Places Anthony Settipani Wants to Go

Underneath downtown Lincoln resides a network of caves that was also the city's first brewery.

Known as "The Hill of the Little Devils."

A striking sculpture built to honor the women of the Lakota and Dakota Nations.

A butcher shop in Minneapolis has all the meats and cheeses you’d expect from any of its kind—except that all the products are vegan.

One of the world's premier laboratories for hydraulic engineering research takes full advantage of the water's power.

A hidden oasis in the heart of Minneapolis is also an Important Bird Area.

20,000 pieces in a Frank Gehry-designed building.

A Norwegian church that was built before Wisconsin was even a state has been entirely moved to a nicer spot.

Home to the Amorphophallus titanum "Corpse Flower," which is among the largest flowers in the world and also smells powerfully of rotting flesh when in bloom.

This bright yellow building is packed with sweet treats from all around the world, from chocolate-covered crickets to whoopie pies.

After four years of grasshopper plagues, this chapel was erected as a plea to God to make them end.

Summer in the "Turtle Racing Capital of the World" means rousing weekly reptile races.

A futuristic climate change study is nestled deep within this public land.

Wondrous sandstone hoodoos where Native Americans collected clay for pottery, 9,000 years ago.

The site of a defunct mill, that once supplied marble for the construction of the Lincoln Memorial.

A coal fire has been burning underground here since 1896.

This interpretive path lets you get up close and personal with dinosaur bones.

This 19th-century ranch is being transformed into a residential library with thousands of books about the natural world.

The giant stump of the once towering cottonwood where Ute people held tribal meetings.

A river runs through this remote valley in a very unexpected way.

The remains of a World War II-era Japanese American internment camp dot a windswept Colorado hill.

A prehistoric rock shelter that's literally in someone's backyard.

These decaying bridges 1,000 feet high are a reminder of the skill it took to cross the Colorado Rockies by rail.

A seven-story 1920s mausoleum outside Denver houses thousands of remains.