This century-old confectioner's outlet store was plucked right out of the Seattle World's Fair.

Tacoma’s 25-foot coffee pot music spot has served up over 80 years of concrete kitsch.

This famous bridge twisted itself into oblivion, but not for the reason you might think.

Local stories say that if you drink from this well, you will return to Olympia.

A large AIDS Memorial Pathway art installation provides a moment for quiet contemplation in this public park.

Allowing humans and fish alike to migrate from freshwater to saltwater and back again.

From a neon Rapunzel to a bike traffic meter to a street fair color scheme, the most opened drawbridge in the US is a veritable art gallery.

This former coal gasification plant found a curious second life as a popular public park.

What's that on the side of that building? Va Va Voom, it's Bettie!

This stoic, if derpy, giant stands as a monument to Oregon's statehood and the novelty culture of yesteryear.

A giant sculpture dedicated to a staple of South Bend food culture.

This super-sized skillet is a replica of a usable giant pan where a woman once skated on bacon.

Home of Jake the Alligator Man, the mummified remains of a cigar smoking, cross-dressing celebrity of the Northwestern coast.

The highest point in Washington state is a volcano covered in glaciers.

100-year-old shipwreck you can walk up to at low tide.

A massive sea stack famous for its appearance in The Goonies.

No one knows how this Pacific Northwest spruce tree came to have so many trunks.

Two massive rock outcroppings on the Oregon coastline.

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

A roaring, awe-inspiring double cascade of icy water flows through woodland Oregon like something out of a Tolkien novel.

This extravagant Art Nouveau rest stop features a million-dollar view of the Columbia River.

Nestled between a college and a golf course, the garden is home to more than 2,500 rhododendrons.

The world's smallest park was dedicated in 1948 as the only colony for leprechauns west of Ireland.

This public art piece proves that in Portland even reporting the weather is a thing of whimsy.