Places vampybunny Wants to Go

A railroad tunnel that, upon its completion, was considered one of the engineering marvels of the modern world.

A renovated hotel is bringing new life to a nearly-abandoned mining town in Colorado.

This bomb shelter-themed bar has barely changed since it opened.

Originally conceived as part of a proposed Arizona State Capitol building in the 1950s, this structure built in 2004 stands as a monument to the architect's legacy.

The enormous 250-room Vanderbilt mansion conceals hidden doors and secret passageways.

This strange sculpture depicts a giant nightmare hare crushing a man to death beneath its colossal bulk.

Cadillac where country's first big star was found dead.

A rusted metal giant pays tribute to Birmingham’s industrial past.

What else would you call a playground hidden in Alabama's oldest and largest cemetery?

A wealth of local folk art, antiques, and curios, without ever leaving your car.

148 feet long and in the middle of a verdant forest.

The remains of an idyllic small town built for the film 'Big Fish' still stand around a rundown main street.

This family tattoo parlor has been inking religious pilgrims in the Middle East for 700 years.

Various forms of phallic art decorate this hill in commemoration of legendary local tragedy.

These molds for fiberglass statues have formed an eerie, accidental sculpture park.

Water of undetermined depth has attracted rare fish and cult leaders alike.

In a pedestrian tunnel on North Carolina State’s campus resides an expressive and artistic free-for-all.

The Cadillac Ranch for monster truck aficionados.

Beautiful Gothic-inspired lighthouse stands out among the run-of-the-mill striped fare on Bodies Island.

A retired tobacco farmer's pet project turned into a sturdy miniature city.

A piece of outsider public art accompanied by a strange urban legend.

A former Oz-themed attraction that has fallen into disrepair, but still holds some of the original magic.

This road in the Great Smoky Mountains was supposed to assuage a displaced community, but ended up a $52 million dead end.

This woodland architectural installation acts as a camera obscura for the heavens.