Giant origami sculptures tucked into desert scenery beckon passers-by to explore further.

The symbol was surreptitiously built into the river bank by German prisoners of war.

The final resting place of the most famous outlaw in the Old West.

A 115-year-old restored German dining hall awaits those who venture beneath the Minnesota State Capitol.

The oldest family-run restaurant in the United States is a living museum of New Orleans dining history.

Parts of the civil rights movement unfolded in this historic eatery, helmed by the "Queen of Creole Cuisine."

Train cars and railroad artifacts abound at this restaurant devoted to railway history.

Opened in 1976, this monster-sized version of the fast-food franchise is sometimes called the Epic McD.

This Tibetan and Naxi village's Honey Rose wine bears the mark of 19th-century French missionaries.

This is no ordinary coffee chain outlet—it's an architectural masterpiece.

This third-generation shop has been doling out bowls of tilapia soup since 1977.

The bad-ass ride of a soul legend, housed in one of the world's few soul museums.

A natural sandstone bridge hidden in the Sewanee forest.

A 30-foot-tall cement chair pays tribute to a historic design and a local industry.

An exotic wildlife habitat right off The Strip.

These banned cigarette vending machines now sell little pieces of pocket-sized art.

Formerly the world's largest, this Willy Wonka-esque contraption runs 24/7.

A 200-year-old bar in the historic French Quarter refuses to give up its place in history, nor its role in securing ours.

A museum and shop on Bourbon Street located in the former home of the second Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.

The second oldest continuously operating bar in Louisiana.

Known as the "Cross At The Crossroads," this massive metal cross is just short enough to avoid the FAA.

A pop-culture attraction outside of Dyersville, Iowa, hits a home run.

After a water tower painting was accused of being an ad, a simple fix was made that gave the city a motto.

A life-sized memorial to Harry L. Collins, the official corporate magician of Frito-Lay.