A still functioning vaudeville carousel that has operated for over a century boasts a colorful menagerie and past.

The most beautiful Taco Bell in the world even has surfboard parking.

This museum explores the history of the book, from scrolls to mass-produced objects through tools, stories, and massive cast-iron binding machinery (some of it operational).

Neither Spanish settlers nor anyone since has been able to tell who built these strange California rock walls.

These subterranean storage areas hold emergency water reserves.

Appropriation-friendly collection of books, periodicals, and more.

The newsstand that never closes its doors—well, almost never.

The original place where water met land in the City by the Bay is outlined in brass.

A decommissioned Naval base now rents itself out for people who want to blow stuff up.

A vast city of the dead, where the deceased outnumber the living by more than a million.

This odd little museum holds exhibits on everything from blacksmith equipment to hair jewelry.

After serving in World War II and picking up Apollo astronauts, this aircraft carrier has been turned into a museum overlooking the San Francisco Bay.

The graffiti-covered remnants of a former triangulation station are balanced precariously on this California peak.

Playable, historic pinball machines fill this Alameda museum.

A lonely monument to the original Silicon Valley tech campus.

Another of California's unused Cold War missile defense complexes has become a graffiti gallery.

A unique piece of graffiti offers a little slice of local history and mystery.

A large instrument played by the wind.

This 252 step staircase offers stunning views of San Jose.

For roadside fast food, pull over at the giant orange.

Historical trolley restoration and operation at History San Jose, Kelly Park.

A statue commemorate Tommie Smith and John Carlos's brave protest at the 1968 Olympics, a watershed moment for civil rights.

Anyone can control this glittery light installation with just a phone call.

Three plaques mark the spot where the "forgotten father of broadcasting" worked.