Thousands of turbines whir at at the origin of North American wind power.

Abandoned hotel with adjacent lake and golf course.

The words of the neighborhood's most famous poets adorn four concrete walls.

This quirky UFO-shaped curiosity is often mistaken for the airport’s control tower.

The blinking light atop the iconic landmark has been sending secret messages for decades.

An historic and oft-filmed spot for musclebound iron pumpers on the Pacific coast.

The space-age building is home to one of the few remaining rotating restaurants in America, and the only one that inspired a 1980s sitcom.

A carousel trades in its classic horses and calliope for endangered species, native flora and fauna, and a modern soundtrack.

Once strictly off-limits, this lower level housing curious and priceless vehicles of the Petersen Automotive Museum is now open to the public.

This star-studded Old Hollywood restaurant is where fettuccine Alfredo made its United States debut.

The final resting place of a space program monolith.

Historic funicular railway, believed to be the shortest railroad in the world.

After starting as a whimsical tourist attraction that eventually found its way to ruin, these renovated canals offer a lush and exotic locale on the Pacific Coast.

These delicate buggers are some of the rarest fossils that have bubbled up from the Tar Pits.

World-famous, Pink's still manages to keep its prized cult fetish status.

The private clubhouse for the members of the Academy of Magical Arts.

Hollywood's most famous landmark, the "temporary" sign that has stood for decades longer than intended.

America's most famous piece of self-built architecture.

Resting place of Hollywood's immortals is also site of summer film screenings.

It should come as no surprise that the best view of the Hollywood sign is from Batman's lair.

High on a hill overlooking Los Angeles lives a world famous, high power conical Tesla Coil.

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

The pile of books behind the dignified writer gave the statue a most undignified nickname.

Two stone columns flank the grand Venice square, but there were supposed to be three.