Technically, pronghorns are not true antelopes, but try telling that to early settlers. This stunning slot canyon was named in their honor.

Winding through the Navajo Nation in northern Arizona, its entrance was once grazed by herds of pronghorns gracefully navigating the red rock terrain. Although the original inhabitants have mostly been scared away, the beautiful landscape remains.

Image: Paul IJsendoorn

Despite the name, no actual buffalo roam here—only football fans in snow boots. There are several theories about the origin of the name: some say it comes from the French beau fleuve ("beautiful river"), while others insist early settlers mistook bison sightings for true buffalo.

Either way, the city still honors the animal’s spirit through bronze statues, sports teams, and, of course, Buffalo wings.

Image: Pixabay

White Salmon, Washington. This charming town above the Columbia River Gorge got its name from an unusual fish tale. In 1805, Lewis and Clark spotted pale-colored Chinook salmon swimming upstream and named the White Salmon River, which later lent its name to the town.

The white salmon themselves are rare spring sightings, but the name stuck, like a good fishing story.

Image: Drew Farwell

No, they didn’t find woolly mammoth bones here. The name "Mammoth" refers to the size, not the species, of this mind-bending cave system. With over 400 miles explored, this south-central Kentucky cave is the largest known cave system on Earth.

Image: Jonathan Cooper

Two towns, one majestic bird, and a very straightforward name. In Alaska, Eagle River sits just outside Anchorage, where bald eagles actually soar overhead—and sometimes steal a salmon right out of your hands.

In Wisconsin, Eagle River offers a quieter charm: a hub for lake lovers and snowmobilers who know how often the eagle motif appears on murals, signs, and T-shirts.

Image: Greg Johnson

The name alone sounds like it belongs in a Western, and the real place doesn’t disappoint. This high mountain pass in southern Colorado winds its way through the San Juan Mountains, where wolves once prowled the slopes.

Though they’ve long been gone from the area, the name remains, also immortalized in a song by C.W. McCall.

Image: Deepak Adhikari

This coastal enclave near Naples is all palm trees, golf carts, and private beaches, but yes, there are still pelicans.

Big, slightly clumsy, and oddly charming, they’re often seen gliding above the Gulf waters or crash-landing into the surf. The bay itself is a protected estuary, and the birds serve as unofficial greeters.

Image: J Dean

If you were to walk around the area, you’d understand why this town got its name: actual moose wander here. Just outside Grand Teton National Park, the scenic town of Moose offers ranger stations, cozy lodges, and the occasional 1,200-pound mammal chewing shrubs near the parking lot.

Image: Danika Perkinson

This river wasn’t named directly after the clever creature, but after the Fox (Meskwaki) Native American tribe. The winding river flows more than 200 miles, passing through Midwest towns, bike trails, and history-rich spots

Today, statues, murals, and local school mascots keep the fox theme alive, although you’re unlikely to spot a red fox along the riverbanks these days.

Image: David Gomez

This turquoise lake marks the Utah–Idaho border and was named after, you guessed it, actual bears.

Grizzly and black bears once roamed the surrounding area, though nowadays you’re more likely to spot jet skis than paw prints. Locals call it the "Caribbean of the Rockies," thanks to its unique limestone-rich, electric-blue waters.

Image: Megan Nixon

Cougar, a tiny town in southwestern Washington, gets its name from the sleek mountain lions that once roamed the thick forests nearby. The area is best known for its proximity to Mount St. Helens. A post office called "Cougar" was established there in the early 1900s, and the unincorporated community followed soon after.

Image: Leah Huyghe

In what is now Silicon Valley, Coyote was once a standalone ranch town named for the clever canines that run across the hills.

While coyotes still prowl the region—occasionally crashing backyard barbecues—the town itself has been mostly absorbed into San Jose. Still, the name lingers in road signs, local parks, and historic maps.

Image: Kaylin Pacheco

High above the Appalachian ridges of eastern Pennsylvania, Hawk Mountain is a sanctuary. It was transformed into the world’s first refuge for birds of prey in the 1930s.

Today, birdwatchers flock here every fall to witness thousands of hawks, eagles, and falcons gliding overhead. There’s no town—just trails and sky.

Image: Frank Cone