Deep in the back roads of Virginia, there exists a place, unbound by the laws of time and nature. That place… is Dinosaur Land.

Dinosaur Land is one of those roadside tourist traps. Except that I traveled there specifically. It was a destination, rather than a whimsical spontaneity.

As a kid, I definitely went through a dinosaur phase. I could name so many dinosaurs. I watched all the documentaries. I had dinosaur toys, plush animals, books, and a deep and abiding love for the Power Rangers.

My favorite dinosaur was the Pterodactyl. Because it was a dinosaur AND it could fly. Unlike all of those land and water jerks. Pterodactyls were like the unicorn-pegasus creatures of the dinosaur world.

(Before we go any further, I feel I should inform you that a portion of this blog was drafted after imbibing some ginger moonshine. Ginger moonshine, you say? That is a blog post for another day.)

If you go into Dinosaur Land expecting fine artwork and an elaborate and historical set-up, you will be disappointed. If you go into Dinosaur Land expecting weird, old statues of dinosaurs–and other unexpected creatures like human-sized cobras and bear-sloths–that you can laugh at and take pictures with, then you are golden, my friend. Go forth.