Ten 25-foot-tall, beehive-shaped kilns, abandoned in Death Valley.

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

A world-class observatory in the California desert.

This impressive tunnel was dug entirely by hand over the course of 36 years.

Named after a bandit and the star of several Hollywood prehistoric landscapes, these sandstone formations are a historical part of the Los Angeles natural landscape.

A multimedia experience that chronicles the atrocities of racism.

The lowest point in North America is home to an undrinkable pool surrounded by fields of geometric salt flats.

The final resting place of a space program monolith.

Once thought to be the oldest living tree in the world, Methuselah was germinated before the Egyptian pyramids were built.

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

Quite simply the largest tree in the world (by volume).

Aqueducts have dramatically changed this old lake, now home to tufa towers and its very own species of tiny brine shrimp.

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

Behind this beachfront shop lies a spectacular, colorful sea cave with an equally colorful past.

In all of the 29 years it was in operation, no prisoners ever escaped successfully... or so they claim.

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

This iconic L.A. bookshop is housed in an abandoned bank—both symbolic and chic.

World's largest collection of serial killer artwork and other macabre exhibits.

Non-profit time travel mart sells goods you would need for a trip through the fourth dimension.

A vintage video game wonderland in downtown Reykjavik.

This monument to one of the largest science fiction games of all time bears the names of hundreds of thousands of players.

A bit of the Berlin Wall was gifted to the Icelandic capital to commemorate the 25th anniversary of German reunification.

The picturesque birthplace of Icelandic democracy is drenched in the blood of its brutal past.

A giant concrete orb in far north Iceland marks the ever-shifting boundary.