Why walk on this historical site when you can zoom down instead?

A volcanic tunnel illuminated by natural skylights offers a shaded respite from the desert sun.

Over 100 million years ago, beach-bound dinosaurs left permanent marks on San Antonio's landscape.

Singing sand that stands as the final remains of an ancient lake.

This small museum gives visitors a chance to soak up the history of the "sponge capital of the world."

One of the earliest bowling lanes in the U.S. doubled as a sewing school during a time when women had little job opportunity.

A lawn full of retired spacecraft on display at one of NASA's first research labs.

It was founded by Ralph Nader to educate the public about an often-maligned area of law.

The two-cell building in Nebraska was briefly owned by a teenage boy and then a Hollywood dummy.

Sunset-colored dunes of volcanic ash make taking a poor photo impossible.

A creepy sculpture of a decapitated head invites viewers to see St. Louis through its empty eyes.

The Forest Service's surprisingly sophisticated collection of wildfire prevention art features America's most beloved bear.

Dozens of lights dangle from the branches of what may be the brightest tree in Los Angeles.

Travelers leave tea kettles in a remote part of Death Valley as part of a mysterious, decades-old tradition.

An easy-to-miss plaque marks the building that first held this 19th-century telephone innovation.

A tiny theater hidden in an alley plays a constant stream of short silent films for anyone willing to peer through the peephole.

A meow-velous tribute to a beloved street cat, made famous on the internet.

The Virginia farm where John Wilkes Booth met his grisly end is now largely forgotten.

The Kalamazoo factory has 100 years of instrument-making, and one big wartime secret.

A tribute to the truly loyal dog who waited outside a hospital for his owner to come back.

At this Minnesota state park you can easily wade across the source of the mighty Mississippi.

A fantastic array of trays and cables once whisked books over to the Capitol at 600 feet per minute.

A metal ring in the middle of the road marks the exact spot where the Soviet satellite crash-landed in 1962.

A collection of 16,000 antlers crammed beautifully into a small shed.