Every cross-country driver eventually has to deal with St. Louis. You can skirt it on the outer ring, sure, but if your route puts you anywhere near the middle of the country, odds are you’ll thread the needle where the Mississippi bends west and the Gateway Arch rises out of the riverfront like a silver … Read more
There is a stretch of the Sierra Nevada where the calendar stops mattering and elevation starts running the show. Every September, while New England is still arguing about whether October will behave, the aspens on the eastern slope of the Sierra turn gold in a wave that starts above nine thousand feet and works its … Read more
The first time I crested the hill into the Wallowa Valley, my photographer grabbed my arm before I’d even stopped the truck. Below us: a ribbon of river, a lake the color of glacial milk, and a wall of nine-thousand-foot peaks catching the last of the light. We had driven six hours from Portland and … Read more
On November 11, 1926, a bureaucrat somewhere in Washington signed off on a number, and a legend got its name. Route 66 was commissioned that day — 2,448 miles of asphalt and gravel stitching Chicago to Los Angeles through eight states that had never before been connected quite like that. A hundred years later, almost … Read more
Every August, without fail, my inbox starts filling up with the same question from friends and readers: when should I book my fall trip? And every August, I give the same answer — wait for the forecast. This year we didn’t have to wait long. The Old Farmer’s Almanac just released its 2026 fall foliage … Read more
There’s a moment on the Cabot Trail, somewhere between the 40th and 50th lookoff of the day, when you stop reaching for your camera. Not because the views get worse — because your arms give out. This is the road Nova Scotians have been quietly bragging about for a century, a 185-mile loop around the … Read more
There is a particular kind of Florida that doesn’t make the brochures anymore. It lives on the thin ribbon of land between the Atlantic and the Indian River Lagoon, where the speed limit is 35, the radio comes in half-static, and every few miles a beach access road tempts you into stopping before you meant … Read more
There is a moment, halfway across the bridge that leaves Jupiter and angles toward the barrier island, when the mainland noise simply stops. The Intracoastal opens up beneath you, the water goes from channel-deep green to the impossible turquoise of the shallows, and ahead stands a thin green ribbon of land that most Floridians have … Read more
There’s a particular moment on the Multnomah Falls viewpoint bridge when the mist hits your face and the 620-foot cascade drowns out every other sound. I’ve stood there in July, shoulder-to-shoulder with two hundred strangers all jostling for the same selfie angle. But last September, I had it to myself for nearly ten minutes. Just … Read more
There’s a moment on Minnesota’s Highway 61 — somewhere past Two Harbors, when the birch trees thin out and the lake opens up on your left like an inland sea — where you stop checking your phone. Not because you lost signal (though you will). Because there’s nothing on a screen that competes with 31,000 … Read more