Places hxcmomma Wants to Go

Costumed elves and mountain bikers co-exist peacefully at this abandoned Christmas-themed adventure park.

This strangely vacant Western amusement seems to be an empty tribute to residents of Lucerne Valley.

Built in the early 70s, the ruins of dinosaurs are all that remains of a man’s dream to build a free dinosaur themed mini golf course

Hundreds of trees made from glass bottles make up this forest on Route 66.

Finale of "William Tell Overture" can be heard as drivers pass over grooves in the road.

It should come as no surprise that the world's largest artichoke lies in the town that calls itself the "Artichoke Center of the World."

Once America’s most beautiful army base, this abandoned military fort on the coast of Monterey Bay has been left to the elements.

340 bicycles, 65 feet high.

The fossilized remains of ancient California redwoods.

A huge work of Burning Man-inspired outsider art on the grounds of a California winery.

California's own medieval Italian castle, authentic down to the 300-year-old iron maiden in the dungeon.

The haunting ruins of Jack London's dream house.

Nursery with extensive collection of flesh-eating plants operated by the author of "The Savage Garden."

Aqueducts have dramatically changed this old lake, now home to tufa towers and its very own species of tiny brine shrimp.

Deep vertical fissures like miniature slot canyons cut across the cemented volcanic rock of Black Point above Mono Lake.

A volcanic cone that formed over 600 years ago.

A cozy bookstore is tucked within an old gold mine shaft beneath the cafe and ice cream shop.

Eons old volcanic activity created one of the most stunning rock formations in the United States.

The Zalud family experienced a number of tragedies in one decade, giving rise to rumors that the 19th century house is haunted.

Under the right circumstances, this waterfall in Yosemite briefly turns a luminescent fiery orange.

Quite simply the largest tree in the world (by volume).

These millipedes glow not out of attraction, but as a not-too-subtle warning.

Bring your own cardboard to the slippery slopes of concrete hidden in a neighborhood park.

This iconic L.A. bookshop is housed in an abandoned bank—both symbolic and chic.