1,000 Places to See in the U.S.A. & Canada Before You Die (2 page)

North America was by no means terra incognita to me: I had been criss-crossing
it ever since I can remember, long ago lured by the possibilities it promised. I prided myself on not being one of the masses Calvin Trillin described when he wrote, “Americans drive across this country like someone is chasing them.” I break for photo ops, for kids pouring out of school, to smell the camellias, listen to the church carillon, and for any handmade sign that says “Pick it yourself” or “Homemade here.” I’ve even risen above it in hot-air balloons to sail at a bird’s pace and see it from God’s perspective.

My meanderings began way back when my sister, Roz, and I were relegated to the back seat of the family station wagon for long summer trips to the Jersey Shore (except for that one year when the gas tank fell off and we never made it past the end of the driveway). One wouldn’t consider our modest “are we there yet?” road trips extravagant cross-country journeys, but explain that to a 6-year-old. The anticipation alone was enough to keep me awake the night before, and to this day any passing vignette of countryside framed by the car window awakens in me that same childlike flutter of discovery. We would strike off, leaving behind the predictability of our everyday lives in the small riverside city of Beacon, New York, where we walked to school, left our doors unlocked, and helped shovel our neighbors out after a snowstorm. Our mother’s extended Italian family supplied an exuberant and enlightening insight into the inimitable notion of America as melting pot. My Teutonic father was a private man who was 90 years old before he mentioned that one of his parents was part Native American. When I asked why he had never told us before, he answered “You never asked.” Together they introduced me to this country where everything that smelled of America was appreciated and good, and we never had to look much beyond North Walnut Street for affirmation.

Beacon didn’t have many claims to fame apart from its location on a particularly beautiful bend in the Hudson River and our most illustrious resident, Pete Seeger. Of his incredible repertoire of American folk songs, the one I loved best was one he borrowed from Woody Guthrie and made his own:

This land is your land,

This land is my land.

From California, to the

     
New York island.

From the redwood forests

To the Gulf Stream waters.

This land was made for you and me.

Glimpsed from this idyllic spot on the Hudson River, the potential of America the Beautiful beckoned: How could I not take the opportunity to explore this land Pete Seeger promised
was mine, heeding the call of the open road? I decided to dive into this great country of ours—and along the way, dip into the wealth that is Canada, our remarkable neighbor to the North—and a new book was on its way.

In the course of my research, I roamed landscapes old and new, some first seen during teenage road trips, revisited now with fresh eyes. Having skied the Alps of Europe, I found our Rockies every bit as majestic. After time spent absorbing the joys of small villages and cities from France to Scotland, I experienced the historic quarter of Montreal and the old fishing towns of Nova Scotia with a newfound appreciation. I discovered the kinship between chaotic and vibrant Hong Kong and Manhattan, both fueled by ambition and divided into neighborhoods where anything can happen, and almost always does.

States and cities that had never figured on my short list of places I simply had to see, surprised me with their beauty, traditional ways, and proud history. Here are just a few of the eye-openers: the inspiring talent that rolls in from the range for the Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Lewistown, Montana; the beauty of the Oregon Coast (why is it that California gets all the attention?); the unabashed fun of the Dallas State Fair (where I discovered the decadent pleasure of deep-fried Oreos); the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia, whose display of hardwood trees turning crimson and gold might possibly trump autumn in New England; the safari-like excitement of viewing the polar bears of Churchill in Manitoba; and standing in awe beneath the swirling nocturnal show of the aurora borealis in Fairbanks, Alaska. The romance and grandeur and excitement that I had found elsewhere on the globe were here in spades at every turn, and all for the price of a tank (or two or three) of gas.

For a dose of patriotism, there is nothing more moving than a contemplative walk through the fields of Gettysburg, or Vicksburg, or Antietam, or the quintessentially American thrill at liftoff at the Kennedy Space Center. Dig in at Maine’s annual Lobster Festival or browse the small Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, for a concentration of all-Americana, the same feeling that stirs me when driving through any crossroads caught in time, dissected by a 1950s Main Street with a shiny chrome diner at its center—a quiet blink-and-you’ll-miss-it slice of smalltown America in the middle of nowhere.

Adventure is where you find it. It needn’t be on the other side of the globe or in an ancient medina, but it sure isn’t on your couch. There is no limit to the world of possibilities if you nurture your curiosity and keep your eyes open. And look closely, for the
most special moments may not be at the Mount Rushmores or the Grand Canyons, although these monumental icons figure high on most travelers’ life lists. But so should a visit to Kentucky’s serene Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill, or a sighting of the wild horses that still roam the pristine shores of Cumberland Island off the coast of Georgia. What’s more, remember that rather than a carefully planned itinerary, it’s often serendipity that leads you to our greatest national treasure—the people who make up this great continent. From the gracious couple who run that B&B you stumbled upon in Hannibal (ask for the room where Mark Twain slept) to the rowdy family who spontaneously included you in Grandpa’s 80th birthday celebration in that smoky barbeque dive in Plano, Texas.

Back in the days of our massive expansion Horace Greeley urged America to “Go west, young man.” But also go north and south and east while you’re at it. Make sure you stop everywhere in between, too, eschewing the interstates for the two-lane highways—and never pass up the homemade pie. Hit the road before you hit the remote, indulge your wanderlust, and you’ll wind up agreeing with T.S. Eliot, who wrote:

And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.

Creating this book has been challenging, enlightening, and humbling as I discovered time and again the country that is my home. My goal was to shed light on its most wonderful places—both world-famous and unsung—and to get you on your way to discovering them. I join my fellow Beaconite Pete Seeger in singing the high praises of this land that was made for you and me.

Whether you’re using this book to plan your travel or are just doing a little armchair adventuring, it’ll help to know some of the general philosophy behind the entries—how they’re organized, what level of detail I’ve included, what some of the terminology refers to. At the end, I’ve also included some information on traveling between the U.S.A. and Canada.

Many entries describe a single particular experience—visiting the Heard Museum in Phoenix, Arizona, perhaps the premier collection of
Native American art and culture in the country; catching a game at Boston’s venerable Fenway Park, the oldest major league ballpark in America; walking in the footsteps of Franklin Delano Roosevelt at his Hudson Valley home and the country’s first presidential library in Hyde Park, New York.

Sometimes, though, it just made more sense geographically—or in the simple attempt to create the best experience possible—to combine two, sometimes more, destinations within a single entry. Enjoying Maryland’s Talbot County on the Chesapeake’s Eastern Shore means visiting small maritime museums and historical lighthouses, then feasting at the dive-y Crab Claw in St. Michaels and overnighting at the 1710 Robert Morris Inn in stuck-intime Oxford. And exploring New Hamphire’s Lake Region can mean a cruise on Lake Winnipesaukee, and an afternoon at the Antique & Classic Boat Show in Meredith, later falling asleep to the sound of loons at the Manor on Golden Pond on the banks of quiet Squam Lake. The California entry about the Pacific Coast Highway literally brims with all the must-stops and photo ops along America’s Dream Drive.

For the purposes of this book, I’ve divided the United States into nine regions, which are then further subdivided geographically into states grouped from the East Coast to West Coast and beyond:

• N
EW
E
NGLAND

• M
ID
-A
TLANTIC

• T
HE
S
OUTHEAST

• M
ISSISSIPPI
V
ALLEY

• T
HE
M
IDWEST

• G
REAT
P
LAINS

• F
OUR
C
ORNERS AND THE
S
OUTHWEST

• W
EST
C
OAST

• A
LASKA AND
H
AWAII

Canada is loosely divided in half:

• E
ASTERN
C
ANADA

• W
ESTERN
C
ANADA

Within these divisions, entries are further divided alphabetically by state or province (see the table of contents for a quick reference), with each one’s entries further organized alphabetically by town or city or by the destination itself (Yellowstone National Park, for example, falls at the end of the Wyoming section).

At the back of the book, you’ll find a general index and ten special indexes that allow you to find information by type of entry: golf, beaches, scenic drives, museums, and so on, with a specific Take the Kids index for suggested family holidays.

Following the text that describes each of the 1,000 places, I’ve included practical information that will help you in
planning your trip—but remember, since travel information is eternally subject to change, you should always confirm by phone or e-mail before you leave home. Here’s a run-through of what you’ll see within the entries.

Most of the practical information sections open with the entry’s distance from a major city, and list the phone number and web address. For space reasons we have included only the street address of those places listed in the entry name; for all others described in text, call or check the website. Contact information for the local tourist office for general information about the area is usually included as well.

Although rarely mentioned in the text, I sometimes recommend outfitters or operators that offer tours, treks, kayaking, and other package or customized travel to the particular destination. Occasionally these are listed by what they offer, for example, K
AYAKING
or S
URFING
.

Hotels, inns, and B&Bs listed under this head have not been discussed in the entry text but merit a mention here, as they are reliable choices located near the topic of the entry, and are of at least acceptable to good quality.

As prices are in continual flux, these are meant to provide you with a working indication of expense, rather than a to-the-dollar estimate. I have listed prices for all hotels, restaurants, theater and event tickets, and package trips discussed in the book, based on the following parameters. I have not included the usual costs for museums, parks, or fares for ferries and the like; they are generally moderate and not surprising. Nor, for the most part, have I included kids’ prices.

Hotels.
Listed hotel costs are per double room, unless noted otherwise. Certain kinds of hotels (such as dude ranches or wilderness lodges) quote their rates on a per person, per day, and generally double-occupancy basis and are listed as such. Where applicable, hotel entries include information for peak and off-peak seasons.

Trips/Packages/Excursions.
Organized trip costs are usually given in total, per person, based on double occupancy, with notes on what is included in the rate (how many nights of accommodations, meals, transportation, amenities, etc.). Note that “Cost” does not include airfare unless otherwise stated.

Restaurants.
Meal prices listed are per person and represent the average cost of a meal without wine. When the restaurant offers a special tasting menu
(multiple courses, multiple wines) or a fixed-price menu for which it is known, I’ve usually listed these as well.

I’ve noted which days and/or seasons each entry is open. For hotels and sites, W
HEN
does not appear if the establishment is open year-round. Single-day holiday closings (such as for Christmas) have not been noted, nor have short seasonal closings that may change from year to year—such as when some small restaurants or B&Bs close for a week or two off season, or a wilderness resort closes during late-spring “mud season.” Because so many restaurants have varied schedules, I haven’t included W
HEN
for these. Please call ahead.

Be especially sure to contact hotels, restaurants, and target attractions in advance if traveling during holiday months or off-season months in areas that may receive little or no traffic.

For almost every entry, I’ve listed the best time or times to visit, taking into account weather, festivals, sports and leisure opportunities, and other significant events. When no B
EST
T
IMES
are listed—as is often the case with hotels, restaurants, and museums—the implication is “year-round.”