Places Stefan Kowasch Wants to Go

The deepest lake in the United States, and once the site of epic destruction that lives on in legends.

The one-stop shop for all of your superhero (or evil arch-nemesis) needs.

An emporium for the weird, creepy, rare, and just plain gross.

A museum dedicated to the history and exploration of both popular music and science fiction.

This New Orleans tree is filled with hidden chimes that produce a carefully tuned melody.

Hellam Township is reputed to feature seven remote gates, which when passed through in the right order, open an entrance to hell.

This shop for all your super spy needs hides an educational secret.

Here, at the “world’s longest art gallery,” you’ll find forty miles of ancient petroglyphs and pictographs.

Continuing the tradition of the dime museum in style.

Get lost in this haunting fairytale art walk through a man-made eucalyptus grove.

This historical swimming pool near Miami is emptied and refilled each day with naturally filtered water.

The ancient dwellings of the Puebloans, located in the cliffs of majestic mesas.

A 200-year-old bar in the historic French Quarter refuses to give up its place in history, nor its role in securing ours.

A 100-year-old purveyor of curiosities, curios, and kitsch featuring mummies, shrunken heads, and a Fiji Mermaid.

A one-of-a-kind collection of a unique medium.

America's most famous piece of self-built architecture.

A miniature rainforest is growing inside of a Midtown Manhattan office building.

Crystal clear lake with a shoreline of travertine located in a Colorado canyon.

The oldest family-run luncheonette in New York, last renovated in 1948, still serves food and drinks the old-fashioned way.

A bizarre house filled with an astounding array of collections.

This secluded aqua waterfall in the Grand Canyon is the perfect swimming hole, and the Havasupai tribe's fiercely protected natural wonder.

Wondrous sandstone hoodoos where Native Americans collected clay for pottery, 9,000 years ago.

The legendary building that needed ghostly approval before being built.

Remants of foundations, streets, and streetcar tracks inhabit the cliffs where a landslide occurred in 1929.