We exited this mighty appendix via the gift shop, not pausing to partake of the Subways restaurant, which used far better signage than the Museum to advertise its existence within those hallowed walls. We were willingly separated from out money for trinkets and went on our way back to the car in the depths of Vahalla to scout out the rest of the now-closed sites.
Lincoln’s home is frozen in time, a pedestrian mall awaiting our visit tomorrow; the church – and then onto Lincoln’s tomb.
Lincoln’s tomb is a spire of granite, towering over a bronze of Lincoln holding the Emancipation, guarded by the four branches of the military he commanded. It sits atop a castle-like mausoleum, which is open for touring and gawking at the great man’s inner crypt, but we were there too late for that; viewing and admiring it in the late-setting sun was enough for us, and once that was done, we found our way to the hotel for a good night’s sleep.
Total miles between two refueling stops: 683 miles.