Places positivelypossessed Wants to Go

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

Bring your own cardboard to the slippery slopes of concrete hidden in a neighborhood park.

During prohibition, corrupt city officials ran drinking dens under the streets of Downtown Los Angeles.

A peculiar mansion built by the troubled heir to the Winchester Rifle Company fortune.

Where animatronic singing fish go to retire.

A mysterious light floating in the trees of Arkansas may be a piezoelectric effect.

An ever-growing collection of rare and strange objects owned by local Arkansas illusionist Maxwell Blade.

Opinions differ as to whether this Arizona tree was actually used as a Wild West jail, but that hasn't stopped the town from capitalizing on it.

A wealth of local folk art, antiques, and curios, without ever leaving your car.

Orr Park's dead trees have been carved into a menagerie of whimsical visages.

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

North America's oldest authentic African Village.

Carved faces add a touch of magic to this island's impressive oak trees.

One of the largest-ever mental hospitals now sits abandoned, surrounded by 25,000 unmarked graves.

According to local lore, this narrow passageway through two large rocks was accidentally created by the devil himself.

An unfinished rail tunnel that has since been used to house cheese and bats.

An impressive collection is dedicated to the legendary beast.

The remains of one of America's first radiation testing grounds still rest ominously in a Georgia forest.

The perfectly named cave drop is the deepest in the continental United States, almost matching the height of Seattle’s Space Needle.

Incredible miniature towns and buildings created and decorated with thousands of tiny rocks.

All that remains of this small town is its mass grave and a myth of a voodoo priestess who predicted its demise.

The ruins of a cotton mill that was burned in the Civil War are still hidden in a Georgia forest.

This stone is a marker of one millionaire's personal vendetta against gravity.

This small cemetery is all that remains of Atlanta's first Black communities.