Places Noble Keyser Wants to Go

The only geyser in the state of Pennsylvania is caused by pressure from an abandoned coal mine outside of the ghost town Centralia.

In a dry, neglected cemetery lies the unassuming grave of a soldier vilified in life but celebrated in death.

The humble gravesite of the man who failed to cash in on his Pepsi-cola goldmine.

The time thousands of bags of chips washed ashore in the Outer Banks is memorialized in a local museum.

The Cadillac Ranch for monster truck aficionados.

The 15-foot-wide, 2-ton pan fries hundreds of chickens once a year.

A piece of outsider public art accompanied by a strange urban legend.

A former Oz-themed attraction that has fallen into disrepair, but still holds some of the original magic.

The final resting place of American icon Buffalo Bill, and a museum that aids in telling his tale.

This campus chapel is Robert E. Lee's final resting place and a topic of debate about the legacy of the Civil War.

This tiny chapel next to a highway provides weary travelers a place to rest, pray, or maybe even get married.

This humble resting place belongs to one of history's most celebrated restaurateurs.

Home to an endangered salamander, a full moon celebration, and a large spring-fed outdoor swimming pool.

One man's unrequited love stands in a glass box forever.

This icon of the Atomic Age now lays dormant.

This mysterious twin turboprop Grumman G-159 covered in graffiti has spent a decade and a half abandoned.

This "zoo" is a cross between a junkyard and a sculpture garden, featuring animals you won't see anywhere else.

A monument to the egos of two railroad magnates that fell into decline along with their careers.

Water flowed out of the town's unusual tree stump fountain in the 1930s, and the well still runs today.

Here lies Lilly E. Gray, an alleged "victim of the beast," but the reason long remained a mystery.

Visitors to this library are in for a real-world education in modernist architecture.

Pyramid home to an obscure religious group that practices modern mummification.

This giant ice cream cone is the last remaining icon of a Salt Lake City staple.

Where unreadable addresses are read, 24 hours a day, seven days a week.