Follow the path behind this treat-slinging camper van to a sculpture garden in the forest.

This roadside attraction has been serving out its fair share of hearty folklore and chaos since 1858.

This abandoned lighthouse looks like a rusting oil rig, but has managed to survive a number of storms.

The only known Futuro house in North Carolina sits along a stretch of desolate highway on the Outer Banks.  .

The U.S. Supreme Court's secret Cold War relocation facility in the mountains of North Carolina.

A retired tobacco farmer's pet project turned into a sturdy miniature city.

A cabin completely covered in coffee mugs, where visitors are welcome to leave one of their own—if they can find an empty nail.

North Carolina's finest examples of Native American pictographs have survived for 5,000 years.

The remains of the iconic train crash from the movie The Fugitive can still be found rusting along the Great Smoky Railroad.

This bridge is haunted by the ghost of a distraught mother.

A piece of outsider public art accompanied by a strange urban legend.

A gorgeous mural outside a beloved D.C. restaurant pays homage to famous Black Americans.

Washington's top-secret Cold War-era doomsday communications tower is located in a small neighborhood park.

Senators used to relax in the nearly forgotten marble tubs now hidden in the U.S. Capitol Building's basement.

This unacceptably tall building was the real reason for Washington, D.C.'s skyscraper ban.

A museum cafe showcases Native American dishes and indigenous ingredients from across the Western Hemisphere.

One of the largest artillery pieces in the world sits in a Washington D.C. parking lot.

The monument's pointy aluminum tip has been melted down by repeated lightning strikes.

Legend has it that President Grant’s frequent drinking in the lobby gave rise to the term “lobbyist.”

The span is crooked and made from two older recycled bridges.

Once the supplier for noteworthy projects like the National Cathedral, this old brickworks now lies abandoned.

Members of Congress have traveled between the buildings on Capitol Hill for a century hidden from tourists, press, and storm clouds.

You could be standing at the site of one of D.C.'s most fatal tragedies and not even know it.

An Industrial Revolution-era public work that purified water using nothing but sand.