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Roadside Marvels:
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Sneakers only, please,
on this tree in East Amherst, New York
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Shoe
TreesIcons of the American Road
We aren't sure, but it's
beginning to look impossible to take an American road trip
without passing a shoe tree. Our first sighting was the
spreading tamarisk on California
Highway 62, a footwear display supplied by those who
use the road to get to the Colorado River from Los Angeles.
At the time, we thought the
phenomenon was something unique, but that was before
pictures and reports started coming our way, educating us
that shoe trees grace roadsides in Oregon, New York, and
an apparently increasing number of spots in between.
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Route 66 cousin: Shoe Tree in
Oklahoma photographed in January, 2004 by Jennifer
Bremer
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Nevada is home to a stately
cottonwood near the town of Middlegate on US Highway
50, "the loneliest highway in America." Since
it's the only tree of any size for miles around, perhaps
its decorations are not surprising. Look for a shoe tree
on US Highway 395 south of Lakeview, Oregon, and save some
Keds if you're heading for East Amherst, near Buffalo, New
York. The shoe tree there appears to allow offerings of
sneakers only.
Highway 187 outside Beaver,
Arkansas, boasted another specialty shoe tree until
the heavy rainstorms of May 6, 2000, came along. The deluge
knocked down a seventy-year-old white oak heavily laden
with running shoes. Fortunately, other trees in the vicinity
have started sporting footwear in the old oak's memory,
and styles have expanded to include boots and fashion shoes.
It might be possible to extract
deep cultural meaning from shoe trees. Maybe all those
swaying sneakers have spiritual significance, like Nepalese
prayer flags. We don't believe it, though. Our theory is
that shoe trees are a challenge. Once you see a pair of
shoes dangling from a tall branch, it's hard not to grab
your own pair, tie them together, and aim higher. And if
you're somewhere like "the loneliest highway in America,"
there's no one around to call you silly.
There's also no one around
to accuse you of littering, which brings us to more
profound questions. Are shoes trees art? Are old shoes litter
if they don't hit the ground? Ponder all this on your next
road trip, and -- in case you decide to become part of a
roadside phenomenon -- take an extra pair of shoes.
Megan
Edwards
July
31, 2005