Like, perhaps, the right arm of John the Baptist in Siena Italy?

I've got a long list along these lines....

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"It's our blood and bones and these whistles and phones against Miller's and Noem's dirty lies."

https://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/2220

Sophomore year, my two roommates and I decided that for fall break, we’re just going to drive west and see how far we could go. My parents okayed us driving their Chrysler New Yorker and gave me a credit card “just in case.”

The route we decided on took us through South Dakota. A friend of ours was from Mitchell, SD and told us we should stop in and her Mom would feed us. She was going to be in NYC with other ND friends. Everything was going great driving through SD when the car started overheating and shut down. We pull over and one of my one roommates walked to the next exit to call a tow truck. (I don’t recall how long it took him or how long we waited.)

Turns out the closest town was Mitchell, SD. The tow truck takes us there. We don’t know our friend’s phone number or address, but we look in the phone book. Thankfully, there were only three “Murrays.” So we start calling and asking if they had a daughter with the name of our friend. I think it was the first number, but her dad answered, She clearly hadn’t communicated (with him, at least) that we would be passing through, but we explained that we new her, she had told us to look them up, and that our car had broken down and we were in Mitchell, SD. We needed a place to stay. Could we stay with them?

I think he was hesitant, but he came and picked us up. Her parents were very friendly and hospitable. They fed us and let us stay. Her dad knew people at the dealership. It was a blown head gasket that normally would have taken a couple days to repair. At his request, they prioritized it and got us back on the road the next afternoon. While we waited, we toured Mitchell and the Corn Palace. Also, It’s a good thing I had my parents’ credit card to pay for the repair.

We stayed that night out in the open, tossing our sleeping bags on the ground. Pure freedom!

The next day, we stopped at Wall Drug. I wanted to buy some cowboy boots and what else were we going to do anyway. I went to pay for the boots with a check. They said they’d need to see a credit card or some other assurance to accept a personal check. I asked if my parents’ was okay and they said it would be. When I went to get it out of my wallet, I couldn’t find it. They let me buy the boots, but it wasn’t in the car either.

So I called the mechanic in Mitchell. Sure enough. I’d left it there. They had it and agreed to keep it until we came back through on our way back. We made it to the Black Hills, saw Mt. Rushmore, and turned around. Good on their word, the mechanic had the credit card when we swung through Mitchell again.

I think I waited five or six years before telling my parents I left their credit card in Mitchell, SD and didn’t realize until a day (and a couple hundred miles) later that I didn’t have it.

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Grade F: Stores that are about themselves, e.g., Bucky's or Wall Drug. Not even going through the motions of offering you an attraction of any kind, it's just calculated manipulation. Fuck these places.

https://bluegraysky.com/forum/index.php?id=580701

https://bluegraysky.com/forum/index.php?id=580713

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at the Lodge Cast Iron Museum in South Pittsburg, TN

https://www.lodgecastiron.com/pages/museum?srsltid=AfmBOorxT7dkmHFksyzG9LIUw_JWNnbAx8QC...

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It was one of the stops on our honeymoon, I have photos but the ones on the internet are much better.

Yes, it's a big 80 room house on top of a sandstone rock and the rooms are full of all kinds of weird collections of . . . stuff. I don't know how else to describe it. One room has (they claim) the World's Largest Indoor Carousel. Another room has a big collection of player pianos, and they all work. Yeah, stuff like that.

The billboards and puns are better than the actual experience of what amounts to just a store. But if you know what you’re going to get when you pull off the freeway, it’s worth the stop.

The reviews on Yelp or Google are also pretty amusing, especially the ones from people who offered some review based on legitimate standards.

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At night, the ice weasels come.

We visited our first one north of Denver on a road trip last summer and liked it so much we went back the next day.

In the vein of those Gila Bend dinos you mentioned, Borrego Springs has some really cool metal sculptures out in the desert.

On our last ski trip to Mammoth, we stopped at the site of the original McDonald's in San Bernardino, which has been turned into a kitschy museum.

https://decoymuseum.com/

a 1950s-era Mexican-themed truck stop/tchotchke emporium/novelty adventure park on the south side of the Carolinas border along interstate 95. Imagine crumbling googie architecture with a healthy dollop of cringey stereotyping. Various bits of the rotting complex are still open.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_of_the_Border_(attraction)

My family used to have a grading system for roadside attractions that went something like:

Grade A: Top national parks, famous places (e.g., The Vegas Strip, The Louvre, Westminster Abbey) or Disneyworld-type destinations. These are the reasons people go places.

Grade B: Good state parks, (quality) amusement parks, fun cities (e.g., Asheville or Memphis). Not "destination"-level places, per se, but worthy of weekend trips.

Grade C: Kitchy, themed attractions of some interest and a modicum of capital investment--at least at one point. Roadside zoos, alpine coasters, "Drive through a tree!" forests, big, but not huge waterfalls, etc. (e.g, Carhenge, Wisconsin Dells pyramid waterskiing ladies, all the shit in Gatlinburg and Pidgeon Forge). Often drawn by the economy of nearby Grade A attractions.

Grade D: Assorted grotty, poorly-financed hangers-on scrounging on the outskirts of more legitimate attractions. Tchotchke-peddling, old timey "General Stores," vertigo houses, Stan Pines-level mystery spots, dilapidated putt putt courses with crumbling concrete or fiberglass statuary. Pathetic places functioning as shitty alternatives for poor families. ("Why pay park prices?! Buy your (generic, off brand) Disney attire here!")

Grade F: Stores that are about themselves, e.g., Bucky's or Wall Drug. Not even going through the motions of offering you an attraction of any kind, it's just calculated manipulation. Fuck these places.

Didn’t go in, but bought a signed copy of one of the founders’ comic books about Dinosaurs and the Civil War at the gift shop. If you’ve had an enough bourbon it can be interesting read. It explains how dinosaurs came to be involved in the Civil War, which involves Stonehedge for some reason. And how Stonewall Jackson is saved from death and gets a bionic arm to fight the dinosaurs which the Yankees have enslaved because they are hypocritical on the whole slavery thing. There are also cavemen and slime people (maybe they’re not quite “people”), and a two headed hillbilly born on the Mason-Dixon Line. The Yankees also have a Bigfoot on their side for some reason. It was the weirdest thing I’d read since Finnegan’s Wake.