Cadillac Ranch: More Than a Roadside Attraction

By Gerri Almand

Just when you think you’ve seen it all, a mindboggling apparition appears on your horizon. For me, it was Cadillac Ranch, sitting in the middle of a flat, lonely cow field in northwestern Texas. There are many whimsical, funky roadside attractions along Route 66, but Cadillac Ranch is definitely a favorite.

My internet research found conflicting information about Cadillac Ranch’s origins. Some sources give credit to three artists from a hippie architectural practice in California called The Ant Farm—Chip Lord, Doug Michels, and Hudson Marquez. These informers report the artists designed the project and approached eccentric Texas artist, businessman, and philanthropist, Stanley Marsh 3 (1938–2014) for financing. Other sources credit Marsh as the mastermind of the idea and indicate he contacted the hippies to erect this tribute to his favorite classic car—the Cadillac.

Intended as an homage to the Cadillac’s tail fins, the Ant Farm artists collected ten junked-out cars built between 1949 and 1963 and buried them in chronological order, nose down, in a field along the original Route 66. They completed the project in 1974. In 1997, as construction of Interstate 40 destroyed parts of Route 66 and often deviated from the original highway, Marsh ordered the cars relocated to its current site about two miles south of I-40 and five miles west of Amarillo.

The site became a mecca, and travelers from all over the world now come to regard the bizarre display that has tickled so many chakras. Over time, visitors stole every removable part to take home as souvenirs, including the revered tail fins. By the time my husband and I first saw the exhibit, only battered, stripped-down Cadillac shells remained, and these husks changed daily as visitors swarmed with cans of spray paint to leave their marks.

We first visited Cadillac Ranch in November 2016. After parking along a narrow road, we joined the line of folks waiting to enter the pasture. The atmosphere felt party-like. As we passed through the open gate, we noted the subtle humor of a No Trespassing sign and a padlock on the fence … not on the gate.

Despite howling winds and temperatures in the low fifties, we lingered in that desolate site for more than an hour. It seemed like everyone did. We walked around and between cars, studied details, and tried to decipher scrawled names and messages. Not even the noxious paint fumes made us rush. The experience felt sacred—almost religious.

Over time, the cars have been periodically repainted. Once, Marsh had them painted white for a television commercial. Another time, they were painted pink in honor of his wife’s birthday. When one of The Ant Farm artists died, the cars ended up flat black to express mourning. In 2012, painters covered the cars in rainbow colors to celebrate Pride. At one point, as part of a Route 66 restoration project, the Hampton Inn motel chain restored the Cadillacs to their original colors. In 2020, activists painted the cars solid black, with the words “Black Lives Matter,” to protest police brutality and George Floyd’s murder. With every change, the new colors last only a few hours before visitors arrive with paint. Cadillac Ranch is a living, interactive art form, constantly reinvented by visitors who leave a different shrine than the one they found.

During our first viewing, we didn’t know we could leave graffiti. We wanted to return, and considered doing so as we passed through Amarillo in 2019. However, recent rains and reports that we’d sink ankle-deep in muck kept us away. We saw Cadillac Ranch again in 2020 during sweltering ninetydegree temperatures in late May. Although we knew to bring paint this time, we didn’t bother. As we expected, a couple of visitors handed us spray paint cans on their way out, and we dutifully left our marks. It felt right to have successfully completed the pilgrimage.

The Cadillacs have now been buried in the ground longer than they were on the road. I want to believe they’ll be there forever, inspiring visitors to consider alternative ways of viewing art and perhaps even shaking loose creativity in the minds of the beholders. But if not, I’m comforted to think they’ll perhaps trigger the imaginations of us lucky ones who have seen them.

Not only did Stanley Marsh 3 face sexual assault allegations before his death in 2014, but many people also viewed his artworks as eyesores with little to no artistic value. Marsh’s response to the critique? “Art is a legalized form of insanity, and I do it very well.” He reportedly loved those nose-buried Cadillacs, feeling the graffiti gave them a patina, like Chinese vases that increase in value with every new crack.

If you visit Cadillac Ranch, you’ll see a different roadside attraction than the ones I saw. Yours will have a shinier patina, I’m sure. ■

About the Author

Gerri Almand found her voice in humorous travel writing when her husband insisted they buy an RV and travel the country. The Reluctant RV Wife, Home Is Where the RV Is, and Running from COVID in our RV Cocoon chronicle her transformation from initial RV reluctance to an ecstatic embrace of full-time nomadism. Learn more at gerrialmand.com.