These WWII-era murals were initially booed as a libelous portrayal of the American dream but have survived multiple attempts to have them destroyed.

This crumbling Death Valley mining complex was known for its use of giant, 20-mule team wagons.

A remote crossroads honoring a fallen talent.

A second generation sun-powered marvel lights up the night.

This centerpiece of the Hollywood & Highland shopping center is a recreation of a long-lost movie set.

A massive hydrovolcanic explosion left a half-mile wide crater in Death Valley.

One of the oldest producers of hand-folded fortune cookies still uses its original secret recipe.

The classic Atari game's iconic aliens have invaded downtown San Diego.

Like a kitschy mirage in the Mojave, this eatery serves up classic 50s-style diner meals and a dinosaur sculpture garden.

This one-block alleyway is stuffed with street art that is colorful, cultural, and intensely political.

This giant temperature attraction created some giant electric bills.

L. Frank Baum wrote part of the "Wizard of Oz" series in this wooden Victorian beach resort.

Swarms of butterflies cannot compare to the awe inspired by the publicly-funded nakedness once displayed in this sunken garden.

Honoring the famed folktale author, this California museum looks like it belongs in the Black Forest.

A three-story, three-dimensional hobo clown in a tutu welcomes CVS shoppers.

Finally the worlds of UFO enthusiasts and beef jerky lovers have come together in this roadside shop.

The rusting remains of the largest assembled WWII fleet on the West Coast.

An abandoned Jazz Age dream home and con man's hideout in Death Valley.

Get up close to emus and ostriches, or buy their tasty meat.

Millions of years of oxidation make a drive down this winding Death Valley road surprisingly colorful.

The abandoned train depot now doubles as a well-placed rest stop for those who take the road less traveled.

Since 1973, this block has been home to the most concentrated collection of murals in San Francisco.

"Only the devil could play golf here."

A sign at the end of the Santa Monica Pier marks the traditional end of the legendary American highway.