Places toothbat Wants to Go

Post office plaque commemorates local resistance to a cult invasion.

Entering this curiosity shop is like stepping into a mad scientist's lab.

Tens of thousands of tiny birds swarm into one school chimney every fall.

This perfectly preserved Chinese medicine shop was untouched for decades before being reopened as a museum.

This strange hill on Old Fort Road where gravity works in reverse has been fascinating locals for years.

A haunted hot springs hotel that went from healing retreat to asylum before it was restored.

100-year-old shipwreck you can walk up to at low tide.

The lush coastal city of Astoria is riddled with forgotten secret sidewalks.

This lake in the Cascades lives up to its name, disappearing down a hole every spring.

The stone-covered graves lie within the ruins of an Old West ghost town.

This remote desert watering hole has a connection to a curious chapter of American history.

A former department store turned into a quirky restaurant.

This abandoned bootleg attraction was built to cash in on the popularity of classic TV show, F Troop.

The remains of this rugged homestead ranch offer a brief glimpse into a bygone era.

For those going through a life transition, a place to leave behind a piece of your former self.

This old selenite mine is dotted with tiny crystals that make it shimmer like it's covered in glitter.

A once popular resort—said to be the vacation spot of gangster Al Capone—now remains abandoned in the woods of Arizona.

Come for the pizza, stay for a performance on the world's largest theater pipe organ.

Hidden inside this Arizona fast food franchise is an in-depth exhibit on the famed WWII counterintelligence program.

Founded by members of the Tohono O’odham Nation, this one-room joint's James Beard–winning fry bread is light as a cloud.

A mysterious "wedding cake" castle in the middle of the urban desert.

A mysterious spirit totem at the edge of Navajo lands.

Once the product of an inexplicable gold strike, this ghost town is now home to one man and his love of classic machines.

Open since 1938, this diner has kept its fountain, malt machine, and all the gum that greasers left beneath its counter.