Places shbtlr Wants to Go

"Not too many people can say they've had a nuclear bomb dropped on them, not too many would want to." — Walter Gregg.

The only pachinko parlor in the United States.

I-95's Tijuana-style celebration of kitsch at the Carolina border.

Discovered by a soldier during the Revolutionary War, these springs helped create an iconic South Carolina ginger ale.

One man's extraordinary topiary garden in a small South Carolina town.

The world's largest fire hydrant is supposedly tornado-proof.

This psychedelic tromp l'oeil seems to be beckoning drivers to crash into a wall.

This titanic steel chain linking two buildings was installed without permission but instantly beloved.

A handful of beehive kilns are all that’s left of a historic brick-making empire.

An old train trestle re-imagined as an Egyptian obelisk.

This set of rickety spaceships are prepared to give alien travelers a place to relax and go to the bathroom.

The only free-standing, vertical sundial in the US was keeping standard time before it was even invented.

This natural spring not only claims to heal the wounded but it has also been willed to God.

You’ve heard of bookworms, but this small sculpture at a university library may be the world’s first bookbee.

Once luxurious, these oceanfront beach homes have been left to succumb to the elements as the beach is slowly washed away.

The tale of a strong-willed woman who stood her ground when the commercial world came rumbling in.

Where else would a linchpin of post-colonial Native American cuisine anchor the menu but a museum?

A collection of odd-shaped and quirky sounding instruments handmade by a midcentury inventor-composer.

This quiet neighborhood is also home to a 700-ton rock transported by the last Ice Age.

A historic Masonic building overlooking the Puget Sound.

A normal, unassuming pedestrian overpass has been the demise of many, many trucks.

This Cold War missile launch site has been abandoned for 40 years.

This medieval village/restaurant perpetually celebrates the year 1376.

The tiny church offers succor to travelers driving by, but only eight at a time.