Places megabucan Wants to Go

This garden is dedicated to a Portland cartoonist who specialized in dark humor.

These machines have been collecting dust for decades.

Instead of fruit, the branches of this tree are brimming with hopes and dreams.

This public art piece proves that in Portland even reporting the weather is a thing of whimsy.

Gigantic private toy museum featuring among finest collections of antique mechanical banks in existence.

Statues of Ramona Quimby, Henry Huggins, and Ribsy the dog in the park where their adventures "really happened."

A sculpture of a salmon swimming through a brick building.

This stoic, if derpy, giant stands as a monument to Oregon's statehood and the novelty culture of yesteryear.

Their motto is, "We've been bonkers for hats even longer than you have!"

The world's smallest park was dedicated in 1948 as the only colony for leprechauns west of Ireland.

Not-so-fearsome tiny trolls live under this wooden train trestle in Portland.

Featuring a casually threatening atmosphere along with dessert and coffee to die for.

A beautiful 62-acre Catholic shrine and botanical garden.

The seamy, underground secrets of Portland's criminal past.

This unassuming retro burger joint was billed as “diner of the future” at the 1939 World's Fair.

A playground inspired by differential calculus dangles from the ceiling of the Liberty Science Center.

Now abandoned, the first public health hospital in the U.S. saw more than one million immigrants from around the world.

Vacant Beaux-Arts buildings that serve as reminders of a beach town’s glory days.

A reservoir of vintage pinball machines and arcade games for the nostalgic and thrill seeking.

A storefront museum in Asbury Park honoring the Jersey Shore’s deep history of mystery—including the Jersey Devil.

A piece of the iconic wall found an unlikely new home in a Vegas bathroom.

This institution collects the history of burlesque dancing with a titillating collection of ephemera and pasties.

The best Tiki bar in Las Vegas.

Dyed by iron oxide over centuries, these sandstone rocks rise thousands of feet into the sky.