Dinosaur World's Mike Segers leads the way through the attraction's statue-lined walkways. Passing one of the attraction's rootbeer-color ponds, Segers mentions that a mutant amphibian — a five-legged frog — has taken up residence among the fish. "Amphibians are dying out," he says. "We're unfortunately on the cutting edge of extinction here at Dinosaur World."
He's right. In 1998, the same year Dinosaur World opened, a University of Tennessee ecologist told the Washington Post, "The speed at which species are being lost is much faster than any we've seen in the past — including those (extinctions) related to meteor collisions."
Well, at least the mutant frog is surrounded by compadres who can relate to its fate. This former alligator farm cum another roadside attraction is stocked with more than 100 large-as-life effigies of dinosaurs that once roamed the earth.
(Ever notice how dinosaurs are always described as having "roamed the earth"? Why is that? Perhaps they were trying to outrun the earth-meteor collision that would kill them. But, seeing as how that fender bender happened 65-million years ago, and there's no one left behind to ask, we may never know why they roamed. They just did.)
The dinosaurs at Dinosaur World do not roam; that's for sure. They stand, like sentries for the centuries, or hang perpetually immobile over ponds. Molded in Sweden, the statues are shipped over in pieces to be assembled and painted at the park. Constructed of Styrofoam, aluminum and fiberglass, these dinosaurs have surprisingly little heft, and many are anchored to keep from being blown over or whisked away by some 10-year-old going through the obligatory dinosaur-obsession phase. Dinosaurs are everywhere here, with 60 to 70 more of them due in when Phase II opens this summer.
In addition to speaking to the prehistoric past, Dino World also speaks to Florida's past — the disappearing species known as the highway tourist trap. Bigger has always been better in Florida, and Dinosaur World touts itself as "The World's Largest Dinosaur Attraction."
Surrounded by 70 species of native and exotic palms, ferns, bromeliads, cypress and other plant life, the lifelike dinosaurs seem at home in this subtropical wood.
The carnotaurus, whose very name implies meat and carnage, is one ferocious facsimile. With a huge, bullish head and a horn from hell over each eye, it glares from bushes across the water as though we're its next meal.
Segers tells this story of the sculpture: A teacher leading a school group came in one day, and the teacher took one look at the carnotaurus and said, "Ah, so this is where my ex-wife is."
The next day a female teacher came in and said, "What is my ex-husband doing here?" Wouldn't it be something if the jocular educators had been married to each other?
Given the strange dinosaur fixation that hits kids so hard, Dinosaur World is a natural destination for families traveling through Central Florida.
"I like to come out here in the early morning," Segers says, gesturing around the primordial setting, "and with the fog, it's like, "Did he move?'"
Dinosaur World is at 5145 Harvey Tew Road in Plant City, adjacent to I-4 at exit 10. Admission is $9.75 for adults, $7.75 for children 3-12. Call 813-717-9865, or visit the Web site at www.dinoworld.net.
This article appears in May 17-24, 2001.