Places sarashenanigans Wants to Go

This stately mansion, built in 1787 by America's first Secretary of the Navy, is rumored to be one of the most haunted buildings in Washington, DC.

There's an old indoor swimming pool hidden directly underneath the White House Press Briefing Room.

When it comes to handsignals (and colonialism) rock always beats scissors.

Before Nixon, "watergate" meant canals.

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

A diminutive plaque recalls the treetop sniper who almost killed Abe Lincoln.

There’s a special club house at the top for the bell ringers.

A historic arena where the Beatles played their first concert in the U.S.

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

This robust fence in front of a historic Georgetown home is likely made from hundreds of recycled Revolutionary War firearms.

The discovery site of the "Capitalsaurus," the official dinosaur of Washington, D.C.

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

A small triangle of DC grass is the final resting place of one of Sonny and Cher's songs.

Go take a picture with the inventor of the daguerreotype photographic process.

A fantastic array of trays and cables once whisked books over to the Capitol at 600 feet per minute.

In the basement of the U.S. Capitol Building is a hidden storage room full of ornate floor tiles leftover from the 1850s.

This poor little statue is the most vandalized memorial in Washington.

This sandwich shop has a century-old elevator behind a sheet of plexiglass.

Where the U.S. government kept its actual treasure, before Fort Knox.

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

The only Civil War battle in Washington D.C. took place near this highest natural point in the city.

A clone of a cloned tree that was so important it allegedly had its own guards.

Light bulbs, scrap wood, and tinfoil comprise this homemade throne of the gods.

Obscure Freemasons still live in D.C.’s largest private residence.