
Fantastical
Step right up to Fantastical, where Erie’s roadside wonders take center stage. From giant fiberglass beasts to gravity-defying oddities, this page is a love letter to the city’s enduring flair for the eccentric. These attractions—some kitschy, some uncanny, all unforgettable—dot the map like breadcrumbs from a dream. Whether you’re chasing nostalgia or stumbling into the surreal, Fantastical invites you to explore the strange landmarks that have made Erie a destination for the delightfully weird.
Schaefer's Auto Art
3705 Hershey Rd
Schaefer’s Auto Art is Erie’s most delightfully offbeat roadside attraction—a scrapyard dreamworld where rust becomes whimsy and wreckage turns into wonder.
Created by local artist Dick Schaefer beginning in 1988, this open-air gallery on Hershey Road showcases towering sculptures made entirely from salvaged car parts and industrial castoffs. A giant VW Beetle spider, a two-headed dinosaur with spark plug teeth, and a 40-foot rocket built from Oldsmobile engines and truck leaf springs are just a few of the fantastical creatures that greet visitors. Each piece is a testament to Schaefer’s inventive spirit and his ability to transform the discarded into the unforgettable.
What makes Schaefer’s Auto Art truly Weird Erie is its blend of humor, craftsmanship, and roadside Americana. It’s free to visit, tucked into a quiet suburban lawn, and constantly evolving—new sculptures appear, old ones shift, and every visit offers something unexpected. Visitors are encouraged to leave a note in the “Buzz Box,” a mailbox nestled among the metal menagerie, adding their own voice to this living archive of Erie eccentricity.
Whether you’re drawn by curiosity, nostalgia, or the sheer joy of seeing a bumblebee made from a car grill, Schaefer’s Auto Art is a must-see for anyone exploring the stranger corners of Erie County.









Prehistoric Statue Garden
Bartlett Road, Harborcreek
🦕 Just off Bartlett Road in Harborcreek, where the trees lean in like curious onlookers, a prehistoric parade stands frozen in fiberglass wonder. Towering dinosaurs—weathered, whimsical, and wildly out of place—peer through the brush as if guarding a forgotten portal to Erie’s eccentric soul. These roadside sentinels, equal parts kitsch and mystery, have become local lore: no signage, no explanation, just Jurassic giants quietly watching the seasons change. In true Weird Erie fashion, they raise more questions than answers—and that’s exactly why we love them.
The Wacky Shack
Waldameer Park
HELLO EARTHLINGS! Waldameer’s Whacky Shack is a haunted slice of amusement history—designed by a man whose spooky genius still echoes through its creaky corridors.
Built in 1970 by legendary dark ride designer Bill Tracy, the Whacky Shack is Erie’s own funhouse of fluorescent frights and kooky illusions. Tracy, once a Macy’s float designer and circus art director, turned his flair for the theatrical into eerie ride architecture—crafting over 50 dark rides in his career, each packed with gags, groans, and glowing ghouls. But here’s the twist: Waldameer’s Whacky Shack is the last of its kind still operating, a rare survivor in a world where most of Tracy’s creations have vanished into the fog. Inside, riders twist through shark-infested bridges, black-lit skeletons, and a heartbeat-pulsing descent that feels like a B-movie dreamscape. It’s campy, creepy, and beloved by dark ride enthusiasts who treat it like a sacred relic of roadside horror.
Ahoy, Weird Erie! Pirates Cove at Waldameer isn’t just a funhouse—it’s a rare, walk-through relic of haunted hilarity, crafted by one of the most eccentric minds in amusement history.
🏴☠️ Built in 1972 by legendary dark ride designer Bill Tracy, Pirates Cove is one of only three surviving walk-through funhouses of its kind in the country. Tracy, known for his flair for spooky theatrics and surreal stunts, filled this Erie treasure with tilted rooms, barrel mazes, and pirate figures that glow under blacklight like ghostly buccaneers mid-plunder. His company, Amusement Display Associates, shipped these prefab funhouses across the U.S., but most have vanished—making Waldameer’s Cove a sacred site for dark ride enthusiasts and roadside oddity hunters alike.
Inside, it’s a fever dream of crooked corridors and strobe-lit surprises. You’ll stumble through rooms where water flows uphill, skeletons leer from corners, and gravity seems to take a vacation. It’s campy, creepy, and completely immersive—a walk-through that feels like falling into a haunted comic book drawn by a pirate with a flair for the absurd.
Tracy’s legacy lives on in every squeaky floorboard and flickering lantern. For fans of vintage amusement architecture, Pirates Cove is a must-see before it joins the ghost fleet of forgotten funhouses.
Waldameer Park
Pirates Cove
Labyrinth at Frontier Park
Nestled in a quiet meadow at Frontier Park, Erie’s labyrinth is a meditative spiral of stone and grass—part art installation, part spiritual journey, and wholly unexpected.
Gifted to the community in 2005 by the Carrie T. Watson Garden Club to mark its 80th anniversary, the labyrinth was designed as a space for reflection, wellness, and connection to nature. Measuring 60 feet in diameter and composed of 660 white concrete pavers, it winds through nine circuits, inviting visitors to walk slowly, breathe deeply, and let go of the noise of daily life. Unlike a maze, a labyrinth has no tricks or dead ends—just a single, winding path to the center and back out again, symbolizing the twists and turns of life.
Set apart from the playgrounds and soccer fields, the labyrinth is surrounded by trees cared for by LEAF (Lake Erie Arboretum at Frontier), making it a serene escape in the heart of the city. Whether you’re seeking peace, clarity, or just a moment to pause, the labyrinth offers a gentle invitation: walk, reflect, return. It’s one of Weird Erie’s quietest wonders—where the strange magic lies not in spectacle, but in stillness.




Park Dinor
Lawrence Park
☕ Curved like a railcar and gleaming with mid-century charm, Park Dinor in Lawrence Park is more than a place to grab breakfast—it’s a living artifact of Erie’s industrial heartbeat. Built in 1948 by Silk City Diners and shipped from Paterson, New Jersey, this porcelain-enamel beauty is one of the few intact prefabricated dinors left in Pennsylvania—and the only one listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Its monitor roof, fluted steel banding, and vaulted ceiling whisper of a time when form met function in roadside architecture. For decades, workers from the nearby GE plant shuffled in for quick meals and warm coffee, their boots marking the tiled floor with stories of shiftwork and camaraderie. Today, Park Dinor still hums with that legacy—serving scrapple, stories, and slices of nostalgia in true Weird Erie fashion.
Sara’s Restaurant
Presque Isle
🍔 Where the pavement ends and the beach begins, Sara’s stands like a neon mirage of Americana—equal parts roadside retro and lakeside legend. With its checkerboard booths, orange swirl cones, and hot dogs that taste like summer vacation, this Presque Isle gateway is more than a pit stop—it’s a pilgrimage. Bikers, beachgoers, and birdwatchers all converge here, drawn by the siren song of curly fries and the scent of sunscreen. It’s loud, it’s lovable, and it’s just weird enough to feel like home.
Eternal Vigilance
411 State St
Eternal Vigilance is one of Erie’s most haunting landmarks—a bronze sentinel curled in anguish at the foot of the Erie Art Museum, watching and waiting with eyes that never close.
Created in 1978 by Erie-born artist John Silk Deckard, the sculpture captures what he called “a heroic, self-clutching figure”—a moment of tortured humanity frozen in 500 pounds of cast bronze. Deckard, known for exploring themes of alienation, sacrifice, and powerlessness, used the ancient lost-wax casting method to shape this larger-than-life form, with exaggerated hands and feet and a face contorted in silent despair. The result is unsettling yet magnetic: a figure that feels both deeply personal and eerily universal.
Its fetal posture and raw emotion evoke vulnerability, but its scale and permanence suggest something more mythic—a warning, a witness, a relic of inner struggle. For decades, Eternal Vigilance has stood as a kind of spiritual gatekeeper to the museum, iconic in its discomfort and revered by those drawn to Erie’s darker, more introspective corners. It doesn’t just ask to be seen—it demands to be felt.
Fruits of Labor
A horse made of scrap metal pulls the weight of the world—literally—at the corner of East 13th and Holland in Erie, where past and present collide in a sculpture that’s as heavy with symbolism as it is with steel.
🐎 “Fruits of Labor,” a towering 10-by-20-foot public artwork, anchors the city’s eastside with a surreal tribute to Erie’s transformation from farmland to factory floor. Created in 2016 by artists Ron Bayuzick, Tom Ferraro, Ed Grout, and students from the Erie County Technical School, the piece features a massive globe being dragged by a horse forged from recycled industrial scrap. It’s the second installment in Erie Arts & Culture’s “Arts and Industry” series, and it stands on the very ground where a factory once churned out bedsprings and rat traps.
The sculpture’s message is layered: a nod to the grit of Erie’s laborers, a meditation on the burden of progress, and a celebration of the city’s industrial roots. The horse—crafted from castoff parts of local manufacturing plants—embodies the muscle behind Erie’s rise, while the globe hints at the global reach of its industry. It’s a piece that doesn’t just sit pretty; it pulls you in, asking you to consider what we’ve built, what we’ve lost, and what we carry forward.
1305 Holland St
Seeding Community
East 19th and French St
At the corner of East 19th and French, a giant metal seed sprouts from the sidewalk—an industrial bloom born from bicycle parts and community dreams.
🌱 “Seeding Community” is more than a sculpture—it’s a symbol of regeneration, collaboration, and the strange beauty of Erie’s urban landscape. Created in 2021 by artists Fredy Huaman Mallqui, Steve Mik, and Eric Brozell through Erie Arts & Culture’s “Creating with Community” initiative, this 15-foot-wide piece was forged from recycled bike rims, metal posts, and salvaged signage. Perched on a hill frequented by neighbors, basketball players, and passersby, the sculpture invites interaction and interpretation—its form echoing both a literal seed and a figurative call to action.
The artists, each with distinct specialties—sculpture, mural work, and cycling advocacy—joined forces to reimagine the 19th Street corridor as a space where nature and city life intertwine. With help from the Sisters of St. Joseph Neighborhood Network, Bike Erie, and city engineers, the seed was “planted” in its final home, a reclaimed patch of public space that now pulses with creative energy. It’s quirky, quiet, and deeply rooted in Erie’s spirit of transformation—just the kind of oddity Weird Erie loves to celebrate.
Lincoln Recycling Sculpture
West 16th and Industrial Dr
At the corner of West 16th and Industrial Drive, a retired fire truck has been reborn as Erie’s most eccentric scrapyard sentinel—half emergency vehicle, half industrial folk art fever dream.
🚒 Parked proudly outside Lincoln Recycling, this patchwork beast of rust and whimsy is a rolling collage of metal signs, gears, pipes, and salvaged oddities. Its cab still bears the ghostly lettering of the City of Erie, but the flatbed has gone full steampunk—festooned with bicycle wheels, weight limit warnings, and scrollwork that feels like it was welded by a mad inventor with a poetic streak. It’s part sculpture, part roadside riddle, and all Weird Erie: a tribute to the beauty of reuse, the charm of chaos, and the stories that scrap can tell when given a second life.