A long-awaited visit to the helium capital of the world

Almost two weeks ago, my friend and I went on a day trip to Amarillo. We had been planning it for a while because we wanted to go look around, and because I wanted to see Cadillac Ranch. We planned to go several times, but finally set the day for July 25, a day which is auspicious for so many reasons, not the least being that it was a Saturday. As we were searching the web for things to do or see, I came across a reference to a work of art by Robert Smithson, creator of Spiral Jetty. This was another work of earth art called Amarillo Ramp. I discovered that it was on private property and so I went about trying to contact somebody who might be able to give us permission to see it.

I finally found an email address, to which I sent an email asking for information on visiting the ramp. I got back a reply full of questions about my age, education, etc. I answered it to the best of my ability and was surprised to get another asking for my phone number. Finally, I realized that the person who was emailing me was not a secretary or an employee of the owner of the land, but the owner himself. I gave him my number and had a call from him shortly. I was taken aback by his insistence that I had done everything all wrong. He was gracious enough, however, to have one of his employees drive us out to look at the ramp.

Interlude: Amarillo is a very unique city for West Texas because of the man with whom I had just spoken. Artworks both sublime and ridiculous abound throughout the city, many of them directly due to his patronage. He hires what seems to be an innumerable and shifting group of young would-be artists and uses them as errand boys while providing them with studio space.

Returning to our story, I was able to talk with the artist assigned to show us around and set up a time to meet. He was introduced as LBK. I learned that LBK stands for "Long Board Kid" because he used to ride around the city on a longboard. Now he rides around in a big white truck with stripes painted on. After he whipped crazily around the parking lot several times, he stopped, introduced himself and his friends, and ushered us into the back seat of the truck. Everything was grimy and covered in trash. A BB gun was also in attendance. Only one seat belt buckle worked, so we had to improvise. As we started driving, we were blasted with music so foul and profane that I actually started physically shaking. I quickly asked them to turn it down so I could "ask them about Amarillo." It only worked if I kept them talking. Otherwise, up went the volume.

One of the first things we saw was one of Stanley Marsh's (the rich old guy I talked to on the phone) famous joke roadsigns. Then we were taken to the millionaire's home, Toad Hall, were me met his very kind and gracious wife, Wendy. 3 other visitors were also there, and we all had to introduce ourselves and sit down to refreshments and light conversation. I found Wendy to be one of the most surprising and delightful parts of our trip. She instructed our guides on the best sights to show us and sent them on their way. We first saw some large, stuffed vinyl letters, chained to a fence. ART. Then we were whisked into our striped trucks for a drive through the Toad Hall grounds to see Actual Size. Two pictures of the same spot so all can glimpse our guide, LBK.

I realize now that I've spent a lot of text on the trip and haven't even moved on to the ramp. I guess I'll save that for another day. After we saw Actual Size we went to the "sign farm" where old joke signs are placed when they've been replaced or the landowners don't want them. I liked the signs but took no pictures. Then we headed to the ramp, so tune in next time!

In closing, I'd just like to say that I really, really enjoy the episode of Scientific American Frontiers on the Fremont indians.