If you keep at it, and drive until you feel the endless flat landscape pressing against your sanity like Nyarlathotep descending on a tasty morsel of virgin consciousness, you'll reach exit 382.
There's nothing there, really. A golf cart store, a gas station, a sign advertising an inn that's been closed for years...that's about it. There is also, just to the north of the interstate and a little more than a quarter of a mile from the exit, the ruins of a tiny wooden church, collapsing into decay.
The church itself is here:
When we drove past the church, I had no choice but to stop and photograph it. The ruins are beautiful beyond all comprehension. It's a pretty hard slog from the exit, through thick brush, and a barbed-wire fence along the interstate prevented me from getting behind it. Plus, I got ticks while getting these pictures. Ticks! *shudders*
Some of these pictures would make awesome posters.