headed north, we became aware of the number of Sasquatch emporiums that seemed to be linked in mildly direct fashion to cannabis dispensaries. None of them caught our direct attention, but may require further investigation at some other point. 

While staying in Portland, Oregon, some friends suggested we check out the Shanghai Tunnels beneath a pizzeria in Old Town. While not an official roadside diversion, this bump around in the dark proved to be every bit as mysterious as the Chipalope. My wife and I figured we might be able to give a rough simulation of the experience in our own basement with the lights off. There was good pizza at the end, and some spooky pictures. 

On our way home, we made a point to follow a friend's suggestion to check out The Oregon Vortex. A fair piece off the beaten path, this was the place where our senses were put to the test. Could we explain how all the sloppy architecture of The Mystery House made gravity all askew? Not without interrupting our guide's pseudo-scientific explanations. Here we found no giant redwood trees sculpted into rodents with antlers. Just porta-potties and souvenir tie-dye T-shirts. 

Do I feel any poorer for having paid admission to all these points of mild interest? No. My wife and I ended the trip feeling empowered. Or maybe that's just an after-effect of the gravity vortex.