Places Jason Michael Walker Wants to Go

This lone survivor of a regional franchise still slings delicious burgers and colossal servings of fries.

17,400 lbs., 12 feet in diameter, and 29 years in the making.

Find out what it sounds like when doves cry at Prince's recording studio estate turned museum.

These curious caverns have been home to mushrooms, gangsters, and disco.

This statue of Olympic hockey coach Herb Brooks immortalizes one of the greatest moments in American sports history.

The literary king of the Jazz Age was born in this lovely Minnesota home which still honors his legacy.

The home where a lovestruck Fitzgerald wrote his first published novel, "This Side of Paradise."

Vice President Humphrey's final resting place is tucked away in this cemetery along with a few other notable figures.

After the musical legend's death, his memorial was mysteriously graffitied in gold.

Giant six-pack could provide one person a six-pack a day for 3,351 years.

This cave holds a surprisingly colorful variety of geological oddities.

The birthplace of a titan of American cinema.

Once a speakeasy operated by Al Capone, this Milwaukee cigar bar is now a haven for ghost hunters.

A giant, Gilded Age mansion that once belonged to the beer baron of Milwaukee.

What's left of the ruins of the 1893 Columbian Exhibition, or World's Fair, also known as the White City.

A chance to follow in the footsteps of the word's most legendary animator.

The site of the first couple's first kiss is commemorated by the most adorable presidential monument ever.

A strange rock in Chicago marks the spot where a tree once stood in honor of the 18th President.

A giant bronze coil of feces is both a tribute to doggie defecation and a reminder to pick it up.

Four glass boxes hover over 1,000 feet in the air to give visitors an unparalleled view of Chicago.

The longest escalator in the Western Hemisphere takes over three minutes to ride down.

Franciscan monks created a facsimile of the Holy Land for North Americans who couldn’t afford the trip overseas.

A painfully obvious spy house sits right across the street from the Russian Embassy.

When it comes to handsignals (and colonialism) rock always beats scissors.