Of all the iconic cities in the good ole U.S. of A. — New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Nashville (to name a few) — New Orleans was one that I had yet to check off my list. That was rectified in the spring of 2025 when I ventured once more to the Deep South with my parents and two of my siblings for a little family vacay in the Big Easy.
Las Vegas’ Neon Museum is in the business of preserving the stories of those ill-fated ventures, collecting and displaying the neon signs of the ghosts of casinos past — and those of casinos present — making sure their memories live on. Located near the Fremont Street Experience in downtown Las Vegas, the museum invites you to travel back in time through the decades, learning about the twists and turns that helped make Vegas what it is today.
Vintage books are by no means a necessity, but if you’re in the market for some classic tomes — if, perhaps, you have a collection going, or are looking to begin one — there are a few spots around Chicago that need to be on your radar. Here are three of them.
Nestled up in the Hudson Valley, only an hour or so from the hubbub of New York City, is where you’ll find the small village that author Washington Irving once described as “one of the quietest places in the whole world”, where “the occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity”. Sleepy Hollow, forever immortalized in Irving’s writing, is still a quaint little place to visit these days; whether or not Ichabod Crane would recognize it in its current state is another question.
Sporting some of the best fall foliage anywhere in the nation, New England is kind of the place to be when you start to feel that crisp, crisp air creep back in. The color-changing parade that falls across the region like a patchwork quilt every September and October is undoubtedly one of the biggest draws for anyone looking to put a fall getaway on the books, but let’s also remember that this is spooky season, and New England is hardly wanting in the arena of things that go bump in the night. From haunted houses and hotels to ghost-riddled cemeteries and ships, you can scare your pants off properly six ways to Sunday.
I had never been to Arizona — now the 35th state I have checked off my race to all 50 — so you can imagine my excitement as I first laid eyes on the sign that read: “The Grand Canyon State Welcomes You”. My main objective was to visit that gargantuan hole in the earth that has entranced visitors for centuries. So, after finally making a stop at the damn dam and a nearby overlook of Lake Mead, I instructed the Google Maps machine to take me to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.
We’re here to talk shop, and by that, I mean volleyball. Specifically, the kind played on the sand in the summertime, which is the best kind in my opinion, and the preferred version of the sport for Chicagoans when the warm weather washes up on the shores of Lake Michigan. Visit any of the beaches mentioned below for yourself during the summer and you'll likely come to the same conclusion.
“Is this Heaven?” No, and it isn’t Iowa either. It’s Washington, baby, and the view from up here is one of the most breathtaking ones you will find anywhere in North America. Where is “up here”, you ask? “Up here” would be the summit at Crystal Mountain Resort, where, after a brief ride on a gondola, you are afforded one of the most fantastic views of Mount Rainier that you may ever see.
Have you ever wanted to sit down at the Double R Diner with a damn fine cup of coffee? Or maybe take in the view of the gushing falls next to the Great Northern Hotel? Perhaps get a glimpse of Sheriff Truman’s retro Ford Bronco? While the titular town of David Lynch and Mark Frost’s mind-bending murder mystery series “Twin Peaks” may not exist in real life, a handful of landmarks and landscapes seen and used in the show are out there — and only a short drive from downtown Seattle.
The events of May 25, 2020, when a former Minneapolis police officer put his knee on a man’s neck and kept it there until he could no longer breathe, and the summer that followed, when millions marched in the streets of cities not just across the United States but all around the globe — amid a worldwide pandemic the likes of which hadn’t been seen in a century, no less — created a chapter in our collective history that won’t soon be forgotten.
Immortalized by John Steinbeck’s 1939 book “The Grapes of Wrath”, as well as the 1946 song “(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66”, the highway became one of the most recognized thoroughfares in North America, crisscrossing not just from Chicago to Santa Monica, California, and back again, but also across our hearts (*cue studio audience: “aww!”). And though the highway no longer exists in a technical sense — it was officially removed from the U.S. Highway System in 1985 — stretches of what has become known as “Historic Route 66” in some states are still out there waiting for you.
One of Oklahoma City’s unexpected gems is the Plaza District, a quaint little neighborhood just northwest of downtown filled to the brim with vintage shops, various boutiques, a handful of bars and restaurants, and a few other ditties worth checking out. It’s honestly a spot where you could easily lose track of time and end up spending the whole day, if not the evening.
For once in my life, I looked around, surrounded by unfamiliar territory, and though I had the greatest urge to spout that age-old movie reference — “we’re not in Kansas anymore” — the fact of the matter was that, yes, we very much were in Kansas. I mean, in the very heart of America, in that region known as the Great Plains, you have some idea of what you’ll come across, but reading about it or seeing a photo or video is truly not the same as being surrounded by rolling green hills as far as the eye can see.
Here’s the thing about New York: there’s always a new adventure to be had. That is even the case when you only have roughly 36 hours to spend in America’s largest city, needing to cram a number of stops and activities into a short amount of time. But under those kinds of time constraints, what can you feasibly make happen? Well, let me tell you.
Key West wasn’t necessarily high on my travel bucket list, but it was on there (as is just about every other destination on planet Earth). Regardless, I figured it was better to visit sooner rather than later; that is, before the Florida Keys succumb in their entirety to the catastrophic effects of unchecked climate change and become the newest version of the Lost City of Atlantis.
There are surely plenty of places in the western United States where you can get a taste of what it might have been like to be a rancher in the late 19th century, but perhaps one destination that captures that feeling better than anywhere else is the Fort Worth Stockyards Historic District in Texas.
With the popularity of Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon, it kind of feels like we’re truly having a Medieval moment. You might even say that kings and queens and knights and dragons are experiencing a renaissance (see what I did there?). Of course, even in the absence of those HBO stalwarts, people have always been interested in the Middle Ages, which is why renaissance fairs and the like exist.
Hidden in the 17.5 million acres of forest spread across the state of Maine are a number of abandoned sites. These include vacant paper mills, deserted homes, old forts, and underground bunkers. But one of the most interesting things you’ll find in the woods of northern Maine are a pair of long-forgotten locomotive engines, rusting away in the middle of nowhere.
If not for winter sports, the chilliest season of the year would be downright, nonstop depressing, but thanks to the ancient man or woman who decided to strap a couple slats of wood to their feet for a simple means of transportation thousands of years ago (allegedly), we have the option nowadays to ski (or snowboard) recreationally at resorts the world over. And thank eight-pound, six-ounce baby Jesus for that, am I right?
It’s the kind of place you probably wouldn’t go unless you had a specific reason. Like, say, if your youngest brother decided he wanted to go out into the world and try something new, and if, due to a range of factors, he wound up moving to Oklahoma City with one of his best friends from high school. If something like that were to occur, well you would have all the reason you’d need to finally check Oklahoma off the list, right?
While paying a visit to our good friend Abe or taking in the magnificence of the World War II Memorial or reflecting quietly at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial are all perfectly good uses of your time in the nation’s capital, there is also a good selection of watering holes for those looking to wet their whistles after the sun goes down.
You’ve no doubt heard of the Four Corners — the monument that marks the spot where Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona come together, allowing you to stand in all four states at once — but there’s another convergence of state lines over in the Midwest that’s likely never crossed your mind. It’s so obscure, in fact, that it might as well just be marked by a rock on the side of a dirt road.
“Stairway to Heaven” may be the name of an absolute jam by Led Zeppelin, but it’s also the nickname for a series of steps found on the Hawaiian island of Oahu that may soon be removed for good. The Haiku Stairs, a 3,000-plus step, steel staircase leading up into the Ko’olau mountain range, are a travel bucket list item for many — but if you’re planning to check it off yours, you’ll need to do so in a hurry.
If you asked 100 random people on the street what the southernmost point of the continental U.S. is, perhaps 50 to 60 of them could correctly tell you that Key West, Florida, is the destination you’re after. What would happen, though, if you asked the same group to name the northernmost point? Would the number of correct responses be similar? Higher? Lower? If I were betting on it, I’d certainly take the under.
It was a joke. Kind of. But as my brother’s 21st got closer and closer, my resolve grew: we were going to do it. Well, we were going to do something, anyway. I told him we didn’t necessarily need to go to San Diego; we could take a trip wherever his little heart desired. Somehow, some way, we landed on Vegas. Yes, Sin City was going to be the one.
Airplanes come in all shapes and sizes, but it’s not every day you find yourself aboard a nine-seater headed over one of the largest fresh water sources on the planet. That is, unless you decide to enlist the services of Cape Air, a smaller airline with routes in various parts of the U.S. and the Caribbean.
“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” Isn’t that what they say? Well, what if we’re not talking about Sin City, but another town that just happens to share the same name? Does the rule still apply then? You may have thought there was only enough room for one Las Vegas in this world, but the truth, my friend, is this: there are actually six.
You’ve heard of #vanlife, right? That whole thing where people hit the road for long stretches at a time, living out of a vehicle equipped balls-to-the-wall with as many modern conveniences as possible? Of course you have, you don’t live under a rock. Instagram is littered with people who have outwardly embraced the lifestyle, and every time you see one of those posts, you wonder: what if?
Skiing in Colorado — there is absolutely, without-a-doubt, no-buts-about-it nothing anywhere else in the world that compares. And you can take that one to the bank. With world-class slopes, seemingly endless ski resorts and all the fresh pow (that is, snow) one could ever dream of come wintertime, the Centennial State is an unparalleled cold-weather destination.
There they went, walking down the street in a straight line, looking like a high school football team warming up before practice with some high knees. There was Andrew, James, Michael, Patrick, Lucy, Bernadette, and, oh my goodness, don’t look now, but it’s Francis of Assisi himself. That’s right: it was Thursday in New Orleans and the saints were marching in. Or was I just hallucinating?