Places Jesse Wants to Go

The colorful, smiling concrete silos of Vancouver.

The ruins of a resort and casino sit on the banks of this blue hole spring that pumps 70,000 gallons of warm, clear water every minute.

These picturesque Hawaiian falls are home to a rare species of fish that uses a special sucker to climb up cliffs.

This museum of Hawaiian and Polynesian culture is the legacy of the last descendant of the Kamehameha Dynasty.

Austin’s nonprofit-run graffiti park where street art is meant to be painted over.

Free public park and gardens filled with peacocks and peahens.

Austin’s local mountain isn’t really a mountain at all.

A tiny twin to Seattle's Fremont troll hides from the Florida sun under the Atlantic Boulevard drawbridge.

A French chateau, failed utopian community, odd museum, and Stonehenge replica in rural Washington State.

This charmingly homemade amusement park has been growing for 40 years.

Every year locals tumble 650 feet down to the bottom of the hill chasing a Double Gloucester cheese.

This limestone outcropping was once a ceremonial site for ancient Native Americans.

This conservation area is also home to many of the region's desert tortoises.

Home to the deepest rift anywhere on Earth.

"the sweltering inhabitants of Charleston and New Orleans, of Madras and Bombay and Calcutta, drink at my well . . . The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges."

Visitors to this shop will find fossils, minerals, meteorites, skeletons, oddities, and much more.

A trail weaves through the verses of a poem illustrated by stone sculptures inspired by Native American pictographs.

A technicolor place of worship for Elevationists.

This modern monument to pagan belief looks like it was transported straight from ancient times.

This red-eyed chrome beast pays homage to the popular modern myth of West Virginia's insectoid monster.

A small storefront museum explores the history and myth of West Virginia's famous urban legend.

Monument to the cotton-destroying boll weevil.

This large Sitka spruce that appears to be floating in mid-air, has defied logic for years.

A tiny red pebble marks what may be the quietest outdoor spot in the United States.