The statue honors the booming birds Rothsay, Minnesota, is famous for.

One of two giant blue cockerel statues erected with an intentional double meaning.

Minnesota's highest point is a scenic vista marked by a plaque and armies of mosquitoes.

Duluth mineral magnates built this charming art deco lodge to be their private clubhouse.

When waves crash onto this section of beach, the rocks sing a song.

Journey through the largest remaining peat bogs in the contiguous United States to see the wilderness as it once was.

In one Chicago park, a trio of werewolves are waiting to devour their fallen brethren.

Hidden on the 7th floor of a historic building, this Cajun spot features wall-to-wall bottles of hot sauce.

No two pieces are exactly the same at Portland's hippo-themed hardware store.

Featuring a casually threatening atmosphere along with dessert and coffee to die for.

10,000 flowered plants bloom in the City of Roses.

Not-so-fearsome tiny trolls live under this wooden train trestle in Portland.

The eerie remnants of an ancient forest were hidden under the sand for centuries.

A late-night restaurant empire was launched from this humble storefront.

Spiral labyrinth hidden in the hills above Oakland, CA.

This unassuming cheese empire in rural Oregon churns out more than 150,000 pounds of cheese each day.

This twice-relocated "Usonian" home is among the smallest built by master architect Frank Lloyd Wright.

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

Bootleggers ran booze beneath this building before (and after) Route 66 appeared beside it.

Eat like pre-Columbian Native Americans in this New Mexico restaurant within the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center.

Once in disrepair, this popular Texas stop along iconic Route 66 has been restored to its past glory.

The future of roadside attractions is this sci-fi soda mecca that is home to a 66-foot tall neon pop bottle.

The storied steakhouse is the last in a long line of Lebanese-owned supper clubs in Tulsa.

A remarkable lava formation encloses a line of Buddhist statues that can't be accurately counted, according to local mythology.