Places Loops Wants to Go

A seemingly endless landscape of pure salt stretches far across Bolivia.

This stone complex marks the urban center of a lost civilization.

A nondescript building is home to a one-room museum filled with an overwhelming array of art and objects.

Lady Liberty's first beacon of enlightenment is now displayed in a museum near the statue.

There’s a secret bunker inside the Brooklyn Bridge, but the city won’t say where.

An extraordinary collection of vampire-themed antiques lurks on the second floor of a store.

The headquarters of the Fraternitas Rosae Crucis, complete with Rosicrucian pyramids, all in the Pennsylvania woods.

A tragic mystery left this boy nameless for 65 years.

A museum of anything and everything Stooge.

Delicate Wurlitzers, creepy clowns, and The Noid all share space in this insane explosion of kitsch history.

An eccentric priest's tribute to George Washington, this chapel tells the story of the American Revolution.

A modern ghost town whose inhabitants were driven away by the growth of nuclear power.

This little-known Revolutionary War fort is supposedly haunted by the ghosts of its past.

Contrary to popular belief, this secluded statue doesn't represent Pennsylvania's founder.

This huge, disused viaduct is now a crumbling concrete underworld of covered in years of graffiti.

One of the U.S. Forest Service's only mansions is outfitted with a dinner table for floating food.

The highest point in New Jersey is marked by a massive, if simply named, obelisk.

This alley in downtown Chicago held the bodies of over 600 people after the fateful Iroquois Theatre fire.

A 19th-century Gothic, castle-like statehouse by the Mississippi River.

One of the longest water bridges in the world was built over a supposedly haunted swamp in Louisiana.

This relatively recently abandoned brewery is a tragic reminder of the continuing effects of Hurricane Katrina.

The crumbling remains of a 19th century fortess.

Storyville was New Orleans' historic red light district and hotbed of jazz music, sometimes referred to simply as "The District."

A haunting, yet lovingly hand-hewn potters' field full of graves that flood with each heavy rain.