Places JakeIngram Wants to Go

3,200-square-foot mural inside Dartmouth Library depicts the history of America with images of human sacrifice, ancient gods, and other unspeakable terrors.

The summer home and later final residence of acclaimed American sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens.

Row, row, row your pumpkin quickly down the stream.

This small museum is an eccentric shrine to boyhood in the 1960s.

The childhood home of the meat inspector who would become the face of America.

One of the few brewers in the U.S. experimenting with hop-free beers.

Rock face that shares a name with Mary Shelley's famous doctor.

Carved, egg-shaped stone with no explanation.

Known as one of the most climbed mountains in the world, this barren peak is permanently bald thanks to an anti-wolf fire.

Come for the gun-toting hillbilly madman, stay for the ice-cream loving basketball bears.

Maybe the only missile installed in a public park, this Cold War leftover was one of the first to carry a nuclear warhead.

A strange, heartwarming, decades-old declaration of love on a New Hampshire roadside.

Once the future of underwater combat, this old sub is now open for visitors to muck around in.

This historic mini-suspension bridge was swept away once but is now here to stay.

A very big rock just plopped down in the New England woods.

A former zoo turned public park, where visitors can hang out in the old animal cages.

A short nature trail winds through the greatest works of poet Robert Frost.

According to the experts at the Guinness World's Record office, this is the longest candy counter in the world.

Birthplace of America's first documented serial killer.

The highest point in the state of New Hampshire, and while unlikely "the worst weather in the world," it sure seems that way to hikers.

Around 100 sculptures from artists all over the world decorate the hiking trails surrounding this locale.

One New Hampshire alleyway has become home to a public gallery of feline art.

Ruins of the elaborate house where the enigmatic costume designer threw glamorous parties for New York's theatrical elite.

Even Henry David Thoreau found this glacial pothole irresistible.