Places toothbat Wants to Go

The grand, column-fronted, sculpture-adorned home of the ambitious digital library.

This 19th-century church is now a popular roller rink.

This surreptitious shop is only open five hours per week.

This print shop boasts one of the largest pinball arcades in San Francisco.

This turn of the century masterpiece has a mysterious goaty interloper.

Under the shadow of its towering parent tree, a rare specimen of sequoia produces ghostly white leaves.

San Franciscans leave gifts and messages for the magical beings that live behind the tiny, mysterious door installed on a tree in Golden Gate Park.

San Francisco's urban bison herd has persisted in the face of extinction, development, and disease.

The United States' first transcontinental automobile road came to its end at this spot in San Francisco's Lincoln Park.

A ruined hotel with an unlucky history and an eerie present.

The former Naval shipyard is open for exploring - mostly.

A sparse, solitary sequoia still stands as a living tribute to the famous conservationist who planted it—but it's dying.

The fossilized remains of ancient California redwoods.

Climb 200 stairs up the tallest lighthouse on the West Coast for an unbeatable view.

Nursery with extensive collection of flesh-eating plants operated by the author of "The Savage Garden."

A tribute to the life and work of the beloved "Peanuts" cartoonist.

340 bicycles, 65 feet high.

The highest dunes in California are the most likely place in the area to hear the Singing Sands.

This naturally heated mountainous creek has created a group of neon blue pools of potentially deadly boiling water.

This remote camping site offers incredible stargazing opportunities.

More than 21,000 images fill this overlooked gem of a prehistoric site.

Buried beneath the New Mexico sands are believed to be millions of copies of Atari's E.T. video game.

An "anarchical" no man's land, complete with garbage sculptures and a hobo-run "Landfillian Library."

Built from one couple’s vast personal collection, this free museum showcases a century’s worth of state-sponsored agitprop.