For 30 years, Steve Springer taught English at a middle school around the corner from his house.

And when he retired, he was faced with the question that a lot of new retirees grapple with.

What now?

Steve had known that he wanted to be a teacher since the second grade, and he missed working with kids.

Then, a year into his retirement, there was construction on his street, and a portion of his front yard got torn up.

Steve saw it as an opportunity.

He decided to transform his front yard into a park of sorts. He spent three months

collecting and placing figurines, unicorn here, a yeti there, gradually building up his collection.

But then, he made a pivotal choice. He added a dinosaur.

He was a bronosaurus, he was bright blue, and his name was Boris.

And Steve's yard would never be the same again.

I'm Johanna Mayer, and this is Atlas Obscura, a celebration of the world strange,

incredible, and wondrous places.

The roadside dinosaur has been a key piece of Americana since the 30s, and we've got

theme parks and Sinclair gas station mascots as a result.

So today, Place's editor Diana Hubble and I

head to two spots on opposite end of the United States

to ask one question.

Why is there a dinosaur here?

That's after this.

Until Boris showed up, Steve Springer's house is pretty normal.

It's on a residential street in Henderson, Nevada,

...