It sounds fake. Like something from a Looney Tunes cartoon or a conspiracy video you’d find on YouTube at 2 a.m. But it’s true: in the 1920s, the United States really did build a highway in the sky using 70-foot-long concrete arrows. Scattered across empty deserts, mountain ridges, and farmland, these massive markers were meant to guide mail pilots flying at night, because back then there were no instruments to help you.
Airmail by Guts and Luck
In the early days of aviation, flying was more gamble than science. Planes had open cockpits, unreliable engines, and barely any instruments. Most pilots navigated by landmarks. Towns, rivers, and railroads were the only guides visible from the sky, and when it got dark, you were flying blind.
In 1918, the U.S. Post Office launched its airmail service. It was bold, fast, and absolutely terrifying. The first routes connected New York to Washington, D.C., and later expanded westward. But pilots often got lost or crashed, especially in bad weather or at night. The solution needed to be simple, cheap, and reliable. So someone had an idea that feels both genius and deeply weird: arrows. Giant arrows.
Highway in the Sky
Each arrow was about 70 feet long and made of concrete. They were painted bright yellow so they could be seen from thousands of feet up. Each arrow pointed toward the next, forming a breadcrumb trail across the entire country. Alongside them, the government built beacon towers, 51-foot steel structures with rotating gas-powered lights that could be seen for ten miles.
These towers weren’t random. They had numbers and codes. Every ten miles or so, you’d find a tower and arrow. Each one was staffed and maintained by a beacon keeper, who lived nearby, kept the gas generator running, and made sure the light didn’t go out.
At its peak, this system stretched from coast to coast. Pilots flying from New York to San Francisco could literally follow arrows across the sky, hopping from one beacon to the next.
Life on the Line
Being a beacon keeper offered little glamour. Most stations stood in isolated areas such as deserts, mountains, and vast empty stretches. Towns were far away, entertainment was nonexistent, and help was out of reach. It was just you, your generator, and the wind.
Some keepers lived in trailers or concrete bunkers, while others built makeshift cabins beside the towers. They had to check the generator, fuel up, maintain the beacon light, and sometimes guide lost pilots during storms. The job didn’t pay much. But for many, it was steady work during hard times.
The System That Almost Changed Everything
By 1926, this web of arrows and lights covered huge sections of the U.S. The Transcontinental Airway System was one of the earliest attempts at national air infrastructure. Over 1,500 arrows and 250 towers were installed.
It worked. Pilots could fly faster and with more confidence, no longer relying on guesswork or dead reckoning. Mail started arriving on time, and for the first time, air travel seemed just a little less suicidal.
People even came out at night to watch the beacon lights sweep across the sky like lighthouses on land. It was a little eerie and a little beautiful. The future was arriving, slowly, one arrow at a time.
Then Came Radar
As navigation technology improved, arrows became less useful. In the 1930s and 40s, pilots began using radio beacons and instruments that didn’t rely on sight. By World War II, the system was nearly obsolete.
Worse, the towers themselves became a liability. During the war, the government dismantled many of them to prevent enemy aircraft from using them for navigation. Others were scrapped for steel.
The arrows, though? Too heavy to move. Too solid to care. They stayed put.
Forgotten Until Reddit Found Them
For decades, the arrows were just… there. Hikers stepped over them. Ranchers built fences around them. Nobody really knew what they were.
Then the internet got curious. Photos started circulating on Reddit and Twitter. “Why are there giant arrows in the middle of the desert?” people asked. Urban explorer blogs picked it up. Drone pilots flew overhead and posted sweeping aerial shots.
Suddenly, this forgotten system of guidance was back in the spotlight. People started mapping surviving arrows. Amateurs drove cross-country to find them. Local historians dug up beacon logs and flight maps.
Not Just a Weird Flex
It’s tempting to laugh at the idea of giant concrete arrows guiding planes. But when you look at them closely, they say something big about the era that built them.
They represent a time when the U.S. was inventing infrastructure out of nothing. Long before satellites, computers, or reliable weather reports, they looked up at the sky and decided to carve a path through it. And somehow, they figured it out.
The arrows are strange, mostly forgotten, but there’s something quietly heroic about them.
The Arrows Are Still Pointing
Today, dozens of arrows still remain. Some are cracked and buried under weeds. Others have been restored and marked with plaques. A few even have local volunteers who keep them clean and visible.
You can still see them from the air. Just like the pilots did 100 years ago.
And if you’re ever hiking in the middle of nowhere and stumble onto one, don’t be surprised if it feels like you’ve stepped into some kind of glitch. Because that’s what the arrows are: leftovers from a time when people thought the future could be built with concrete, fire, and a really good sense of direction.
