Yet a lifetime in the Southwest has taught me that the truth of the arid landscape is something much different. The best deserts hide their secrets under cactuses and boulders, and only offer them up to people who know the magic phrase: “Yeah. I have time to stay a while.”

Joshua Tree National Park—first set aside as a monument by Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1936, but not gaining national park status until 1994—encloses 794,000 acres of one of the very best deserts. Two of the best deserts, in fact, because in valleys between six ranges of mountains the park holds both the lowland Colorado Desert and the high desert of the Mojave, which is cooler (peak highs around 105 instead of 115) and a little wetter (up to eight inches of rain a year as opposed to five). The east side of the park slants down toward the Colorado River while the west side leans toward a coast that is only a few hours’ drive away.

And although the two deserts are geologically unalike—completely different in their plants and ecology—in either one, the first glance seems one of utter hostility: mountains shaped like jawbones of filed teeth, plants with needles that can penetrate leather boots, and animals with poison bites.

But the wise traveler stops to look closer. And then the landscape comes alive with more than 900 species of flowering plants: gold poppy, gray ambonia, desert trumpet, aster, the wooly daisy, and wide, blue Canterbury bells. “And we’re still finding more,” says Joe Zarki, the park’s chief of interpretation. Seventy-five species of butterfly flit their shadows over tarantulas, and species of shrimp swim upside down in small pools caught in the crooks of folded mountains. In the lower Colorado Desert, spiders spin morning webs between the barbs of cholla (called “jumping cactus” for good reason); in the Mojave, desert night lizards perfect the art of being invisible under the fallen bark of Joshua trees. Deserts are landscapes for the miniaturist.

In the rugged desert environs, Bill Keys once built a life for his family at Desert Queen Ranch where the stamp mill and ramshackle family home still stand. Photo by Ralph Nordstrom.

Deep in the heart of the Mojave, I get out of my truck on the park’s Geology Tour Road, a dirt track that skirts the Hexie Mountains. The cooling engine is the only sound, until I start to hear the bumblebees gathering nectar from late blooms and the slow hiss of wind through the reaching branches of the Joshua trees themselves. The air smells like warm rocks. Maybe three hours east of Los Angeles, not another person in sight, I turn a full circle, arms outstretched to the sun.

Stepping around the long, silver spines of a devil’s cactus, I climb some rocks that look like petrified stale bread. Joshua Tree is a paradise for rock climbers who have set hundreds of routes on these odd, beige formations. I once came to watch my wife climb; she was 60 feet up a sheer cliff when a woman stopped and got out of her car to gawk. “Do you think she’s okay?” she asked. “Oh, if you could see her face,” I replied, “you’d see the dopiest smile right now.”

I’m not as ambitious as my wife. I only scramble up 20 feet or so. In a crevice of sand, lizard tracks scratch a pattern I can’t read. A patch of rock goldenbush seems to grow without roots, offering pinhead yellow flowers to the bees that wander by. A hummingbird, breast iridescent in the creosote air, buzzes me and moves on. When I look out at the view to the horizon, at the Joshua trees in full bloom, at the red-tipped ocotillo, the world suddenly becomes too big in a glance. Turkey vultures casting shadows over quartz veins laced through the giant boulders seem to have no trouble taking it all in, though.

The first time my wife and I came to this park a dozen or so years ago we didn’t know what a Joshua tree looked like. We thought we were just looking at big yuccas until we thought to check the cover of U2’s album The Joshua Tree. (“We still get a lot of people coming because of that,” says a park official.) And in a way, that’s what the park’s signature plant is—a big yucca. Named by early pioneers who saw the tree’s branches as the arms of Joshua pointing the way—thirst and hope are powerful persuaders—the Joshua tree is also an ecosystem all its own. Yucca brevifolia shelters orioles and owls; kestrels rest in the branches from hunting trips; and Loggerhead Shrikes stab lizards on the spines, letting the meat ripen. On spring nights, Yucca moths pollinate the trees’ flowers, which look like popcorn bouquets.

Cholla Cactus Garden showcases the lush-looking plant with bristles that “jump” onto unwary passersby. Photo by Ralph Nordstrom.

The animals knew from the beginning what it took people a while to learn. “Anybody who lived out here had to meet the landscape on its own terms,” says Zarki. “You have to reckon with the fact that the desert only offers so much.”

And for those who learned the lesson, the desert could be a surprisingly gentle place. In a tiny bowl canyon in the northwest edge of the park, the Keys family ranched, farmed, and mined the area for more than 50 years. Digging 25 feet or more to hit water, using equipment abandoned by those who could not find a way to water the desert into Eden and so fled for cooler climes, the Keys raised their kids here, accepting any guest who walked by. The family patriarch, Bill, even appeared in a couple Disney movies. The ranch, now open for tours, shows the way to survive in the desert—waste nothing and pay attention to the details.

On a small basis, the park simply absorbs human impact; when the people leave, the mines cave in and dirt blows over their trails. But now, with more than a half-million visitors a year, that impact lingers. Air quality is an increasing issue as the cities and agriculture draw closer. Coyotes prowl campgrounds, and increased trash has created a boom in the raven population, which has, in turn, brought a crisis to the tortoise population (because ravens enjoy nothing more than some tortoise for dessert).

But I tend to think this is all temporary. Time works differently in the desert, and with all the time in the world I watch a trail of ants working a low hill and see the curved track a snake took towards shade. Early in the morning the white petals of a ghost flower glisten with dew, and at night the sky is deeper by hundreds of light years to what I’m used to seeing.

“When I first came, this all looked dead to me,” says Jenn Schramm, a ranger in the park. “And now I see all kinds of stuff.” The very best deserts, I think, teach you how to look. It just takes a little time.

Winter storms knocked down trees a hundred feet tall, eight feet in diameter at the base. Already lichen, shelf-fungus, and flowers the size of pinheads punctuate these fallen logs. A dozen kinds of fern twirl around scatters of bark, and soon entire new glades will be springing up. In my acoustically sensitive state, I wonder, what is the sound of leaves stretching very far to find open sunshine?

The Hoh Rainforest in Olympic National Park in the northwest corner of Washington state—if Washington is shaped like a mitten, the park’s at the tip of the thumb—is my first stop on a listening tour. I’m hoping that if I pay close enough attention, I’ll learn what the world sounds like when it’s only talking to itself.

I need that, because modern life bludgeons us with sound. Cheap car stereos have more amplification than the Beatles used at Shea Stadium. Thanks to the endless hiss of traffic, 6 a.m. lawnmowers, the clang of construction, that annoying cell phone jangle, we live inside noise. Even when we think we’re in a silent place, we’re not. Tests show that if you ask relaxed people in this country to hum, the note they’ll most likely produce is a B natural—the same as the electricity roaring through the wires everywhere surrounding us.

A silence-seeker savors the unparalleled quiet of the Olympic National Park. Photo courtesy Edward Readicker-Henderson.

And in the quietest place in the continental United States, no matter how determined I am not to make a sound, my heartbeat thrums in my ears, almost drowning out the birdsong. I shift my weight, inadvertently bump my walking stick; it falls, clattering against a tree trunk like a wind-up drumming monkey before it finally comes to rest in a patch of moss.

In 1995, Gordon Hempton, an Emmy-winning natural sounds recording artist who was recovering from a bout of temporary deafness and horrified by the noise around him, chose this tiny spot of land in the Hoh Rainforest—47º 51.959N, 123º 52.221W, to be exact—and declared it a sanctuary of quiet. The One Square Inch project was born.

Gordon’s idea is simple, lovely, hopeful: Just as waves ripple out from a dropped pebble in a pond, silence will radiate from a spot that’s kept beautifully still. “One Square Inch is exactly that, an inch I’m defending from noise,” he says at the trailhead, looking over the three of us—me and two young women, a soaking-wet trio of sound pilgrims. “And can one square inch of quiet manage a thousand square miles around it? So far, every indication is that it can.”

Along the three-mile hike in, we stop for slugs, for snails the color of beach sand, for snakes sure they’re doing a remarkable impression of tree roots. The Hoh River, cloudy with glacial silt, parallels us, turning gravity into music, the ever-downhill rush to the ocean.

Then, as we cross a low ridge, the entire soundscape changes. The river drops away, and this tiny valley, Mt. Tom Meadow, seems to hold quiet like a whispering secret. With a meter the size of a paperback book, Gordon checks noise levels. The forest—wind, trees, river, two or three unseen birds calling from the underbrush—comes in at 27 A-weighted decibels (dBA) about half as loud as normal conversation level. Or, to put it more simply, the ringing in my ears is the loudest thing I hear.

We cross under a tree shaped like an upside down wishbone, tramp through mud that grabs at my boots, and then into the deeper forest along an old elk trail. And there, without any fanfare but a tiny marker placed there by Gordon himself, is the Inch.

We scatter, each staking out a bit of territory, each listening eagerly, and just as eagerly hoping to hear very little. What does true silence sound like? At first, there is only the soft noises of the three other people, all boots and Gore-tex, all trying hard not to move, not to breathe loudly, but then the longer I sit, the more I hear. The river rumbles the bass line of the landscape’s music. Birds provide the treble. A woodpecker offers percussion while I watch a translucent spider, no bigger than a match-head, work a triangular fern leaf, and mosquitoes, one of nature’s only drone sounds, zero in on my exposed skin. My breathing stills, my heartbeat slows, and I feel as if I am unfolding, becoming a part of the quietest spot in the United States.

Then the noise comes. “A big fat airplane!” in the disappointed words of a fellow hiker. The plane more than doubled the ambient sound of the Inch, and we reacted to it as a threat: drawing in, tracking the source of the sound, hunching down for cover until the last traces of engine noise finally died away and the landscape’s quiet slowly reasserted itself.

I wonder what we lose when we lose the last bit of country where our sounds—motors and electricity and the unnatural twist of sound through plastic—don’t reach, and we have no respite at all. Surely that would be a failure of national imagination, a blight on that great American dream of room for everything.

Everything, it seems, but the perfect quiet of nature.

When I leave the Inch I think about what I’ve heard in the only place where I’ve ever been that the works of man weren’t always in some way a dominant sound: rain; the river muffled by distance; wind striking notes on trees with leaves, trees with needles, or the dead-end sound of it crashing against one of the giant Sitka spruce trunks. Although the line of sight in the forest is almost nothing—every view is blocked by old-growth—I hear at distances I’m simply not accustomed to, hearing too many things I can’t identify. I’m sure that was an owl a mile or so off, but I can’t begin to name the other half-dozen species of birds that chirped and hooted and harrumphed. We have somehow turned into strictly visual creatures, forgetting that animals define their home by knowing its every sound.

But maybe even worse than the airplane is the simple fact that the entire time I was at the Inch, trying to listen to the world, what I really heard were the noises inside my own head. “When you’re in a really quiet place,” Gordon had said, “it forces you to see who you are.” Apparently who I am is someone whose mind resembles nothing so much as a bunch of clowns at a pie fight, a scene of constant noise and bustle, thoughts spewing like whipped cream.

Purple lupine frame spectacular views of the Olympic Mountain range.

Maybe my next stop, Rialto Beach, will help. Olympic National Park includes not only the mountainous interior, but also nearly the entire Pacific coastline of the state of Washington, fronting more than 3,000 square miles of open sea. Rialto is, according to Gordon, “the most musical beach in the world,” and the ocean always soothes.

From the Hoh to Rialto is less than 50 miles, but in what seems to be a recurring pattern, I make half a dozen wrong turns and get very lost. Finally, on the western edge of the continent, I am there. In front of me, a line of driftwood, from small branches to entire tree trunks, shields waves from the inland world. The dominant note is a low-pitch hum, almost industrial and constant, like a factory very far off running impossibly large machines. Wave patterns overlay the hum: three small waves followed by a larger wave that comes nearly to where my feet are dug into the sand. Finally, a sound almost too fragile for me to pick up until I’ve sat and listened for more than an hour: the purr of water pulling back over rocks like a particularly delicate wind chime.

“There’s nothing you need to learn about listening,” Gordon had said. “We’re all animals. We all know how. We’re all good listeners when we’re at our most natural.” I think about times when I have been utterly entranced by sound: listening to a musician practice a Bach suite, cello echoing; the roo-roo bark my dog makes when she’s indignant; wind howling across Iceland. And my favorite sound of all, the nearly complete silence of the woman I love sleeping.

“To listen for something is one of the worst things a person can do,” Gordon had continued. “Just open up.” And it’s true; in all of those moments, every highlight of sound I can recall from my past, I wasn’t listening, I was simply there, and that was enough.

A gull flies overhead, low enough that the thump of its wings alone seems strong enough to keep it aloft. Never mind the aerodynamics, flight must have started with this sound, the sheer muscle of wind in feather.

And taking that as a sign of hope, I head to Hurricane Ridge, about 50 miles as the crow flies northeast of Rialto but three times that distance by car. Just past Port Angeles the road turns its back on the ocean and into a different season; from the sea to the ridge the car climbs over 5,000 feet, and the temperature drops 20 degrees.

When at last I get out of the car and walk onto the ridge, a landscape covered with alpine plants only inches tall, the sound is what I hope birds experience, wind unimpeded and on its own errands occasionally deigning to come to earth and lift a raven into the air.

I don’t listen for any of it. I hike to where I see nothing but the bruise blue of distant mountains and simply hear. At least for a little while. Longer than yesterday. Longer than the day before. And that’s a hopeful thing because what the world is telling me in these sounds is that any time I remember to pay attention it will be there, singing to itself and to anybody else who wants to listen.

Michele does her wanderung these days in the foothills of the Wasatch Mountains near her Salt Lake City home. It’s about fitness, sure, but it’s also a form of release. “Out in the open spaces, hiking takes you to beautiful places,” the 57-year-old says. “It’s a walking meditation. I’m a very Type A, anxious person, and after walking an hour or two my mind wanders, and I can let all the daily issues drift off.”

Michele Straube on an Alpine tour: “I’m a very Type A person,” she says. But hiking helps her unwind.

Day hiking is a minimalist’s dream. You don’t need to learn anything, and—aside from a good pair of hiking boots—you don’t have to buy anything. Planning is a cinch: You just go when and where the spirit moves you. As for fitness, this low-impact sport also just happens to be a powerful calorie-burner—a vigorous hike consumes nearly as many calories as a 5-mph jog.

And, if you’re new to fitness, you can start slow and go at your own pace until you build up more stamina. The point of the exercise is experience, not a race to the finish. “The good thing about hiking is that you can always slow down and rest,” says Peter Olsen, spokesperson for the American Hiking Society. “If you’re not having fun because the hike is too hard, sit down and look around. That’s also when you’ll actually see things like deer and birds.”

Hiking on the Cold Spring trail near her home in Santa Barbara, California, Melissa Keyes soaks in the changing seasons, making frequent stops along the way to observe flowers and a chubby, iridescent-yellow banana slug. The air is scented with bay leaves and sage, which grow wild along the path.

Where Michele is a hiking soloist, Melissa prefers company on her excursions. She began hiking about 20 years ago with her son. “We’d discover plants and animals together,” says the 54-year-old. “It was a way to get outdoors and introduce him to nature.”

With her son now grown, Melissa hits the trail with a group of new friends she met through meetup.com. It’s a supportive cluster of fellow outdoors-types that makes newcomers feel right at home. “Our hiking group is about being all inclusive,” she says. “It doesn’t matter what your fitness level is, we make sure everyone has a good time. Hiking helps us put life in perspective.”

“I wasn’t a hiker or an outdoor person until I retired,” says Norm Kleifgen, 74, of Cumberland, Indiana. Norm got his hiking start out of sheer restlessness: “I spent my entire life in an office and didn’t want to sit around the house all day.”

He’s since become an avid bird watcher. Unless the weather is severe, Norm hits the trail seven days a week. He brings a camera, binoculars, and a notebook so he can jot down his sightings. He has several trails he likes to follow, but his favorite local hike is at Fort Harrison, a former military installation converted to a state park. There, especially in the spring months, he watches for migrating warblers along with the usual suspects—robins, cardinals, and the like. Over the years, his hobby has taken him on hikes throughout North America where he’s snapped photos of moose and bears.

For Norm, hiking is about the magic of the wildlife—but it’s also more than that. “When I’m outside, I just feel stronger,” he says.

Trail-Finders

Looking for a place to hike? The following websites are loaded with useful information.

Americantrails.org: Nonprofit dedicated to maintaining trails for hiking, bicycling, skiing, and other activities. Posts information on National Historic and National Recreation Trails as well as trail planning and facilities.

Americanhiking.org: Lists clubs throughout the country promoting foot trails and hiking experiences.

Trails.com: For $49.95, you can access maps of more than 49,000 trails, driving directions, and more.

Localhikes.com: Site lists local trails in your area complete with information on length, hike time, and difficulty—and reviews from hikers.

Trailsource.com: Find more than 1,500 trail descriptions, maps, GPS downloads, and more. Offers free information, but—for an annual fee of $29.99—you can get access to unlimited premium content and information.

And that, in a nutshell, is the deep satisfaction of bike touring. On an extended ride you slowly shed your workaday persona. You become attuned to the rhythm of the road and the beauty of your surroundings. Thanks to the slower pace, you see and feel things with a greater intensity than would ever be possible through the lens of a car window. “It’s an absolutely wonderful feeling,” says Stephen.

The Gilewskis, both 59, had never been on a bike tour nor had they ridden a substantial distance when they signed up for the trip with Bike Vermont the previous spring. “We’re not athletes by any stretch of imagination,” admits Stephen, a retired manager. “We just started riding about a year ago. To go on a bike tour, you only need to have a little experience riding a bike and be in relatively decent shape. If you’re able to go on long walks, you’re okay.”

Organized bike tours have surged in popularity in recent years, in part due to demand from the 41-to-60-year-old age group. Experience-hungry baby boomers comprise more than 40 percent of adventure travel customers—the largest single segment. Cycling tours range from spare and inexpensive self-guided tours (you get a bike, a map, and a pat on the back) to luxe guided tours with five-star accommodations. Itineraries range from grueling, month-long extravaganzas along the Tour de France route through the Alps to week-long fall-foliage tours in New England to two-hour, easy-as-pie, all-downhill coasting rides in Hawaii.

As Stephen points out, it doesn’t require a high degree of fitness to be able to join a bicyle tour. Still, most riders prefer to practice riding and build their endurance before a multi-day trip. The summer before their tour, the Gilewskis rode on the trails near their hometown of Southington, Connecticut. Their practice rides started small and built up to a peak of 30 miles. (The bike touring rule of thumb is to be comfortable riding at least 75 percent of the tour’s longest single-day ride beforehand.)

Although they were both prepared, Donna admits she was a bit concerned about finishing the 45-mile route of the tour’s longest day, particularly in the difficult terrain of the New Hampshire hills. In the end, she made it without a problem, the day seeming to breeze by like the wind across Lake Champlain. But if she’d struggled, there was an easy backup plan: Bike Vermont, like many such companies, trails its riders with a van, ready to give a lift to anyone who feels like packing it in for the day.

As a trail-rider, Donna’s other niggling fear was about road-riding with automobiles zooming past. That concern, too, dissipated as she rolled along with the highly visible pack of nine other riders. The diverse group ranged in age from people in their 30s to their 70s and included a former amateur bicycle racer as well as a couple who hadn’t ridden bikes in decades. Everyone kept up with no pressure to ride too fast, and the afternoon picnic breaks were filled with lively conversation. Stopping along the way for lunch also gave her legs a break from those hills.

The best tour companies offer a high degree of flexibility, not just in the choice of destination, but with daily options depending on energy levels or just mood. On a six-day, five-night Trek Travels tour through Italy’s Tuscany region, Madonna and Jay Williams from Hartland, Wisconsin, were offered the choice each morning to go 15, 40, or 70 miles. “If you’re an avid cyclist, you would take the long route, an okay rider could go the middle distance, and some simply rode 15 miles and still had fun,” Madonna says.

Only needing to meet up with the group for lunch, Jay and Madonna one day found themselves in a small hill town where they stopped to putter around in a family-owned ceramic store. She bought a handmade pot that she couldn’t resist and stuffed it in her saddlebag. Madonna recalls with a laugh that Jay was annoyed with her at the time, wondering why she’d insisted on buying something in the middle of nowhere. Turned out, she’d made a real find. A few months later, they happened across a travel show on television that touted that same ceramics shop as one of the best pottery producers in the world.

“We wouldn’t have found that without stopping and exploring,” Madonna says. “That’s what I love about bike tours. You ride through neighborhoods and get closer to the local culture. It’s a beautiful pace to learn about a country.”

The Tuscany excursion took place five years ago, but the Williamses were hooked. Three years later they went on another cycling vacation, this time to Spain. And this fall they are planning a picturesque bike tour from Prague to Vienna. “What better way to see the world than on two wheels?” Madonna says.

While the Williamses did most of their riding as a couple, others tour to reconnect with old friends. As a 50th birthday celebration this past autumn, Londa Dewey of Madison, Wisconsin, gathered her husband and 16 friends for a four-day bike tour of the Napa Valley. The route took them along Highway 1 and the California coast and Russian River then through towering redwood forests. And let’s not forget the wine-tasting, which, for the most part—displaying impressive discipline—they reserved for evenings.

The trip provided Londa and her circle of friends a remarkable shared experience—the occasional morning-after headaches quickly forgotten. “What’s different about a biking trip is that it’s an active vacation with flexibility built into it,” Londa recalls. “You can see the countryside, ride right next to the vineyards or sunflower fields. You’re not separated from your environment the way you are in a car or a bus.”

Londa and her friends traveled more than 100 miles by bicycle during their four-day California adventure. But like the Williamses, the Gilewskis, and so many other bike travelers, they went so much further.

North Americans have a rich bounty of shipwrecks along the reefs and shoals of the continent. Here is a sampler of easily accessible dives.

Florida Keys Shipwreck Heritage Trail

Florida Keys Shipwreck Heritage Trail. Divers and snorkelers can explore nine wrecks from Key Largo to Key West, lying in 20 to 140 feet of water. Many dote on the oldest wreck, the San Pedro, a member of the 1733 Spanish treasure fleet. It’s off Islamorada’s Indian Key in just 18 feet of water. Dives are usually less than $100 including gear. 800-352-5397; fla-keys.com.

James Bond, Thuderball, Plane Wreck

The famous James Bond wreck is in Nassau, Bahamas. Divers can see two wrecks used in Thunderball and Never Say Never Again, an old World War II landing craft, decorated with fire coral, sponges, and sea fans, and the steel skeleton of a Vulcan bomber aircraft. Dives are usually less than $150 including gear. 242-302-2000; bahamas.com .

The Royal Mail Steamer Rhone Shipwreck

The Royal Mail Steamer Rhone is the grand dive of the British Virgin Islands, off Salt Island. The ship, which went down in an 1867 hurricane, lies on a reef in 20 to 80 feet of water. It’s now encrusted with corals and sponges, and world-famous from its starring role in the film The Deep, with Jacqueline Bisset. Dives are generally less than $150 including gear. 800-835-8530; b-v-i.com.

Barbados’ Carlisle Bay Shipwrecks

Barbados’ Carlisle Bay is clogged with at least four wrecks, all close to shore. The Berwind is an easy dive, a French tug sunk in 1919, now in about 25 feet of water. Blowfish, trumpet fish, and lizard fish make the wreck home. 800-221-9831; barbados.org.

Besides the Herman H. Hettler, Smith Moore, and The Manhattan, many other wrecks lie off Au Sable Reef in Pictured Rock National Lakeshore, Lake Superior. Shipwreck Tours of Munising leads dive charters out to two wrecks, at $75 per person for a two-tank dive. Landlubbers can glide above three turn-of-the-century wooden ships, the Bermuda, the Hettler, and a mystery wreck as yet unidentified, in the company’s glass-bottom boat for $30, $12 for children 12 and younger. 906-387-5456; shipwrecktours.com.

Stay Dry in the Museums

For those who don’t like to get their feet wet, here are some great rescued wrecks and artifacts around the world.

Florida Keys History of Diving Museum in Islamorada covers every inch of dive history, from the heavy lead boots to the shiny metal helmets of early diving. Take a snapshot of the earliest underwater cameras. The museum is open daily 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Ticket price is $12 per adult, $11 per seniors, $6 per child 5-12 and free for children younger than 5. 305-664-9737; divingmuseum.org.

Mel Fisher Maritime Museum, Key West, holds one of the world’s great Spanish sunken treasures raised to the surface. For more than 15 years, Fisher, his family and his team searched for the Spanish galleons Atocha and Santa Margarita, royal treasure ships that went down in a hurricane in 1622 en route from Cuba to Spain. They found millions in emeralds, coins and gold bars, on display in Key West. The museum is open daily 8:30 a.m.-5 p.m. Mon.-Fri., 9:30 a.m.-5 p.m. weekends and holidays. Ticket price is $12 per adult; $10.50 per student, and $6 per child. 305-294-2633; melfisher.org.

Bermuda Underwater Exploration Institute covers the waterfront from the island’s pink sand to the bottom of the ocean floor. This is the place to try on scuba gear and take a simulated dive in a Nautilus X2 submersible—and survive an attack by a giant squid. Science is fun in this museum, which also has a Shipwreck Gallery, with centuries of recovered artifacts, and a Treasure Room with Spanish gold and pirate booty. The museum is open daily except Christmas, 9 a.m.- 5 p.m. Mon.-Fri., 10 a.m.-5 p.m. weekends. Ticket price is $12.50 per adult, $10 per senior, $6 per child 6-17, and free for children younger than 5. 441-292-7219; buei.org.

Mary Rose, King Henry VIII’s favorite warship, is awaiting her new $59 million museum in 2012 in Portsmouth, England. In the meantime, scores of artifacts brought up from the wreck are on display at the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard. See what Tudor tankards looked like, and the tools that the ship’s barber/physician used on the crew. The Mary Rose, built between 1509 and 1511, served proudly in King Henry’s wars, and was on her way out of Portsmouth harbor in 1545 to fight the French once again when she sank. Not until 1966 did scuba diver Alexander McKee locate the wreck in near-zero visibility. The hull was raised in 1982, and has been undergoing hydration preservation ever since. Portsmouth Historic Dockyard is open 10 a.m. daily except Dec. 24, 25 and 26; from April-October, last tickets to the attractions are sold at 4.30 p.m. and the Dockyard gates are closed at 6 p.m. From November-March, last tickets to the attractions are sold at 4 p.m. and the Dockyard gates are closed at 5.30 p.m. Ticket price for all six Dockyard attractions is $31 per adult, $26 per senior, and $22 per student and child 5-15. 44-023- 9272-8060; maryrose.org

The Vasa Museum in Stockholm is Scandinavia’s most-visited, a vast space that spotlights the world’s only surviving 17th-century ship. King Gustav II Adolf commissioned the mighty warship, which was launched in 1627. On her maiden voyage in Stockholm harbor, the Vasa heeled over and sank. In 1956, divers raised the foremast; they brought the bulk of the ship to the surface in 1961. “Face to Face” is one of the museum’s most moving exhibits, with personae created from the wreck’s 15 unidentified skeletons telling their stories from Aug. 10, 1628, the day the Vasa sank. The museum is open daily 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., until 8 p.m. on select Wednesdays. Ticket price is $16 per adult, free for children 18 and younger. 46-8-519 548 00; vasamuseet.se/en.

Diver Betsa Marsh has explored shipwrecks from the Great Lakes and Caribbean to Polynesia and Micronesia.

American Storytellers: Norman Rockwell & Mark Twain is on view through September 6 at the Mark Twain House & Museum in Hartford, CT. Organized with the help of the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Mass., the show looks into both artists’ idealized depictions of childhood, and offers a chance to get an up-close peek at a number of rarely seen Rockwells. In addition to paintings on loan from the Rockwell Museum and the New Britain Museum of American Art, the exhibit features limited-edition lithographs of Rockwell’s pencil drawings, originally commissioned by the Massachusetts Mutual Life Insurance Company in the 1950s and ’60s.

Also on view, naturally, are Rockwell’s illustrations for Twain’s Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Walking through the exhibit, it’s easy to forget, for a moment, that the writer and the artist never crossed paths in real life. In fact, the two were born nearly 60 years apart, and by the time Rockwell’s first Saturday Evening Post cover was published (in 1916, when he was 22-years-old), Twain had been dead for six years. That fact makes this in-gallery meeting of their works, and the resulting synchronicity, especially captivating.

Intrigued? Tickets to the exhibit cost $6, but are free for members of the Norman Rockwell Museum and the Mark Twain House & Museum. For directions and hours, visit the Twain Museum website.

The Upper Peninsula's Porcupine Mountains. Photo by Jeffrey Foltice, courtesy michigan.org

With two national forests, America’s first National Lakeshore, and dozens of state parks and woodlands, Michigan’s Upper Peninsula offers as many beautiful fall locales as anywhere in the U.S. Furthermore, it is one of the most isolated places in the mainland. The UP makes up one quarter of Michigan’s land area but is home to only three percent of the state’s population, making it secluded enough that visitors can enjoy natural serenity without getting overrun by “leaf peepers.” Here are some of the most notable places in the UP.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Lake Superior waves meet cliffs at the Pictured Rocks' Battleship Row.

This destination in north central UP on Lake Superior is worth visiting at any time. There are hundreds of miles of trails, sandstone cliffs, waterfalls, a seemingly endless beach, and sparkling turquoise blue water. Unlike most Great Lake beaches that are simply sandy, Pictured Rocks’ shoreline is strewn with literally billions of small rocks, each a different color, and a reminder that Superior sits on much more rocky terrain than its cousins. Spring brings a myriad of wildflowers, summers are a pleasant 70 degrees, and winter affords snowmobiling and cross country skiing opportunities.

Chapel Rock, a famed sandstone formation at Pictured Rocks. Photo by Joel Feenstra.

However, Pictured Rocks becomes positively enchanting in fall. Trees such as beech, aspen, maple, and birch put on a show each autumn, their vibrant colors complemented by a palette of evergreen, sandstone, and shimmering blue. An interesting species is the Tamarack, a deciduous conifer tree. Although this may sound like an oxymoron, it is one of only a few trees in the world that sheds needles in fall, changing from a dark evergreen to a golden yellow in the process. Due to the moderating influence of Superior, Pictured Rocks is one of the last places in the UP to experience leaf change even though it is at the northern edge, making it available later in the year. Perhaps best of all, cooler temperatures mean that fall is a time when visitors can enjoy the park without being pestered by what locals call the “UP State Bird”–the mosquito.

Waterfalls

Upper Tahquemenon Falls, the second largest waterfall east of the Mississippi.

One special thing about the UP is its unique geology. It sits at the southern edge of the Canadian Shield, a feature named because it extends from the Great Lakes all the way around the Hudson Bay into the arctic, giving it a shield-like appearance. In the last ice age, receding glaciers stripped the Shield of most of its topsoil, exposing massive quantities of bedrock. This means water doesn’t easily carve out riverbeds in the UP, but instead travels over unyielding rock. The end result: waterfalls. The UP has over 300 of them, including Tahquamenon Falls , the second largest east of the Mississippi.

Bond Falls in the western UP. Photo by Myron Reynard.

It is hard to think of a better example of nature’s beauty than a waterfall surrounded by fall foliage, and this is a sight that welcomes visitors regardless of location on the peninsula. Majestic Tahquamenon is in the east. In the west, Ottawa National Forest offers Agate Falls (see photo at top) and Bond Falls. Chapel, Sable, Munising, and Miners Falls are among over 20 waterfalls in Alger County, which is also the home of the Pictured Rocks. Eagle, Silver, and Canyon Falls await in the northern Keweenaw Peninsula, and Pemene, Rapid River, and Haymeadow Falls exist to the south.

Keweenaw Peninsula

The Northern Lights reflect off Lake Superior. Photo by Dan Urbanski, courtesy pasty.com

Keweenaw is the Upper Peninsula’s, well, upper peninsula, and its remoteness makes it consistently listed among the top places in America for leaf color road trips. Some say that it is the best place in the U.S. mainland to see another type of fall color—the aurora borealis—for a number of reasons. Keweenaw is, of course, northern. Its small population makes light pollution low. Fall brings clear night skies and one can see for miles across the lake, and it is the season when the aurora begins to pick up.

A typical autumn drive in the UP. Photo by Brenda Leigh, courtesy pasty.com

Keweenaw’s history also makes it worth a visit. It was once home to the largest copper deposit in the world, which American Indians started mining before the Egyptians built the pyramids. Occasionally, visitors stumble across the ancient hammers and tools they used. Copper really boomed in the 1800s, and historical mining ruins are everywhere. One last thing worth seeing is Brockway Mountain Drive. This scenic road travels along the Keweenaw Fault, a remnant of a billion-year-old continental rift system, and offers endless panoramic views.

Special thanks to Brody Block at Pictured Rocks, Charlie Hopper at pasty.com and the good people at michigan.org.

History Highway

The Historic National Road

In 1806 Thomas Jefferson approved federal funding for one of the first interstate road projects. Known today as the Historic National Road, it stretches 824 miles through six states, from the East Coast nearly to the Mississippi, following the modern I-70 for much of its length.

As befits the route that made the westward migration possible for thousands of settlers, the Road is strewn with sites of historical interest. From the eastern terminus near Hollins Market, the oldest of Baltimore’s public markets and centerpiece of the artsy Union Square neighborhood (market open Tuesday-Saturday; www.union-square.us), you’ll pass Casselman River Bridge State Park, as well as historic inns and tollhouses. From Maryland, the Road swings west through southern Pennsylvania, with a stop at the Fort Necessity National Battlefield, site of the first battle of the French and Indian War. The Old Petersburg Tollhouse, built from native-cut stone, still stands along the roadside.

On the National Road, Maryland's Casselman River Bridge was once the longest of its kind in the U.S.
Photo: Lardner/Klein Landscape Architects, Jim Klein

Passing through a corner of West Virginia, the Road continues into Ohio, where you can ponder the changes in American transportation at the Aviation Heritage National Historical Park in Dayton (www.aviationheritagearea.org). Cut across the entire breadth of Indiana, taking in the famous “Antique Alley”—an extensive loop encompassing more than 900 shops and dealers; it’s the ultimate destination for any fan of collectibles (www.visitrichmond.org). The Road ends in Illinois, the land of Lincoln. Leave time for visits to the Lincoln Log Cabin State Historic Site (www.lincolnlogcabin.org) as well as the Lincoln School Museum in Martinsville (open Sunday afternoons through the summer, 217-382-6666).

Tracing a Path

The Natchez Trace Parkway

Following what is perhaps the oldest continuously used travel route in the U.S., the Natchez Trace Parkway—
a 444-mile stretch of two-lane blacktop running south-
by-southwest from Nashville to the banks of the Mississippi—began as a dirt trail used by the earliest European traders and missionaries, and by local Native American tribes for centuries before that. Travel here was once so hazardous that the trail was called “The Devil’s Backbone.” Today, the Parkway offers the natural beauty 
and rich cultural heritage of the South. Note: Because it sits on mostly high ground, only a few areas of the Parkway were impacted by the flood waters that hit the Nashville area earlier this year. While the entire Parkway is expected to be passable by summer, it’s always a good idea to call ahead and confirm your itinerary.

Also known as "Nutt&rquo;s Folley," the octagonal mansion at Natchez&rquo;s Longwood Plantation was never completed due to a turn of fortune.
Photo by Dennis Adams

On the Parkway, two wheels are as good as four, as the entire road is a designated bicycling area. Along the way, there’s boating and fishing at Laurel Hill Lake in Lawrenceville, Tennessee (931-762-7200), and hiking, camping, and nature trails at Tishomingo State Park in Mississippi (662-438-6914). Or simply stop to smell the wildflowers tracing the trail.

The Parkway is rich in Native American historical sites. In Tupelo you will find the ceremonial Emerald Mound, the Grand Village of the Natchez, and the Chickasaw Village and Fort. You can also pay homage to “the King” at the Elvis Presley Birthplace (www.elvispresleybirthplace.com).

At the Mississippi Crafts Center in Ridgeland, you’ll find artwork and housewares from regional crafters working in traditional and contemporary forms (www.mscrafts.org). Finally, surrender to the charms of old Natchez and view gracious antebellum homes in the city’s historic district (www.natchezms.com).

Rolling on the River

Great River Road National Scenic Byway

The mighty Mississippi is, in a way, the original interstate highway, used for ages to transport goods and passengers downriver. Trace that epic path on the Great River Road National Scenic Byway—a route following the course of the Mississippi through 10 states and over 2,000 miles, from the headwaters to the delta, from St. Paul to New Orleans, straight through the heart of America.

Spend a week or two following Old Man River downstream—through Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, and finally, Louisiana—and you’ll sample a great swathe of the American experience. Along with unparalleled views of the “Father of Waters,” there are ample stops for bird and wildlife watching, outdoor recreation, shopping, historical sightseeing, and more.

Beautiful old cypress trees surround a natural fish hatchery at Reelfoot Lake State park in Tiptonville, Tennessee.
Photo by Amie Vanderford.

Music runs deep along the river, and many festivals and performance series are held along the route, from Wisconsin’s Riverfest (June 30-July 4, www.riverfestlacrosse.com), presenting dozens of musical groups on six stages, to the annual blues and jazz fests in Davenport, Iowa; from the St. Louis Municipal Opera—this year featuring live outdoor performances of Beauty and the Beast, The Sound of Music, Damn Yankees, and more—to the renowned jazz clubs of New Orleans (www.riverroads.com).

Riding with the Rail-Splitter

The Lincoln Highway, dedicated in 1913, originally ran from New York’s Times Square to San Francisco’s Lincoln Park. Once known as “America’s Main Street,” most of the original route has long since been decommissioned or assimilated into other, newer highways. But a stretch of the original alignment still runs through northern Illinois, from the Chicago metro area to the Mississippi River. Redesignated as a national scenic byway, the 179-mile Illinois Lincoln Highway now makes a perfect weekend jaunt.

Blackhawk Statue
© July 2002 Illinois Lincoln Highway Coalition

Along the Highway, wander the tree-lined streets of Geneva, still graced by Federal-era homes as well as quaint shops in the still-vibrant downtown section (www.genevadowntown.org). Prefer outdoor recreation? Play a few holes at one of the half-dozen golf courses scattered along the Highway, or enjoy hiking, fishing, or touring a historic grist mill at Franklin Creek Natural Area (www.franklingroveil.org). Take in sights such as the majestic Black Hawk statue towering above the Rock River, where paddle-wheeler riverboats still ply the waters (cruises run April through November: www.oregonil.com). Or learn about one of the iconic names in American industry at the John Deere Historic Site, where the great blacksmith perfected “the plow that broke the plains” (Grand Detour, Illinois, 815-652-4551).

Wherever you stop along the way, keep an eye out for the original mile markers. To prove the project’s viability—and the advantages of paved roads, at a time when the concept was still a novel one—the Lincoln Highway was first paved in short stretches called “seedling miles,” which are marked by commemorative signs (www.drivelincolnhighway.com).

Road to Ruins

Car travel is a great way to get from place to place. But an expedition on the Trail of the Ancients—which runs through parts of Colorado and Utah—is a trip back in time. That’s because the Trail is dotted with some of the oldest and best-preserved Native American archeological sites in the entire country. Take a week roaming the Trail’s 480 miles, and catch a glimpse of this corner of America as it was before the coming of Europeans. In Mesa Verde National Park alone, hundreds of cliff dwellings are little changed with the passage of centuries (www.visitmesaverde.com). At the nearby Anasazi Heritage Center in Dolores, Colorado, history comes alive with interactive exhibits, hands-on activities, and live demonstrations of tribal lifeways (970-882-5600). Walk in the footsteps of the Ancestral Puebloan people at Edge of the Cedars State Park and Museum in Blanding, Utah (closed Sundays: www.stateparks.utah.gov), exploring the ruins of an ancient settlement.

Mesa Verde dwellings
© 2006 John Mocko

Farther along the Trail, you’ll find some of the most stunning and iconic scenery in the Southwest. The soaring sandstone buttes of Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park (www.navajonationparks.org) are familiar from dozens of Hollywood Westerns; about 30 miles to the northeast, the lesser-known Valley of the Gods offers vistas less familiar but no less ravishing. Leave time for a rafting trip on the San Juan River, booked through Wild Rivers Expeditions (800-422-7654 or www.riversandruins.com). End your journey at Four Corners Monument, the only spot in the U.S. where you can stand in four states at once. (At press time, the park was scheduled to reopen in June, 928-871-6647.)

To plan a complete itinerary, explore the National Scenic Byways Project at www.byways.org.

For more inspiring trips, including the Historic National Road, the Natchez Trace Parkway, and the Great River Road National Scenic Byway, look for the Jul/Aug 2010 issue of The Saturday Evening Post (on newsstands the first week of July) or subscribe here.

“On the flight home, I kept thinking about that train,” says McCommons, who teaches journalism at Northern Michigan University. “When are we going to have a decent passenger-rail system in this country again, one that moves people efficiently between major cities and provides Americans with a true alternative to airplanes and automobiles?” To answer that question, McCommons spent a year riding on and writing about America’s trains. He shares insights from his journey in the May/June cover story of The Saturday Evening Post, and also in his book, Waiting on a Train available for purchase from publisher Chelsea Green.

You can view more images in our gallery.

The Midwest

Photo by Robert Quick/Courtesy Olbrich Botanical Gardens

Olbrich Botanical Gardens (Wisconsin) Olbrich Botanical Gardens (OBG), located near the University of Wisconsin in Madison, is among the Midwest’s best-kept secrets. It has earned awards in fields ranging from solid architecture to inspirational value. In 2005, it won American Public Garden Association’s National Award for Excellence, an honor given to only one garden a year. Outside, OBG features free admission to 16 acres of captivating areas like the sunken, shade, and rain gardens. Indoors, Bolz Conservatory makes this northern destination great to see year round, with exotic plants, waterfalls, free flying birds and more. OBG is a model in sustainable gardening, responsibly implementing smart water usage, natural insect control, composting and more. www.olbrich.org

Missouri Botanical Gardens' Climatron with artwork by Dale Chihuly/Wikimedia Commons

Missouri Botanical Garden (Missouri) St. Louis is home to one of the US’s best and oldest botanical gardens – Missouri Botanical Garden (MBG). It recently celebrated its 150th birthday, is a National Historic Landmark and is a global leader in plant science and conservation. MBG offers thematic gardens ranging from English Woodland to Chinese. A signature area is the Spink Pavilion, which features a reflection pool with floating sculptures by legendary glass artist Chihuly. Climatron Conservatory serves as the pool’s backdrop and houses over 1,400 plant and animal species. Behind the scenes, MBG is a major plant information center. Its herbarium oversees global research projects and has over 6 million mounted plant specimens, it operates tropicos.org (the largest online plant database) and is home to multiple conservation centers, making it a true environmental leader. www.mobot.org

Photo by Jim Munson/Courtesy HLG Files

Hidden Lake Gardens (Michigan) Hidden Lake Gardens (HLG), which is operated by Michigan State University, is a 755-acre ode to the four seasons. The essence of year-round nature is captured here, making it a place worth a visit any time. A main attraction is the Benedict Hosta Collection (or “Hosta Hillside”), where over 800 varieties of the plant reside, including Michigan’s own “Hosta Hybridizers.” The Harper Collection of Dwarf and Rare Conifers, miles of trails and of course the Hidden Lake itself all add to the appeal. HLG’s conservatory is home to a Bonsai “forest” with dozens of the miniature trees capturing the imagination of visitors. hiddenlakegardens.msu.edu

Monument to a Tree/Courtesy Toledo Botanical Garden

Toledo Botanical Garden (Ohio) People like some things universally: pretty landscapes; free things; centers of culture and knowledge. Considering Toledo Botanical Garden (TBG) is all of these, it’s no surprise that over 120,000 come see it every year. TBG is free to the public and offers over 15 thematic areas. A real emphasis is placed on balancing art with nature and, in places like the aquatic, shade, and color gardens, harmony is achieved. Another emphasis is on culture. TBG is home to 19 garden, art, and nature groups and hosts work from over 230 artists during the Crosby Festival of the Arts. Additionally, youth benefit from its educational programs, science benefits from a research partnership with the USDA, and the city benefits from “Toledo GROWs,” a gardening outreach program. www.toledogarden.org

The Northwest

Vancouver Island's Butchart Gardens (Wikimedia Commons)

Vancouver Island Garden Trail (British Columbia) Roughly 50 miles from the city of Vancouver off the coast of Canada, Vancouver Island is nature at its most untamed. Home to several Canadian national parks, people come for the untouched mountain terrain and wildlife. Yet, in the wilderness lies a group of cultivated gardens that rival any. The Vancouver Island Garden Trail is several gardens, ranging from less than an acre to grand estates. The temperate coastal climate allows an array of flora not normally found this far north and different plants take turns putting on a color show each season. Fall brings vibrant leaf change; winter provides the stark contrast of snow on evergreen; spring and summer mean the entire wildflower color spectrum. The best way to tour is to ferry from the coast, rent a car and travel at your leisure. Each garden presents unique atmospheres, from small, quaint Ronning’s Garden to large, exquisite Butchart Gardens. www.vancouverislandgardentrail.com

International Peace Garden

International Peace Garden (North Dakota) Because of this 2,339-acre garden dedicated as a symbol of friendship by the U.S. and Canada in 1932, North Dakota is known as the “Peace Garden State.” It is a favorite destination for citizens of both countries, as well as people the world over. Friendly international relations is a resonating theme – there is an entrance from both sides, and the Maple Leaf and Stars and Stripes are depicted side by side in floral gardens. The Peace Poles project, founded in Japan and dedicated to world peace, has seven poles here that say “may peace prevail on Earth” in 28 different languages. Other features include the Cairn (a border marker made of aboriginal hammerheads from the area), a floral clock, the Peace Tower and the Peace Chapel. A special site is the 9/11 Memorial, where 10 girders collected from the twin tower wreckage help us understand, forgive and grow from the tragedy. www.peacegarden.com

You can see more images by viewing our gallery. You can also check out our first installment, America’s Best Botanical Gardens, Part 1: The West

The South

Wikimedia Commons

Atlanta Botanical Garden (Georgia) Most gardens ask visitors not to step in flowerbeds. In the Atlanta Botanical Garden, they warn you. This is because it has one of the largest carnivorous plant collections around, making it a place where guests with poor manners learn the hard way. In reality, these plants are no threat to anything larger than a bug (or the occasional mouse or frog), but they are very cool. They capture prey in a variety of ways- from snapping shut to pitfall traps- and fascinate visitors of all ages. There are of course other attractions, like the Rose, Rock, and Southern Seasons gardens. The Fuqua Orchid Center houses lots of the flowers, and the Center for Conservation and Education does just that. For a special treat, visit after dark. www.atlantabotanicalgarden.org

Courtesy Fairchild Botanical Gardens

Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden (Florida) Florida is home to the greatest tropical plant center in mainland U.S.- the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden (FTBG). Named for David Fairchild, who traveled every habitable continent studying plants, it is a global conservation leader. FTBG’s 83 acres harbor over 4,000 plant species. Thematic areas include the National Palm Collection (the world’s greatest living collection of palms and cycads), Simons Rainforest, and Whitman Tropical Fruit Pavilion. Events like the Chocolate, Orchid and International Mango festivals add to the appeal. FTBG’s conservation efforts extend beyond its grounds. It oversees research, development and renovation projects in over 20 countries. More than 150 classes are taught here, including graduate courses for tomorrow’s conservationists. www.fairchildgarden.org

Courtesy of the Dallas Arboretum

Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden (Texas) Plants have unique challenges in North Texas – searing summer heat; severe winter temperature drops; drought possibility all year. The Dallas Arboretum (DA) meets this climatic challenge, maintaining a model in regional gardening excellence. The garden’s relative youth (founded 1982) has been key in its success. Planners used modern information to select flora that endure and thrive in the harsh conditions. Today, DA is a leader in climate-specific plant knowledge and operates trial gardens to provide private plant companies info. In spring, DA puts on two signature events. In “Dallas Blooms,” 500,000 bulbs create the South’s largest floral display. In Artscape, artists show photos, jewelry, woodwork, and more. www.dallasarboretum.org

The Northeast

Photo by T. Kates / Courtesy of The Trustees of Reservations

Mytoi Gardens (Massachusetts) Located in Martha’s Vineyard, one of the most scenic locales in the U.S., the Mytoi Gardens are a sight to behold. Here, the pristine beauty of the Massachusetts coastal island seems to be captured and amplified with a Japanese twist. Guests enjoy tranquility and self-reflection during their visit to Mytoi, which includes a camellia dell, stone garden, and pine grove. All of these center around the signature feature: a reflection pond and island accessible by elevated bridge. Mytoi is free to the public, making it an easily accessible and affordable item on any Martha’s Vineyard travel itinerary. A hurricane destroyed much of it in 1991, and the Trustees of Reservations charitable organization has restored and maintained it for everyone since. www.thetrustees.org/places-to-visit/cape-cod-islands/mytoi.html

(Wikimedia Commons)

Brooklyn Botanical Garden (New York) This 52-acre “living museum,” located smack dab in the middle of Brooklyn, makes visitors rethink what an “urban jungle” is. Over 700,000 come annually to see the Brooklyn Botanical Garden, which celebrates its centennial in 2010 and is home to 11,000 plant species and several specialty areas. The cherry orchard is a famed destination during Hanami, the Japanese holiday for cherry-blossom season. An enchanting landscape takes center stage during this event- hundreds of  cherry trees bloom overhead and millions of fallen petals carpet the path below- while Japanese culture is shared with all. Other thematic areas include a Rose Garden, Conservatory, and Fragrance Garden. Year round art shows, tours and plant sales, and programs like the Chili Pepper Fiesta and Street Tree Stewardship Initiative, make this botanical garden world-class. www.bbg.org

“Ordinary people, living their everyday lives can create extraordinary history,” said Spencer R. Crew, director of the National Museum of American History. “This exhibition will inspire our visitors to look at history in a new way, a history that begins at home,” he added.

The exhibition is sponsored by the National Association of Realtors®. “This truly is a historic event for NAR to be able to bring “Within These Walls…” to millions of visitors, said NAR President Richard A. Mendenhall.

The exhibition’s curatorial team researched nearly 100 occupants who once lived in the house. Their stories show some of the ways Americans have made history in their kitchens and parlors. Inside this house, American Colonists created a new genteel lifestyle, patriots set out to fight the Revolution, and an African-American struggled for freedom. Neighbors came together to end slavery, immigrants made a new home and earned a livelihood, and a woman and her grandson served on the home front during World War II.

For more details, visit the exhibition Web site. Curious about your own home? Read “House Detective: Finding History in Your Home.”

Photos courtesy of the National Museum of American History.

Ageless St. Augustine Bonus
(Bonus material from “Ageless St. Augustine,” in the Jan/Feb 2010 issue of The Saturday Evening Post. Click here to subscribe or buy the issue online at ShopThePost.com.)

The Kessler calamari at 95 Cordova in the Casa Monica Hotel is so popular that the restaurant plans to sell it in go-cups for travelers wandering the streets. Even nonsquid lovers fall for this semolina-crusted version, served with a Moroccan pesto of sweet olives, tomatoes, and asiago cheese. “We haven’t convinced them to let us walk and drink here like you can in New Orleans and Key West,” said Casa Monica’s Joni Dooley Barkley, “but we can walk and eat.”

For dessert, there’s Key Lime Pie in every possible permutation, but for my calories, I’ll take Claude’s Chocolate. Former New Yorkers Claude Franques and his wife, Nicole, have gotten into the Southern groove, making little white chocolate mimosas, flavored with orange and champagne, and pandering to University of Florida fans with dark chocolate gators.

However, there are scarier things than gators in St. Augustine. All you need to feel a chill up your spine is to eavesdrop on the locals. The Casa Monica Hotel and adjoining condos were built on an old Indian burial ground, they say, and were so haunted that the new owners called in ghostbusters from England.

Henry Flagler, the Standard Oil magnate who transformed Florida with grandiose hotels and railroads, died in 1913 and was lying in state in the rotunda of the building that is now his namesake college. Local legend holds that during the service, the casket lid slammed down, a puff of smoke flew up to the top of the dome, flashed down like lightning and seared a portrait of the man himself in one of the inch-square floor tiles. Just ask a local where to look in this sea of mosaics.

The St. Augustine Lighthouse, recently restored, has its own tales to tell. It’s a huff-and-puff climb up 219 stairs. (Just imagine being a keeper carrying 30-pound buckets of hot pig lard up to fuel the flame.)

Tragically, three little girls were killed during the lighthouse construction when they hopped into a railroad car for a ride and couldn’t stop it before it dumped them into the waves.

In the 136 years since, ghosts seem to have stacked up upon themselves at the lighthouse. When the SciFi Channel’s Ghost Hunters came to tape, they saw faces leaning over the stair landings and tracked plenty of psychic activity.

But you can hardly blame spirits for haunting St. Augustine. I didn’t want to leave either.

To make the most out of your St. Augustine getaway, check out the links below.

Art Galleries
Attractions
Bed and Breakfast Inns
Campgrounds
Events
Hotels

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It seems appropriate: Christmas candles have been glowing here every season since 1895, when Vanderbilt first occupied Biltmore House two months before the holidays, and on Christmas Eve held a festive party with gentlemen guests dressed in white tie and tails, ladies in full-length ball gowns.

While I’d visited the estate as a teenager and again as an adult, my wife had never been. Walking toward the house, our tracks trailed behind us in the snow. In the twilight, the surrounding landscape hinted of vast forests and distant rivers — 8,000 acres in all. The estate includes River Bend Farm with an assortment of goats, chickens, and horses roaming freely in the barnyard; an award-winning winery; a deer park; a river for rafting; winding drives; and the 213-room four-star Inn on Biltmore Estate.

Holiday goodies abound at Biltmore Shops
Photo courtesy of The Biltmore Company

As a young man of 25, Vanderbilt chose this locale in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Asheville, North Carolina, following a visit with his mother. His original purchase was 125,000 acres, a parcel three times the size of the District of Columbia. The mansion took him some six years to build.

At the entrance to the property lies a Tudor village, built to house the workers who constructed Biltmore House. Today Biltmore Village is a trendy district offering chic boutiques, sidewalk cafes, and antique shops. The house itself opened to the public for the first time in 1930. Today, 1,800 employees attend to the estate’s upkeep. As we strolled toward the house, I took in its magnificent stone architecture, a French Renaissance chateau design by Richard Morris Hunt. Topped with hunched gargoyles and a steeply pitched roof, it looks as impressive now as it did in movies such as The Swan with Grace Kelly and Being There with Peter Sellers. Biltmore House has six levels: four floors plus a basement and sub-basement. The Banquet Hall rises 70 feet high.

The mammoth entrance is manned by ticket takers, for today Biltmore House is a commercial enterprise that welcomes more than 1 million visitors a year. Docents hand out earphones for an audio tour hosted by Bill Cecil, Vanderbilt’s great-grandson. The family still owns the property, with Cecil serving as president and CEO.
Just off of the Entrance Hall, the tour begins in the Winter Garden Room, a glass-ceiling solarium that, tonight, is festooned with lights. Ballroom dancers in period costumes twirl around the circular room, a festive touch for the season. Making our way to the vast Banquet Hall, we encountered the pièce de résistance, a 35-foot Christmas tree that lords over the room, pointing toward the seven-story-tall ceiling, next to the twin chandeliers and a magnificent pipe organ that is playing carols. Each November, two big Clydesdale horses pull an enormous Fraser fir to the house, taking it into the Entrance Hall and around the Winter Garden, past carved friezes of Greeks on horseback, before squeezing into the portal to the Banquet Hall. The massive stone pillars here bear the scrapings of branches being pulled through year after year.

From here we explore a Tapestry Room and book-lined Library, decorated with treasures from around the world, including Napoleon’s personal chess set, just in front of the giant stone fireplace. More than 10,000 volumes in eight languages attest to a contemporary newspaper’s claim that Vanderbilt was “the best read man in the country.”

The grounds of Biltmore House were the last grand project of famed landscaper Frederick Law Olmsted. Formal gardens cover more than 75 acres in all.
Photo courtesy of The Biltmore Company

Upstairs visitors will find 33 bedrooms, sitting rooms, and guest quarters, as well as four never-before-seen rooms to explore. In a newly opened Louis XV Suite, we found a feather tree with tabletop trees in crystal and gold and heavy garlands surrounded the fireplaces.
Floral display manager Cathy Barnhardt and her staff work all year planning the holiday event. Every room is decorated as if awaiting holiday guests. Outside, to the left of the House, there are several gardens and a Conservatory.
Later we enjoyed a Christmas dinner at the Stable Café, one of five restaurants and grills on the property. As the name suggests, this one occupies the old stable building. Its surroundings have been transformed into a shopping experience offering an array of small stores.

The Carriage House Shop features teapots and lamps and jewelry and Biltmore-brand salad dressings — not to mention wines bottled on the estate.

A confectionery shop offers mountain taffy, French chews, white chocolate champagne balls, and milk chocolate cherry cordials.

I lingered in the tiny Toymaker’s Shop, a cornucopia of teddy bears, rocking horses, and monkeys on a swing. In addition to the stuffed animals, storybooks, and iron blacksmith’s puzzles, there were turn-of-the-century Biltmore dolls, eye-dazzling kaleidoscopes, and hand-carved spinning tops.

There’s even a shop called A Christmas Past that sells holiday decorations: Father Christmases, Nativities, angels, and toy soldiers. Poinsettias, wreaths, and fat snowmen surround the room, imbuing it with a genuine sense of holiday cheer.

Even in winter, strolls on the vast estate are popular.
Photo courtesy of The Biltmore Company

As we took the shuttle back to the parking area, driving the winding roads through the snow-covered night toward the stone archway that marks the entrance (and exit) to the Biltmore Estate, I couldn’t help thinking about the live reading we’d heard on the third floor earlier that evening, the story of “The Little Match Girl.” Her tiny flames were nothing compared to the candles flickering throughout the mighty mansion; her poverty a contrast to the lavish lifestyle on display. But the last line of the story came to mind: “No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, and how happily she had gone … into the bright New Year.”

We enjoyed our visit and saw many beautiful things. A visit to Biltmore House during the Christmas season is a journey into the extravagant past, a time when moneyed families led a palatial existence. And today you can share that grandeur. At least for one candlelit, snowy night.

First Night Boston (Boston)

While there are countless venues that celebrate New Year’s Eve in style, the venues are not always family-friendly. In Boston, one tradition keeps New Year’s entertaining and enjoyable, sans the alcohol-induced shenanigans.

First Night Boston was started in 1976 by a group of local artists and citizens looking to create an alternative to customary New Year’s activities. Three decades later, the event is going strong. Run by the nonprofit First Night, Inc., the event is funded through the sale of $18-buttons that serve as a badge of honor to those who support the Boston arts community and act as an admission ticket to numerous events. In 2009, patrons of First Night witnessed ethnic dancing, live music (from saxophone quartets to African drummers), visual art exhibits, puppet shows, and a circus. The goal is to foster the creativity that has made Boston one of the country’s most interesting cities.

When: December 31-January 1, 2009
Where: Boston, MA
Website: First Night Boston

North Pole Christmas in Ice (Alaska)

An ice-carved angel herald sculpture. Courtesy of North Pole Christmas in Ice

The city of North Pole, Alaska, is home to one of the coolest Christmas festivals in America (pun intended). During the city’s “Christmas in Ice” event, the world’s greatest ice sculptors create a frozen wonderland perfectly suited to a town called North Pole.

Putting on the event is no easy task. Ice sculpture in and of itself is a challenge—arguably the most fragile art form in the world. And while the North Pole’s location (near Fairbanks in mainland Alaska) makes it ideal for the frosty art form, harsh winter conditions can present extreme obstacles. Cold snaps where the temperature dips below -40° F for days on end are not uncommon in the Alaska Interior. Even the simple task of getting from point A to point B can be a hard-won feat.

The difficulty offers clues as to why we host festivals in the first place. No matter how harsh the conditions are or how tough the daily grind, we love festivals because they quite simply cheer us up. Ice is an inescapable fact of life in North Pole. Why not celebrate it? The Christmas in Ice event deserves special respect because amid some of the harshest conditions on Earth, the festival brings a smile to the faces of those who know the meaning of the word survival.

The end result? Multifaceted works of ice art. More than a thing of beauty, however, ice becomes an entertaining mode of transportation on ice slides, which range from kid-sized to 100 feet long, and even more fun awaits at the entrance of this year’s ice maze.

When: December 5-January 3, 2009
Where: North Pole, Alaska
Website: Christmas in Ice

National Potato Latke Eating Contest (TBA, NY)

Courtesy of Association of Independent Competitive Eaters

Chanukah is a holiday with many great traditions. It is known as “The Festival of Lights” because of the Hanukiah, a special type of Menorah that is, perhaps more than anything, emblematic of the Jewish faith as a whole. Dreidel, the ancient game that combines the physics of a spinning top with the luck of gambling, makes its annual appearance this time of year. And, of course, the tradition of exchanging gifts occurs on each of the holiday’s eight nights. The tastiest Chanukah tradition, however, is the latke. This delicacy is comprised of potatoes, onions, and a secret ingredient known as schmaltz and is a special treat that Jewish people look forward to all year. During the National Potato Latke Eating Competition, contestants from all over the world indulge themselves in a feast of epic proportions.

Latkes are served by the hundreds during the fierce gastronomical battle, and contestants mean business—last year’s winner, “Furious” Pete Czerwinski, set a world record by eating 46 latkes (equal to about seven pounds of potatoes) in eight minutes. Can he  defend his crown? “Furious” Pete will face off against such legendary food warriors as Elizabeth “Rubber-Gut” Canady and Mark “The Human Vacuum” Lyle, both of whom have participated in years past. Of course, up-and-comers hungry for a piece of golden-brown fried potato glory this year could take home the crown as well. Although this event has been marred by controversy (Phil “Clowny Chompers” Teglia was caught stuffing latkes in his pocket in 2007, an illegal performance-enhancing technique), the atmosphere should be sizzling in 2009. For more information, visit Zan’s Deli or The Association of Independent Competitive Eaters

When: TBD
Where: New York
Website: Zan’s Deli

Day of the Dead (Oaxaca, Mexico)

Courtesy Oaxaca Ministry of Tourism.

The Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos) in its current form is the product of a cultural clash. Ancient Aztecs viewed life as a dream; only in death did one become awake. This festival honored what they viewed as the completion of the life cycle. When the Spanish conquistadors saw the ancient practice, they viewed the practice as sacrilegious paganism. However, try as they might, the Spaniards were not able to stop the annual event. Eventually, the celebration was moved to November 1 (All Saints’ Day) and November 2 (All Souls’ Day), in an effort to convert the indigenous people to Catholicism. It is still celebrated on these dates today, and has become an exotic blend of ancient rituals and Christian theology.

One of the best places to experience Dia de los Muertos is Oaxaca, Mexico. The highlight of the event occurs after nightfall, when city streets are crowded with people celebrating the deceased. Many don wooden skulls called calacas—a throwback to Aztec tradition, and almost all wear unique costumes. The sound of trumpets, the movement of dancing, the sight of vibrant costume colors, and the emotion of merrymaking signal a night of celebration. During the day, shop windows showcase skeleton figurines called calaveras, which depict people of all professions fulfilling the same activities as when they were alive. Street vendors sell skull-shaped candy; flowers from the countryside; special bread known as pan de yema; and homemade altar candles. TCountryside traditions are equally interesting. Families visit loved ones’ graves, bringing food and music for the enjoyment of living and dead alike, and each small town touts unique traditions. Whether in the bustling city or the quaint countryside, visitors to Oaxaca will enjoy a cultural experience unlike any other. For more information, visit the Oaxaca Secretary of Tourism website.

When: November 1 & 2, 2009
Where: Oaxaca, Mexico
Website: Day of the Dead

Natchitoches Christmas Festival of Lights (Louisiana)

Courtesy of Natchitoches Area Convention & Visitors Bureau

Palm trees adorned with Christmas lights in Hawaii, decorative boat parades in Florida, Christmas caroling in New England—American holiday celebrations are as diverse as the “melting-pot” itself.

Consider Natchitoches, Louisiana, where the Christmas spirit comes alive with a bayou twist. This year marks the 83rd year that Natchitoches (pronounced nak-i-tosh) has put on its annual Christmas bash—the longest-running Christmas festival in Louisiana. Visitors enjoy holidays with some southern hospitality. The whole event began as a byproduct of the American innovation that shaped the 20th century. In 1926 Max Burgdof, the man who installed the first electric generators in Natchitoches, decided that stringing up Christmas lights along Front Street would make an excellent Christmas gift to town citizens. Ever since, people from Natchitoches and surrounding communities have come to witness the lights switch on. Beginning in the ’30s, visitors also came to enjoy the sight of fireworks and their reflection on Cane River Lake. Nearby Cane River Creole National Historic Park complements the festivities—adding to the parades, historic tours, lighted barges, pageants, and contests—with special events of its own. Natchitoches is right in the heart of Cajun country, and as one would expect first-class food abounds. The town even has its own contribution to international cuisine—the world renowned Natchitoches Meat Pie is made especially for this all-American festival.

When: November 21-January 6, 2009
Where: Louisiana
Website: Natchitoches Christmas Festival of Lights

Chinese New Year (San Francisco, California)

Photo by Knight Lights Photography. Courtesy Southwest Airlines Chinese New Years Parade

Traditionally celebrated with colorful parades, unforgettable foods, entertaining carnivals, and more, the Chinese New Year is a visually stunning, tastebud-pleasing occasion. The holiday is based on a lunar calendar, so the date varies from year to year. It falls on February 14 in 2010, and cities across the world will bring in the Year of the Tiger in their own unique way. Perhaps the best place to experience this cultural festival on a grand scale, however, is San Francisco.

Because the city has such a large Chinese population (it boasts the largest Chinatown in the U.S., about one-fifth of the population is of Chinese descent), the Chinese New Year is unquestionably a big deal. In fact, this festival is considered the largest celebration of Asian culture outside of Asia and has been a San Francisco tradition since 1860. The celebration is as much a part of the city’s heritage as crab cakes.

The festival kicks off with a flower market fair where vendors sell food, fruits, and, of course, flowers. Many Chinese households keep live blooming plants to symbolize the new growth and regeneration of the New Year. While festivities include a 10k run, Miss Chinatown Pageant, and community fair, the highlight of the celebration is the parade. Chinese acrobats, lion dancers, stilt walkers, and an assortment of floats explode onto the streets, showcasing the finest entertainment with authentic Asian flare. The procession ends with the 200-foot-long “Golden Dragon” carried by 100 members of the White Crane Martial Arts group and accompanied with over 600,000 fireworks.

When: February 6-28
Where: San Francisco, California
Website: Chinese New Year Parade

Rock City Enchanted Garden of Lights (Georgia)

Courtesy of Doug Barnette Photography

Located about six miles from downtown Chattanooga, Tennessee, Georgia’s Lookout Mountain is always a visual treat, regardless of the season. Features like Ruby Falls (the tallest underground waterfall in the U.S.), Rock City Gardens (a 4,100-foot-trail showcasing the best of the mountain scenery), and Needle’s Eye (one of many stunning rock formations) make Rock City an American landmark.

And the destination becomes truly special during Yule. In 2009, the city celebrates the 15th anniversary of the “Rock City Enchanted Garden of Lights”—a month-and-a-half-long extravaganza where the natural beauty of the mountain is complemented with a one-of-a-kind light display. More than 1 million Christmas lights illuminate the famed Rock City trail every night except Christmas Eve during this award-winning event.

When: November 20-January 2, 2009
Where: Rock City, Georgia
Website: Rock City Enchanted Garden of Lights