Atlas Obscura

1 week ago | atlasobscura.com | Rebecca Boyle

In the West, where I grew up, there is rarely such a thing as a short drive. If you want to get outside beyond a city like Denver—and much of the reason for living in Denver is the chance to get outside—you have to get in a car, and then spend a lot of time there. Drives are an underrated form of exploration and expansion. And the ability to drive at night, if you can, offers an unparalleled chance to explore the stars. If you are the passenger, or your kids are in the backseat, even better.

1 week ago | atlasobscura.com | Roxanne Hoorn

Littleton, North Carolina Cryptozoology & Paranormal Museum Bigfoot prints, Feejee mermaids, and haunted dolls on display in a tiny North Carolina town. 36.4333, -77.9163

1 week ago | atlasobscura.com | Anne Ewbank

If you’ve ever tried to sneak a sip of water in a museum and been yelled at, you know how strict many institutions can be about letting food or liquids near precious art. It’s not an irrational fear, either. In 2006, the Milwaukee Art Museum rented out a pavilion full of sculptures for an event called Martinifest. Fueled by unlimited martinis (tickets were only $30), guests climbed, vomited, and spilled their drinks on the artwork, some of which had to be removed for repair afterward.

2 weeks ago | atlasobscura.com | Julie Zigoris

The entrance of the University of California Botanical Garden at Berkeley appears as one might expect—there’s meandering paths to discover flora and fauna, a plant store stocked with seedlings, wooden benches for taking in the aromas of honeysuckle and rose. Yet there’s a secret part to this garden, a locked area within a locked area, that doesn’t appear on any sign or visitor map. It’s the “cycad jail,” where some of the rarest plants in the world are kept.

2 weeks ago | atlasobscura.com | Olivia Young

In 1905, the sprawling estuaries of South Florida were a hotbed of sinister activity. Men with shotguns quietly skulked around the mangroves, marshes, and bays of present-day Everglades National Park, staking out rookeries of birds to kill and sell for their feathers. Plume hunting had just been outlawed, which made plumage all the more coveted. So the Florida Audubon Society hired a family man from the small town of Flamingo to be the region’s official bird guardian.