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

The childhood home of the Sultan of Swat is just a line drive away from Oriole Park at Camden Yards.

The famous blue house from the classic horror film "Halloween" is now a local landmark.

While most wind tunnels test scale models, the "Cave of Winds" was large enough for actual airplanes.

Traversing these canyons, visitors can take in stunning views and glimpses of the region's history.

Once the central jail for Los Angeles, this building housed inmates like Al Capone, those arrested from the Zoot Suit and Watts Riots, and individuals imprisoned for their sexuality.

The headquarters of one of the world’s longest-running humor magazines bears a noticeable resemblance to a head wearing a Prussian helmet.

The fountains of the U.S. Navy Memorial are annually salted with water from the Seven Seas as part of a nautical ritual.

The so-called "Bridge of Thighs" in Palm Springs allows nudists to discreetly cross the road.

A newspaper building that made radio history.

The simple auditorium that launched a pop icon's career into the stratosphere.

"The Star Factory" cranked out Hollywood stars like nobody's business.

One of Hollywood’s favorite government buildings.

Daily lunch spot for many of Washington, D.C.'s cab drivers.

This World's Fair showpiece was built in Chicago, but shipped to Maine.

An unexpected and peaceful oasis on a hillside.

Daredevil repair workers can worm their way out the access hatch, loop ropes over the apex and rappel down the monument.

The stickered marker pinpoints where the only maintained road in the United States crosses into the polar region.

This 19th-century former train station’s unusual roof shape earned it a rather witchy name.

The Citrus Variety Collection at UC Riverside contains two trees of each of the 1,000+ varieties of citrus.

The maritime museum that boasts the largest nautical library in the western hemisphere.

Experience the glam side of air travel without leaving the ground at this speakeasy.

Instead of faces, these sculptures have barcodes—statements on societal dehumanization.

A single light illuminates one man's overshadowed contributions to street lamp history.