If there’s one travel thing I splurge on each year, it’s amazing hotel stays. I’ve no regrets, because they so often make for a next-level vacation.

This year ���ϳԹ��� sent me and some of our other travel writers and editors to check out new, recently revamped, or iconic properties that have been on our radar. Talk about unique adventuring in gorgeous locations—one is in a deep red-rock canyon, another in a secluded dark-sky area, and still another has its own private entrance to a national park.

These are the places that blew us away. We’d return to any of them again.

Enchantment Resort

Sedona, Arizona

Price: From $400

Set amid the stupefying red-rock wonder that is Boynton Canyon, one of four major vortex sites in Sedona, my fall stay at Enchantment was emotional but also grounding. I hiked with one of the resort’s vortex experts, whose sage ceremony at a viewpoint overlooking the high-desert landscape made me feel lighter than I had in months. And my chakra-balancing treatment and sound bath at the guests-only Mii Amo spa were as fantastically spiritual and woo-woo as I hoped they’d be.

You could easily spend four days hiking or mountain-biking around Sedona. The property’s on-site Trail House is home to equipment and guides for both, and staff can organize far-flung excursions to the Grand Canyon in a helicopter and Prescott for climbing adventures, if your time and budget allow.

The resort’s Southwestern adobe architecture is designed to blend into the surrounding scenery, the indoor-outdoor restaurants are upscale but not stuffy, and the range of outdoor activities and classes is impressive: pop between its four pools, play tennis or pickleball, or sign up for yoga or . Staff are incredibly friendly, which is to be expected at destination resorts, but one thing that really stood out for me.

Of all the trips I took in 2024, my memories of this property have stayed with me most. And since my review came out, I’ve received feedback from other guests who shared similarly moving experiences at Enchantment. It’s that powerful a place.

What I’d do differently if I returned: I wanted to head to one of the pools late at night and float around staring up at the stars, since Sedona is a Dark Sky Community. But the hiking and spa treatments had me fairly worn out by day’s end—and sleeping soundly through the night.

Clear Sky Resorts Bryce Canyon

Cannonville, Utah

Price: From $525

When Alison Osius visited this new Clear Sky Resort in August, she was ready to spend hours admiring the starry skies—the main draw for guests who look forward to gazing up at the firmament from their own geodesic dome. Unfortunately, it rained during her short stay.

But Osius didn’t let bad weather dampen her exploration of Bryce Canyon National Park, just a 20-minute drive from the property. She motored around the park with a fourth-generation guide, hitting highlights like Natural Arch and the Bryce Amphitheater, both beautifully shrouded in mist, and got a hoot out of hearing about local escapades of legendary outlaw Butch Cassidy. Eventually, the clouds did clear and she was able to hike the 1.8-mile .

Clear Sky has some unique amenities, including a robot concierge who offers outdoor-recreation beta, a café with a gleaming boomerang-shaped bar, fire pits and cornhole, and stargazing tours. The domes themselves are fun, futuristic, and encourage group visits. Osius was surprised to learn that one has a dance floor, disco ball, and flashing lights.

Off-site, she was won over by the barbecue in a joint called in the town of Tropic, and loved the live cowboy music at in Bryce Canyon City. Her vacation gave her different viewpoints of the West and an appreciation of this area’s otherworldly landcapes, which include the greatest concentration of hoodoos in the world.

What Osius would do differently if she returned: A second visit would ideally happen when the stars were out and shining, said Osius, though she did think it was cool to watch rivulets of rain run down her dome. And the next time, she’d stay longer and hike way more in Bryce Canyon.

Lodge at Marconi

Marshall, California

Price: From $299

I’ve visited several outdoor-adjacent properties in the Bay Area over the years, but none within a state park. The experience felt like a sophisticated, laid-back,�� improved version of summer camp. Lodge at Marconi is a newly remodeled, 45-acre property that spans from the water’s edge of eastern Tomales Bay—an hour’s drive north of San Francisco on Highway 1—to bluffs with incredible views westward to Point Reyes National Seashore and north to the Pacific Ocean.

The weekend I was in town, the property was hosting an indoor-outdoor wedding as well as young couples there with their toddlers and dogs, day-trippers picnicking beneath shady oaks, and friends using it as a base camp for a local foodie tour. Come dusk, everyone gathered around the massive communal fire pit and hung out for hours, occasionally popping into the on-site store for a bottle of regional wine.

This is a fantastic place to do some wildlife- and bird-watching. Wild turkeys were running around while I was there, and I spent 15 minutes one morning looking down at a huge school of fish feasting on bugs in the bay. Tule elk wander Point Reyes and elephant seals laze on its beaches. Bring your best binoculars.

One of the best things about Marconi, though, is its quick access to fantastic eating in these parts. The waterfront Marshall Store is just a mile away, the must-visit Hog Island Oyster Company a mile farther (take the tour and then have lunch), and, after that, Nick’s Cove, where I love to have a casual seafood dinner and drink. This trip I also wandered around the town of Point Reyes Station, eight miles south, where I discovered buffalo-milk soft serve and a sandwich shop with 18 gooey melts. Delicious, both.

What I’d do differently if I returned: The next time, I’m bringing my girlfriends, renting out Marconi’s spacious A-frame cabin, and enjoying an evening at its cute new little cocktail bar and restaurant, Mable’s, which I missed because it opened two weeks after my visit.

Phantom Ranch

The Grand Canyon, Arizona

Price: From $213.50 for two people

It’s really hard to get a reservation to Phantom Ranch, a group of historic cabins and dorms at the floor of the Grand Canyon, and you have to try for one 15 months in advance. But Stephanie Vermillion lucked out and snagged a last-minute winter opening. Her review of the property offers tips to scoring a stay there, too.

If you are able to book Phantom Ranch, you also have to be prepared to get there. Vermillion chose the easier route down, from the South Rim: a seven-mile (one-way) zigzagging descent via the South Kaibab Trail that you have to then ascend after check-out. Pack light—no need to bring food, because you can pay for hot meals at the ranch—and take your trekking poles. It’s about a vertical mile of elevation gain each way.

Worth it, said Vermillion, to stay in the stone cabins designed by renowned architect Mary Jane Colter. And to amble along the mightly Colorado River; if you have more than one night at the property, Vermillion suggests hiking the to Phantom Overlook. It’s nine miles round-trip but you’ll see parts of the canyon seldom explored by visitors.

What Vermillion would do differently if she returned: I’d go lighter on the camera gear I brought—the weight of two cameras and a bulky tripod made the tough uphill return trip even more challenging.

Dunton Hot Springs

Dolores, Colorado

Price: From $1,165 for two people

We’re recommending this ghost-town hot-springs resort, because it’s a secluded slice of the Wild West where you can not only soak to your heart’s content but also fish for trout, hike and bike the Rockies, and dine at a saloon. Writer Emily Pennington said it was the best wellness retreat she’d ever been to.

Dunton is located in southwestern Colorado, about 30 miles from beautiful Telluride. In the late 1800s it was a mining settlement, and Butch Cassidy actually scratched his name into the bar, which you can pony up to while you’re visiting. The 15 log cabins are cozy and encircle the wooden bathhouse home to a pool with rich mineral waters and decorated with a hammock and a small fireplace. When Pennington visited in March, the snow was coming down and the hot springs were just the respite she was looking for.

As anyone who lives in Colorado can tell you, March does not mark the end of winter. Pennington took a cat-ski ride up to Dunton Meadows and spent a few hours snowshoeing (the resort loans out gear). The next morning she took a yoga class. She made use of her room’s clawfoot tub. And she and the other five guests there at the time ate incredible meals, including blue-corn johnnycakes and house-cured bacon for breakfast, a hearty Mexican posole and tostadas for lunch, and a multi-course dinner that featured bison one evening. The whole experience was something she’d looked forward to for months—and it did not disappoint.

What Pennington would do differently if she returned: As an avid hiker, Pennington loves the idea of exploring the stunning San Juan Mountains in the summer months. And that steamy, historic hot-spring building would look even more tantalizing after a thigh-busting trek, she said.

The Nami Project

Ucluelet, British Columbia

Price: From $343

Western Vancouver Island is a known storm-watching destination, and ���ϳԹ��� travel columnist Jen Murphy had to experience it firsthand herself. So we sent her to Nami Project, a collection of suites that overlook the ocean, to watch the winter swells roll in from her room’s floor-to-ceiling windows.

But the views were too stunning for staying holed up inside. Murphy donned rain gear and set out to explore neighboring , hiking amid the tall Sitka spruce on a trail that hugs the coast. During the wildest storms, you can watch 20-foot-high waves crash into the coast. After braving the elements, Nami Project’s cedar hot tubs, sauna, and heated floors felt pretty great.

Tide-pooling, surfing, and hiking through the rainforest are popular activities year-round, and in the warmer months, you can rent a bike and pedal the 15 miles up to Tofino. Murphy, who is a foodie, also raved about the area fare, especially the hyperlocal tasting menu at the restaurant .

What Murphy would do differently if she returned: Witness the world’s largest gray-whale migration while soaking from her room’s hot tub. As many as 20,000 whales can be spotted swimming offshore beginning in February.

The Swag

Waynesville, North Carolina

Price: From $875, all-inclusive

Graham Averill and his wife spent a few glorious days holing up at The Swag and hiking from its 250-acre premises directly into Great Smoky Mountains National Park, a perk that offers your own private entrance to a lesser visited corner of America’s most visited national park.

The couple, who visited in late summer, spent an afternoon trekking through rhododendron tunnels and past a waterfall, topping out at a knob with valley views. Averill also did some trail running along a 5,500-foot ridge with spectacular panoramas to the distant Black Mountains. There were lawn games and a pool, and Averill’s room had a fireplace and an outdoor shower. Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton were in regular rotation on the house playlist.

Needless to say, you can work up an appetite here, and the reward is getting to indulge in home cooking. Averill couldn’t get enough of the grilled pigeon. And the iced tea. And the smoked Old Fashioneds. And the chocolate-chip pie served with ice cream. “Every course set in front of me was the best thing I’d ever had, until the next course came out and it became the best thing I’d ever had,” he wrote.

The experience—the scenery, the proximity to the park, the opening drive from parking to the property in an electric Volvo XC90—was top-notch from start to finish. “Imagine if your grandmother had generational wealth, exceptional taste, and lived to spoil you—that’s what a stay at The Swag feels like,” he said.

What Averill would do differently if he returned: The Swag’s super complex wooden jigsaw puzzle baffled Averill on his last visit, and he’d like to spend more time sipping cocktails in front of the fireplace while trying to put it together.

Tasha��Zemke is ���ϳԹ��� magazine’s managing editor and a member of the ���ϳԹ��� Online travel team. She still has yet to satiate her wanderlust, and next year she’s most looking forward to attending Mountainfilm, in what her colleague called Colorado’s most beautiful town; hiking with friends in Ireland; and kayaking off Baja Sur, Mexico.

The post 7 Amazing Resorts in the U.S. and Canada That We’d Love to Return To appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

Ever come across an incredible hotel that stops you mid-scroll and makes you think, Wow, wouldn’t it be something to stay there? We do, too—all the time. Welcome to Friday Fantasy, where we highlight amazing hotels, lodges, cabins, tents, campsites, and other places perched in perfect outdoor settings. Read on for the intel you need to book an upcoming adventure here. Or at least dream about it.

Why I Love the Enchantment Resort

Sedona, Arizona, is best known��for two things: the stunning red-rock landscape, which draws thousands each year for hiking and mountain biking, and its vortex energy, a contested phenomenon that has drawn plenty of curious people and turned this high-desert city into��a metaphysical mecca. The is the nexus of both.

From its location at the base of Boynton Canyon, the 70-acre luxury property is surrounded by high sandstone cliffs��that make you and your problems feel minuscule (that’s a good thing). The canyon has long been considered sacred by Native people and, more recently, holy by pilgrims and unique by New Age mystics and psychics who believe in its spiritual powers.��Today, Enchantment Resort tends to draw guests seeking change in their lives, managing director Stan Kantowski told me, or those hoping for peace and resolution in the wake of some tough change. “It’s an emotional place,” he said.

The mystery of just how transformative an experience��this could be intrigued me. The regenerative powers of nature are proven, but would I feel different hiking in a high-energy vortex zone, said to induce physical effects like tingling or hair-raising?��Would I return home convinced in the merits of carrying crystals in my pockets, newly grounded by hours spent among��heavy red rocks that have loomed large here since before the dinosaurs? And would the Mii Amo spa’s��long list of alternative (and expensive) treatments—from sound baths and chakra balancing to manifesting-new-moon ceremonies and reiki—release the bad and let in the good?

I wanted to be convinced, to be cared for. My personal life had been taking a nosedive, and I longed for something magical to happen. So I called one of my best friends to meet me for a short stay, and we headed there with open minds.

What Exactly Is a Vortex, and Why Is Sedona Known for Them?

A vortex is a spot where some people believe intense energy is emitted (called an electric vortex) or pulled back into the earth (a magnetic vortex). It is believed to occur the intersection of ley lines, or electromagnetic threads of energy that��crisscross the planet. Boynton Canyon is considered to be one of four major vortices within an 11-mile radius in Sedona, its energy electromagnetic—a combo vortex of sorts.

Where there’s talk of heightened energy, there’s talk of spiritual awakening. Exactly what that means and how the area’s vortex energy will work for you—or whether it will at all—depends on the person and their intentions. In short, Sedona is “a place to feel alive,” said Carina Leveriza, who moved here 13 years ago after her husband died. She hiked every day for months as a way to heal. Now she leads vortex treks at the Enchantment Resort.

“Whatever you bring to the vortex will be amplified,” she said when I asked her what I might expect after a hike up the canyon. “If you’re happy, you’ll be effervescent. If you’re grumpy, you’ll be grumpier.”

Vortices are also thought to be portals to other dimensions, and especially so in Boynton Canyon. In her book Earth Frequency, Melissa Alvarez writes that “the veil to other dimensions is believed to be thinner in Sedona than it is at other vortex sites” (which, in the United States, include Mount Shasta, in California; Sugarloaf Mountain, in Utah; and Ni’ihau Island, in Hawaii). The Sedona canyons are believed, she writes, to enhance “spiritual growth and an intrinsic connection to universal knowledge.”

���ϳԹ��� Intel

Enchantment Resort offers access to 400 miles of trails, for hiking and mountain biking (with equipment available from the on-site Trail House), and staff can arrange guided tours to suit your interest and skill level.

My friend Danielle Gill and I set off on the easy 2.6-mile Boynton Canyon Trail one afternoon with Leveriza, who was a fount of good energy, eager to tell us personal stories and lore, receptive to our infinite inquiries, and generally ambling along in an upbeat way. The beautiful sandy path led past pines and succulents, and Leveriza stopped occasionally to point out some of the more than 180 ancient cave dwellings on the box canyon’s walls, quartz crystals (said to be a source of clarifying energy) flecking the red rocks, and twisted tree trunks and branches that she told us were evidence of the canyon’s spiraling vortex effects.

“Hike with intention,” she said, then asked us to stay silent for a few minutes to consider what was deep in our hearts. “Psychics have said that what pierces the portals here are our intentions.”

I vowed to have more resolve, to be more joyful, to devote more time for myself, and to make hard decisions rooted in kindness and fairness. In the quiet of the canyon, it all seemed possible.

As we arrived back at the resort, a group of women were meditating on the lawn. Javelinas munched the grass, and two deer hoofed slowly up a hillside toward a casita. Leveriza directed us to an incredible vista overlooking the property and the rock massifs��that make the greater Sedona panorama so magnificent. She lit a sage smudge stick, waved it slowly around our heads, and recited a meditation, the smoke lingering in the air as if it were a spirit listening in, too.

Hiking was a highlight for me, but Enchantment has several other recreational options, including swimming in four pools, stargazing—Sedona is an International Dark Sky Community—and, in winter, a “glice rink” for outdoor skating. There are tennis and pickleball courts; yoga, Pilates, and qi gong classes; chanting sessions; and educational sessions on nutrition and juicing. Curated, private high-end offerings around northern Arizona are also enticing,��if your budget allows, and include heli tours to the Grand Canyon; sommelier-led wine tours of Paige Springs, a growing viticulture destination; and climbing excursions in Prescott.

At the resort, the deeper dive into self tends to happen at Mii Amo spa, which reopened in 2023 after a multimillion-dollar renovation. Considered one of the best spas in the nation, it’s open only to Enchantment guests. Treatments aren’t cheap (the least expensive is $250 for 60 minutes), but there are many—more than 50—and they head into metaphysical terrain not normally on offer at a resort spa. I wanted to sign up for the hourlong sound bath to reduce stress, meditate deeply by walking a labyrinth, get a numerology or tarot or pendulum reading, undergo hypnosis to delve into past-life regression, and treat my doshas with a balancing wrap. When would I ever see a menu like this again?

Instead, I opted to have my chakras (which I knew nothing about) balanced. The therapist who led me though this treatment was empathetic, her voice soothing, her touch gentle. I lay prone on the massage table, and as she rocked my body back and forth, I started heaving huge quiet sobs. She continued as if my crying was the most natural thing in the world, telling me that my heart chakra must have been blocked. I flipped over, and she massaged my muscles using a different scented oil for the —focal energy points in the body—and then placed polished gemstones atop each, to amplify those energies.

I was tired. I padded to the lower floor of the spa in my slippers and robe to the dry and wet saunas and hot tub, and rotated between them all for another half-hour.

That evening I popped into the Crystal Grotto, a dark, circular room with crystals the size of cats demarcating the four compass points. Before entering, you’re invited to write down something you’d like to let go of, with the promise that the sheets of paper would be burned, releasing those troubles to the universe. Then you remove your shoes so you can feel the bare ground beneath your feet. I wrote a note and deposited it into the little box of burdens; I curled my toes into the soft sand; and as the��grotto guide took up a singing bowl in the low light, I closed my eyes and zoned in on the��humming sounds, which research has shown to . Good vibrations.

Choice Rooms

The��resort has 38 adobe-style casitas, housing a total of 218 guest rooms, each with its own patio and views of the massive canyon walls. My room, 180, was spacious, with a living-room area adjacent to a queen bed, and a large bathroom with a deep bathtub. It was a five-minute uphill walk to the main reception area and restaurants, but guests anywhere can call for golf-cart service.

I asked the bellhop and our hiking guide which rooms were considered the best. Both liked casita buildings 37 and 38, situated higher on the grounds and deeper within the canyon than the rest. They face the eastern walls of the canyon, which glow in hues of orange, red, and russet as the sun sets.

Eat and Drink

At all of the resort’s three restaurants, the whole-foods-focused menus and relaxed ambiance come served with vast views. The hardest restaurant to book is Che Ah Chi, more of a fine-dining experience, but the one I liked the best is its newest, Hummingbird, located within Mii Amo. I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast there one morning while gazing up at hawks drifting in the thermals near the canyontops. The clouds looked liked they’d been painted by Georgia O’Keeffe.

Off-site, I was wowed by , a vibrant, popular local place just 13 miles from the resort. On offer are 20 kinds of smoothies, superfood coffees, tonics, juice blends, and a grab-and-go selection of healthy treats that you can take to the trail. This being Sedona, you can also pick up herbal supplements targeted toward better focus, energy, mood, and sex drive.

Finally, for cheap eats, I asked locals for their recommendations. They like the Oak Creek Brewing Co., Eriberto’s, Layla’s Bakery, and , for fresh tamales made daily.

When to Go

Spring and fall, when the weather tends to be most pleasant in northern Arizona, are the busiest months at Enchantment Resort. March sees the most rain.

The hottest month in Sedona is July, with an average high temperature of 97 degrees, though the summer monsoons, which usually��begin in June and can last as late as August, bring cooling afternoon rains.

December and January are the coldest months, with an average high of 57 degrees. While it only snows in Sedona a handful of times each year, staff tell me that Boynton Canyon covered in snow is a sight to behold. Guests in December can also look forward to live music every night.

How to Get There

Most out-of-state visitors fly into Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, rent a car, and motor the 126 miles north via Highway 260.

I road-tripped in from New Mexico, and swung down from Flagstaff, a spectacular drive south on State Route 89A through Oak Creek Canyon—where the fall foliage was a brilliant��yellow in September—and past Slide Rock State Park. It’s slow going, because everyone is rubbernecking at the scenery, but I thought of it as the easy introduction to, and grand finale of, my wellness journey at the resort.

Don’t Miss

Crystal shops are everywhere in Sedona. Give in to your curiosity and check them out; it’s part of the woo-woo experience here, especially for first-time visitors.

Danielle and I spent an hour at ��after our spa treatments at the resort. We picked out gemstone bracelets for friends and mementos for ourselves. We had our aura photos taken; I��was happy to read that mine was reportedly now strong and radiant (no doubt thanks to my balancing session at Enchantment) and that my predominant color—green—reflected growth and joy.

We weren’t able to book an immediate consultation with a medium or psychic—the time slots for the remainder of the afternoon were all taken. Maybe next visit.

***

After a few days at Enchantment Resort, I’d eaten well and exercised, I’d soaked up the vortex vibe in a beautiful canyon, and I’d pondered spiritual growth in a new way. I felt lighter about life. Maybe it was simply the effects of finally being on vacation after a lot of weary workweeks. But two months later, I still feel changed by the experience. I believed—and that’s a big part of any trip here—there was genuinely something to it.

Details

Price: From $400

Address: 525 Boynton Canyon Road
Sedona, AZ 86336

To Book:

Tasha Zemke is ���ܳٲ������’s managing editor. She formerly lived on the Sicilian island of Pantelleria, where the phrase “anything is possible” was a common saying��and her in-laws believed in the evil eye. Her truest faith is in nature’s power to heal.

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The post Sedona’s Enchantment Resort Is a Powerful Nexus of Nature and Vortex Energy appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

Josh Drinkard always wanted to build his own cabin. Growing up in suburban New Jersey, he’d wander to a small strip of woods near his childhood home and spend hours constructing forts and treehouses. When he moved to New Mexico as an adult, Drinkard, the IT Operations Manager at ���ϳԹ��� Inc., bought 2.5 acres of land in the mountain village of Truchas, about 30 miles north of Santa Fe. There, he took on his first effort at building a very simple cabin with the help of a friend who was an unlicensed contractor and taught Drinkard framing and building basics.

In 2021, Drinkard and his wife, Saraswati Khalsa, started looking at New England as a place to move once their three children were grown. After scouting around, they settled on 25 terraced, hardwood-filled acres near Halifax, Vermont, not far from the Massachusetts border.

Over the past three years, Drinkard has spent vacations building a cabin near Halifax, with the help of his wife, teenage son, and one of his daughters. After a cumulative seven weeks of effort, they can now stay there for long periods, although it still lacks internet service, a shower, and a toilet.

Learning the ins and outs of building a small log cabin in the woods is no small feat. We asked Drinkard to talk about what the project entailed and what skills are required to turn a cabin-building dream into a reality. This is what he learned.

How Big Is the Cabin?

It’s still a work in progress, but right now it’s a one-room cabin with a loft. Two people can sleep up there comfortably. The interior is just 12 feet squared. We use the lower room as the living room and kitchen. Another two people could sleep there with a foldable futon.

Why Did You Choose Vermont?

We bought this property without any services or electricity, so the price was below the national average per acre (which was about $3,000 at the time, according to Drinkard). I love the location and especially the lush green forests. We also love skiing and whitewater rafting and can do both near here; the closest mountain is Mount Snow, 18 miles north, and the closest flowing river is the Deerfield, to the west.

We liked that it’s not far from a town with big-box stores—Greenfield, Massachusetts—and that you can catch a train from Brattleboro, Vermont, to New York City. We thought that if the kids are in college, or after, if they wanted to take a train up, that would be convenient.

And I like Vermont in general. Everything has a small-town feel. There are no billboards. And it’s similar to northern New Mexico in that it’s rural and very liberal.

How Did You Get Started With the Build?

We found a spot that was flat and open. There was a little meadow on the property just big enough for a cabin, so we didn’t have to clear it. We knew we’d use the hemlock trees from the surrounding forest. I was told hemlock resists rot pretty well.

I knew I’d have to find a cheap 4×4 vehicle to leave out there, and we only had a few thousand dollars to work with. In Vermont, good pickups in that price range were all rotted out, so I settled on an old Lincoln Navigator in New Mexico that had been stolen and recovered; its interior was beat to shit. I welded a receiver hitch in front, to use as a winch and a pushbar, and I also fabricated a roof rack big enough to haul 16-foot-long lumber and plywood sheets. Then I drove it out to Vermont.

We decided to use a to build the cabin after a lot of time looking at YouTube videos. Butt-and-pass cabins go up quickly, but the drawback is you need a ton of expensive lags to connect the walls to each other and each log to the ones below.

We used logs for the whole first level of the cabin. The first year, the family came out for four days and we felled trees and placed and leveled the bottom four logs. After they left, I stayed another six days on my own and threw up the first 12 rows of logs—they weren’t that heavy—plus the floor and a temporary roof to keep the snow out.

The next year, we got the structure height to about eight feet. At this point, we started using two-by-fours for the loft level. I traded an old laptop of mine for a bunch of small windows and a door.

After the entire structure dried, we hung shingles on the front. I installed a water-catchment system and solar panels—both are sustainable. We built the loft platform inside and scraped and sealed all of the logs. And I built a small shed with scrap materials and installed more windows on the first floor.

What Was the Hardest Part?

Felling trees for the logs and dragging them around 100 yards to the build site was exhausting. And I’m not in awful shape.

Using a , we took down 30 to 40 relatively straight, light trees on the first trip out, but they kept getting hung up in the tight forest canopy. Then we cut these to 12 and 16 feet and dragged them to the site. It took a few days. The next time we were there, the following July, we cut another 30 or 40 trees.

Does the Cabin Have Plumbing and Electricity?

One of the last things I did when I was there was put in a . The rainwater goes from the roof to a gutter and through a small-screen filter to a 300-gallon IBC (intermediate builk container) tank. The tank was repurposed—it used to hold soy sauce—and someone sold it to me. I’m gonna have to plumb from that tank to a sink and an outside shower. There’s no toilet—we probably will get an outhouse but right now we’re using a bucket with a toilet seat on top.

For electricity, I have a small solar setup: two 100-watt panels and a solar battery that’s good enough to charge things and for basic lighting. The great thing about these is they’re upgradable; I just need to get more batteries and panels to turn it into something more robust that could handle, like, a fridge.

What About Heat?

I brought out a woodstove from New Mexico but decided it’s too big and that it would heat us out—that’s a mistake I made with the cabin in Truchas, too—so I’ll probably buy a small one.

Did You Have to Troubleshoot Any Unforeseen Issues?

It rained a lot one trip, in July, and the road, which is unmaintained, was turning into a rutted off-camber mess. I was having to winch up in several places, and I blew out the Navigator’s 4×4 low. So we found a local heavy-equipment operator and hired him to take down some trees and smooth out the road.��But this is an investment for us. Having a small functional cabin with a roughed-in road will increase the property value by more than what we’ve spent.

Also, except for the initial time I drove the navigator out, we’ve flown. And every time, we fly with the power tools. I check the chainsaw, the circular saw. You can’t check the batteries, so I have to carry those on.

How Did You Cut Costs?

One of our challenges was thinking up a good chinking method that wouldn’t take an entire month. There are maybe 80 trees in the structure—because they were smaller in diameter, we needed more, which also meant 80 gaps to fill. Concrete mortar was out, because we didn’t want to haul water up from the stream and mix cement. was out, because it’s too expensive. So we used a product called . This is a spray foam with a component that tastes sour, so bugs and rats don’t want to chew through it.

Pestblock worked better than I imagined, but it’s gonna yellow real bad and I’ll likely have to paint it. I tried putting floor polish over it, to keep the gray color, but it didn’t work.

Also, we didn’t strip the bark off the logs. It looks cool, but bark holds moisture and the logs can rot. After we completed the first floor, they sat for a year, and I thought that if we wire-brushed the logs after a year or so, we could then use floor polish to seal them. So far that’s been working great, but only time will tell if we have any rot. I might know in a few years.

We also stayed in a nearby campground much of the time when we were working on the cabin.

Did Your Family Like Being Involved?

We just gave my son, Mason, a nice RAV4, so we forced him to come out and be our indentured servant. After the second trip, he told me I’d worked him pretty hard but that he had a great time. He can do most jobs independently after a little training. One of our daughters also did a lot of work the first visit, carrying logs.

Saraswati, my wife, is really good at certain things like angles or eyeballing whether something is level. My eyes are awful. Also, I can have a short fuse. At the beginning, I’m fine, but after a week, it grows shorter. And Saraswati will really push to get things done when I’m ready to quit, so we get a lot more done when she’s around.

On the flip side, I have to bring her back down to earth on structural realities. She’s always form over function, and I’m the opposite. For example, we had a full-size door, but I realized that fitting it would cut too many logs on one side and compromise the structure. So we had a bit of a fight about that, because I wanted to cut the door and make it shorter. That’s what we ended up doing.

What Are You Proudest Of About the Cabin?

We did this on the cheap and haven’t splurged on anything so far—though having internet out there will be a splurge. The cabin’s a pretty basic structure, but I’m OK with that. And except for needing help fixing the road, we were able to do everything on our own. There’s no cell-phone access out there, so if you run into a jam, you just have to figure it out.

Estimated Costs for the Cabin

Land and Annual Taxes: $78,000

Building Supplies: $8,000

Driveway: $7,000

Eventual Internet Setup: $700

Flights, food, fees to stay in the nearby campground before the cabin was ready: $5,000

Total: $98,700

Tasha Zemke is ���ܳٲ������’s managing editor and a member of ���ϳԹ��� Online’s travel team. She appreciates beautiful, and especially ancient, architecture but can’t imagine building a structure of any kind, given her loathing of giant home-improvement stores.

The post How I Built a Log Cabin in 7 Weeks for Under $100K appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

Ever come across an incredible hotel that stops you mid-scroll and makes you think, Wow, wouldn’t it be something to stay there? We do, too—all the time. Welcome to Friday Fantasy, where we highlight amazing hotels, lodges, cabins, tents, campsites, and other places perched in perfect outdoor settings. Read on for the intel you need to book an upcoming adventure here. Or at least dream about it.

From my perch on the pine-covered grounds at the , I was staring down at Tomales Bay, an hour north of San Francisco, trying to make out what was splashing in the water. My mind went to the most obvious place: sharks.

In late summer, the white shark is known to frequent northern Tomales Point, on the Pacific. I calmed down, then reasoned: Maybe bat rays. The shape billowed and shrunk and appeared to be made up of separate pieces. It had to be a school of fish. Beautiful. I’d never seen anything quite like it.

Access to nature on this gorgeous, quiet stretch of Northern Cal abounds at Marconi. The newly remodeled, 45-room property feels like a sophisticated, laid-back, improved version of summer camp. But one with a sauna to shake off the coastal fog after a day of adventuring, a bar serving harder-to-find regional wines, a massive central fire pit for evening gatherings in the woods, and an ideal position on Highway 1 for quick foodie field trips or wildlife-watching.

In the span of a few hours, I observed a great blue heron stalk a gopher, a bugling bull elk with five-point antlers court a handful of females, and a wild turkey sprint across the road.

The Lodge

The setting is a hilly 62-acre , with a curious recent past that still resonates with the Bay Area’s present. In the early 1900s, Italian inventor Guglielmo Marconi used the site as a receiving station to test long-distance radio signals—a precursor to today’s Wi-Fi and the Bay Area tech community. In the sixties, the property changed hands from innovative to more eccentric owners: the founders of Synanon, which began as a therapeutic drug-rehabilitation center but was eventually called out as and closed.

Today the Lodge at Marconi is all good vibes. The September weekend I visited, I shared the property with a large wedding party, young couples carrying toddlers and strolling trails with the family pup in tow (dogs are welcome overnight), and day-trippers picnicking at tables shaded by oaks and surrounded by pink lilies, with postcard views of moored fishing boats bobbing at high tide.

Marconi is on the verge of attracting considerable attention from Bay Area city-dwellers seeking a rural, comfortable hideout they can head to with family and friends. An on-site indoor-outdoor restaurant will open at the end of September with dinner service and a small bar. A day spa is in the works, as is a vegetable garden and farm-style cottages.

Eight miles south, the town of Point Reyes Station has a burgeoning artist and music scene, says Leah Fritts Vitali, Marconi’s general manager, who has resided down the road for 12 years.

“There’s an energy shift happening,” she told me, one that seems to reflect the interests and values of more visitors. Marconi appeals to those who want to learn about and buy food grown locally, eat meals made from scratch, and spend time exploring protected lands, notably Point Reyes National Seashore, across the bay. “Here you have the wilderness and a luxury lodge at a state park, and then this great community. Is this the benchmark of what’s to come elsewhere?”

���ϳԹ��� Intel

The state park is crisscrossed by 3.5 miles of gently graded hiking trails. On an afternoon stroll, I topped out at the knoll called Tower Hill and looked toward the mouth of the narrow bay and across the water to the Point Reyes peninsula. Coastal clouds slid lazily over the low hills.

When the weather holds, the lodge offers free outdoor yoga on Sunday mornings, an ideal way to take in the eucalyptus- and pine-scented air. There are horseshoes and cornhole and volleyball and basketball courts. And whether you intend to or not, you’ll be birding; I saw turkey vultures, red-tailed hawks, and woodpeckers during my stay. If you’re looking for something rare, keep your binocs trained to the shoreline at the base of the property for , a threatened species.

Trips afield should definitely be part of your stay at Marconi. Reception staff can book horseback riding, photography safaris, and kayak rentals or guided tours of the bay—if your stay coincides with a new moon, be sure to get out on the water one night to paddle through the .

Before check-in, I spent the morning hiking the 9.7-mile (round-trip) at the northern tip of Point Reyes in search of the resident Tule elk herd. I came upon a half dozen after a mile, practically right next to me, and another handful ambling up steep bluffs through the mist about a mile later. The park has countless possibilities for recreation, is a quick and beautiful 11-mile drive from the lodge, and admission is free.

Choice Rooms

Marconi’s midcentury-modernistic buildings blend into the forested surrounds, with the fire pit as focal point. The popular spot is ringed with Adirondack chairs and just a quick trot to the lobby’s grab-and-go store, stocked with snacks and drinks. I loved how the main cluster of rooms so thoughtfully brought folks together.

If you’re a family, request one of the room configurations with a central downstairs bed and a loft with a second bed. I heard the mom in the room next to mine use that as an enthusiastic pitch to her youngster: “Look, your own space!” If your group is looking to sleep up to six, book rooms 304 and 305, which connect.

If you’re a couple here for a secluded getaway for two, the homey, singular A-frame is the best nest. The newlyweds who were married at the property holed up there, canoodling on the sunset-facing deck that overlooked the bay and eastern shores of Point Reyes. It provides a full kitchen, a huge, handsomely tiled bathroom with a tub, a spacious living room, and a king bedroom at the structure’s apex.

Eat and Drink

Starting September 30, you can amble the short distance from your accommodation to a brand-new 63-seat restaurant and bar called Mable’s (a loose acronym for the marine atmospheric boundary layer—the air that cools the Northern California coast in summer). The Mediterranean menu and wine and cocktails will draw largely from local ingredients, and by the end of 2025, Mable’s is expected to offer breakfast and bag lunches that you can stick in your daypack.

If you’re like most foodies, though, you already have a list of places nearby you intend to check out. One of those is probably the famous . Breakfast pastries from its downtown Tomales location are delivered to the lodge for guests to purchase, but you should go for yourself to indulge in the mouth-watering scents and test your power of restraint in the face of so many variations of warm bread. The waterfront Marshall Store, just a mile from the lodge, has all kinds of homemade sandwiches, soups, and goodies to satiate you during ��your stay or bring home to gift.

I like to have lunch in Point Reyes Station at the , a micro food hall. Pony up to The Farmer’s Wife for some gooey goodness—one of its signature seasonal melts. The menu boasts 18 of these sandwiches, and the Belly and Jelly—with bacon, apricot conserve, and aged Cheddar and blue cheese—is a customer favorite. What I’m suggesting next could be dairy overdose, but you absolutely can’t leave town without trying Double 8 Dairy’s buffalo-milk soft serve paired with whichever daily fermented fruit soda Wild West Ferments has on tap. The combo is a one-of-a-kind . I’ll say no more.

When to Go

Fall is the heralded season in West Marin, when the marine layer gives way to more frequent sunny days; that said, you should always pack a puffy and expect evenings that drop to the fifties this season. Elk rutting happens from August through October, when males are their most vocal.

Fritts Vitali likes the “drama of the weather” in winter. December is when elephant seals begin to appear on beaches at Point Reyes National Seashore, where they remain generally until March.

The spring months are the greenest of the year. Wildflowers are in full bloom mid-April through mid-June, and the spring bird migration is celebrated with a three-day in April.

Four species of whales can be spotted off the Pacific in the summer months. August through November, Tomales Bay tends to have more nights of bioluminescence, because the water is warmer and calmer—especially enjoyable conditions for night kayakers.

How to Get There

You’ll want a car to reach the Lodge at Marconi and make the most of your time in the area. The closest airport is in Santa Rosa, 40 miles northeast, but if you’re coming from farther afield, fly into the international airports in San Francisco and Oakland, both some 60 miles south.

One word of advice: If you’re headed up from San Francisco and prone to carsickness or vertigo, avoid Highway 1. The more streamlined route to Marconi is via Highway 101, turning west in Novato and continuing to Point Reyes Station.

Don’t Miss

Although there are a handful of farms that harvest oysters in Tomales Bay, is my favorite, and here’s why: not only is it the most convenient to the Lodge at Marconi, but it’s sustainable, founded by two marine biologists devoted to responsible practices, and the only such local farm to offer regular educational tours to the public ($48).

Marconi staff can secure you a spot here—the 75-minute tours book up in advance, so it helps to have an in. You won’t go out on the water but you will have a chance to see the construction of the oyster beds, understand the whole process from seed to table, and end your schooling with a primer on how to properly shuck the bivalves and a tasting.

Stick around for a fantastic brunch at its simple and scenic bayfront Boat Oyster Bar. The ripe tomato, peach, and apple salad I ordered (above left) was just as bright as the sweetwater oysters in mignonette sauce, and all of it washed down nicely with one of the best sake Bloody Marys of my life. Tops.

Details

Price: From $299

Address: 18500 Highway 1
Marshall, CA 94940

To book: Click to get a 15 percent discount when making your reservation or�� (If you buy through our links, we may earn an affiliate commission. This supports our mission to get more people active and outside. Learn more.)

Tasha Zemke is ���ϳԹ��� magazine’s managing editor and a member of its online travel team. She thinks the greater Tomales Bay area is one of the best places in the world to work up an appetite outdoors and reward yourself with amazing locally sourced food and drinks.

The post The Lodge at Marconi Opens the Door to Gorgeous Nature and an Incredible Local Food Scene appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

There’s no perfect trip. Despite the best planning, the unexpected happens, like the ferry service doesn’t run the only day you need it, or you didn’t know that there are two German towns named Frankfurt.

We asked our longtime travel writers and editors to tell us about their most memorable travel mistakes, the ones that taught them a significant lesson or two. Some of their stories made us chuckle, and most were relatable. If you’ve ever been seriously sick while abroad, frustrated with others on a group trip, or ignorant of the rules of the road in some foreign locale, you’ll appreciate these sticky situations.

1. Desperately Seeking Arctic Apparel

While on my first and only small-ship cruise along the southeast Alaskan coastline one September, I was so excited for the adventures ahead that I mistakenly left my luggage on the airport conveyor belt. The shuttle picking me up transported my group directly to the Mendenhall Glacier for an initial hike before dropping us off at the dock for departure. The boat had set sail before I realized that I had nothing more than the clothes on my back for a chilly seven-day itinerary. I was mortified.

Thankfully, the ship captain and company owner raided the vessel’s supply closet and were able to deck me out with a staff T-shirt and sweatshirt. An angel fellow passenger loaned me an extra puffy and a few essential layers. Disaster averted, with the help of a few kind people. —Stephanie Pearson��

2. Double-Check That Google Maps Route

After skiing powder all day in the Alpine mecca of Chamonix, France, my husband and I grabbed a baguette and a hunk of cheese and hit the road in our rental Peugeot bound for Tignes, France, the next stop on our winter European road trip.

Still giddy from our time at the iconic resort, we didn’t consult Google Maps as closely as we should have. It navigated us east through the Mont Blanc Tunnel—a seven-mile-long feat of engineering that cuts through the massif and connects Chamonix to the neighboring ski town of Courmayeur on the Italian side. The one-way toll costs about $55. Baffled but believing in Google Maps, we continued to follow the directions and enjoyed the finest of scenic drives for another 30 minutes. Then the cobbled streets turned into a one-lane dirt road that soon dead-ended at a snowbank, with skiers cruising atop it.

There was nothing to do but turn around and try a different route, which, of course, directed us back through the tunnel (forcing us to pay again) and added several hours to a long day. But it made for a good story afterward. —Megan Michelson

3. Pack Back-Up Meds in Case You Get Sick

I habitually get sick in foreign countries. I’ve suffered numerous bouts of strep throat while visiting family in Sweden, food poisoning on a rural train in northern India, and came down with scarlet fever on a five-day backpacking trip in the remote Alaskan bush. That last trip was a turning point for me. I now always carry antibiotics with me when I travel. —Emily Pennington

4. Why Overpreparing Isn’t a Bad Idea

I was invited to Nepal in 2003 to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first ascent of Mount Everest. I signed up for a 30-day trip with an outfitter that took the scenic route from the steamy jungle up over a series of very high passes, including 19,100-foot Amphu Labtsa La, and back down into Tengboche, the original base camp for the 1953 climb, which was hosting a big celebration.

The trek was absolutely stunning and supremely remote. It was also nerve-wracking. Every day we had reports that Maoists were going to intercept us. That never happened, but incompetence among some in our own group proved to be far more dangerous.

The crux of the trip was an almost impossible ask: we had to summit a “minor” 17,000-foot pass, cross an ice field, and then get both up and down Amphu Labsta La— all in a day.

I was toward the front of the group when I reached the top of Amphu Labsta La in the afternoon and took a gander at the descent. What I saw terrified me: a 50-degree slope of solid blue ice running at least 400 feet. Getting everyone down was going to be a huge ordeal, since not everyone could rappel on their own.

We ended up having to sleep atop the pass for two nights. Because much of the clients’ gear had been lowered with the porters after the initial night (everyone thought the full group would have rappelled down that day), we found ourselves stranded atop the peak with insufficient equipment. A quick tally revealed we had just three tents, three sleeping bags, and two sleeping pads for 11 people. Four of us piled into my three-person tent, and I spread my sleeping bag as best as I could over us. I didn’t sleep at all, just shivered and prayed a storm wouldn’t roll in. At first light, exhausted and pissed off at how miserable I’d been, I packed up, clipped into the rope down the pass, and rappelled myself, not waiting for anyone to lower me. You can bet I partied my ass off when we finally got to Tengboche. —Tim Neville

6. Bugged Out

Failing to zip my backpack after sleeping outside in the jungle of Panama had me toting not one, not two, but three massive (and I mean massive) cockroaches with me back to the Panama City hotel where I stayed the night at before my flight home. Between the surprise discovery and the aftermath of dealing with them, I got zero sleep and am still haunted to this day. —Stephanie Vermillion

7. Renting a Car in a Foreign Country Can Come with Pricey Curveballs

In 2019, my wife and I bought cheap tickets to Milan, rented a Fiat, and road-tripped through northern Italy. It was thrilling to speed on the mountainous highways and cruise through quaint villages via winding roads that topped out on ridgelines with views of the Mediterranean below. Because it was spring, there were few tourists, so we’d simply park, walk around visiting a plaza or ancient buildings and churches, and continue on. It was all perfect—until we got home.

On a monthly basis, I started getting fines in the mail—for improper parking, speeding, and driving in restricted residential areas without the requisite permit. At first I thought this was a mistake. Then I realized that every fine was in the place we’d visited that day.

After paying hundreds of Euros in penalties, I swore off ever traveling to Italy again. I took to retelling the story of my travails to any Italian who would listen, only to discover this is a common occurrence. One Italian told me that when he returns home, he borrows his mom’s car, breaks countless rules, and racks up ticket after ticket.

My stance on Italy has since softened, but I still get occasional fines in the mail. I refuse to pay them and try to view them as mementos of one of the best trips of my life. —Ryan Krogh

8. Start Earlier than You Think You Need To

Lesson one: Don’t underestimate the approach to a backcountry cabin. My friends and I had booked the Eiseman, a popular Tenth Mountain Division hut in the Gore Range outside Vail, Colorado, and getting there required a six-mile ski tour with nearly 3,000 feet of elevation gain. No problem, we thought. We were a hardy crew of experienced backcountry skiers.

What we didn’t consider was that April’s warming temperatures had turned the snowpack to mush. Combined with a later than expected afternoon departure, the soft, sticky snow glommed to our skins, making travel considerably slow and challenging.

Lesson two: Less is more in the backcountry. We naively stuffed our packs with margarita fixings, avocados, jars of salsa, a foam roller. Needless to say, the ski in took twice as long as expected—we didn’t get to the hut until after dark—and half our crew ended up dropping gear there and returning to lighten the load of the slower folks. We were a total junk show. That said, the taco party sure was fun. ���.��.

9. The Pitfalls of an Undocumented Pilgrim

When I thru-hiked Spain’s Camino de Santiago, I carried the obligatory pilgrim’s passport—a thin leaflet littered with official stamps, tucked in a protective plastic bag. It proved I’d walked what amounted to nearly a marathon a day, and it was also my ticket into cheap albergues: glorified hostels reserved solely for pilgrims, where I could soak my feet, thread blisters, rinse my clothes, and crash hard before rising to repeat it all again.

But one day near the end of the trek, in Galicia, a massive storm rolled in while I was eating a sandwich on the side of the road. I hastily repacked my gear and booked the remaining four miles to the nearest town. When I arrived at the albergue that evening, soaking wet and exhausted, I couldn’t find my pilgrim’s passport, and no pleading with the check-in lady in Spanish would persuade her to give me a bunk without it.

So I retraced my steps, blisters bursting, leg muscles screaming, my head hammered by hail, until I found it blown up against a fence near where I’d stopped for lunch. I never misplaced that passport again. —Patty Hodapp

10. A Different Kind of Wildlife-Watching

Last year on an off-trail backpacking trip to Wrangell–St. Elias National Park, I learned the importance of carrying two to three days of extra food in Alaska. My group was dropped off by a bush plane for a five-day expedition and halfway through the trip, an adolescent grizzly bear ran off with one of our bear cans packed with food. We had to ration supplies for our remaining time, but fortunately, our resourceful guide cobbled together some pretty creative and delicious meals for the final two days. �̧.��.

11. A Case for the Carry-on

At the check-in counter for my flight to Germany, where I’d be joining friends to climb in the , I noticed that airline personnel were chatting as they tagged bags. A fleeting thought crossed my mind: Always look at the tag before your bag sails away. But I didn’t.

I arrived in Nuremberg to watch an unfamiliar duffle bag circle around on the carousel, while someone in Newfoundland was looking at mine. I was in northern Bavaria in late autumn, with no sleeping bag, tent, or puffy jacket. I did have my climbing shoes and harness in my carry-on, so I went on to a house in nearby Erlangen owned by extremely generous German climbers, who were letting some of our group occupy their basement.

When I explained my dilemma to the leading free climber (RIP and bless him forever), he shrugged, waved me toward his closet, and told me to take any of his clothes. There was only one problem: I’m five foot seven, while he was easily six foot one. I wore his stuff for two days. —Alison Osius

12. Frostbite Has Never Felt So Imminent

When I camped on the Greenland Ice Sheet two years ago, I learned the hard way to test my gear before bringing it on a trip. I brought “waterproof gloves” that actually weren’t waterproof at all. My hands were soaked and freezing within minutes of pitching my tent in a very wet, cold snowstorm. It was 14 degrees out. The next morning I had to thaw the gloves over the mess-tent cookstove. —S.V.

13. Tetotaling at Elevation

Alcohol and altitude don’t mix, a rule of thumb that took me two notable times in my life to learn. Once I flew from New York City (sea level) to Vail, Colorado, (8,239 feet) for a fun trip with a friend who was writing a story about a professional skier. The skier was going to take us all around the mountain to his favorite spots. The night before, I enjoyed two large glasses of red wine at dinner but had failed to drink much water that day. I woke up nauseous at 2 A.M., threw up for the next three hours, and missed the ski tour.

The second time I was in Chile’s Atacama Desert, located at 8,200 feet. I was staying at a gorgeous lodge with fantastic food and wine. This was a few years after Vail, and I had long forgotten that incident. So when the beautiful Chilean cabernet was served at dinner, I drank it, but I was hugging the porcelain again early the next morning. I missed an amazing hike up a volcano. Suffice it to say I now don’t drink at altitude and focus on hydrating instead. —Mary Turner

14. Tiny Things That Bite When You Least Expect It

I was working for the student newspaper at Montana State University when I got a fax announcing ridiculously low airfare to Costa Rica for spring break, so my brother, girlfriend, and I all went down there to dirtbag it for a week. We were poor, so we packed hammocks, intending to string them between trees on the beach and sleep there.

We made our way to Montezuma, on the Nicoya Peninsula, which back then had one restaurant and a few houses on sandy “streets.” It was pitch-black when we arrived at the beach, and none of us had a headlamp. My feet felt wet as we crossed what must have been a small stream slipping out of the jungle through leaves. But then the sensation changed and my legs and feet exploded in what felt like fire.

“Ants!” my brother yelled. We’d stumbled right into either a nest or a train of fire ants that proceeded to bite the piss out of our legs. There was nothing to do but strip down and race for the ocean, which we also couldn’t see. Waking up to howler monkeys and swimming the next morning made everything right. —T.��.

The post 13 Travel Mistakes Our Writers Will Never Make Again appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

We are ready for summer. We’ve got our lightweight tents and Tevas out, spend our free time examining trail maps, and have been outdoors soaking up the longer days in preparation for all sorts of adventures. Where are we going this summer? Some of us have plans to escape to tropical Caribbean ports and the high peaks of South America, while others are simply road-tripping one county or one state over for a long weekend escape.

Haven’t nailed down the specifics of your summer vacation yet? It doesn’t have to be spendy, and you can go with friends, family, or solo. Just pick a place that will offer a sense of wonder, a disconnect from your routine, preferably in nature, which has been shown to improve everything from our psyches to our relationships and even heal heartbreak. Here are the trips we’ve booked.

Northern New Mexico

When the heat hits the country with full force in July, my husband and I will head from our home in Santa Fe, New Mexico, up north to cooler climes near Taos. We’re eager to stay at , which isn’t a hotel at all but a grouping of vintage Airstreams all decorated differently. We’ve rented Castor, built in 1972, our best friends have rented the adjacent Pollux, from 1967, and we’ll share a deck. Each trailer has a queen bed, a full kitchen, a bathroom, and views of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. The hiking around Taos is incredible, too, with trails in nearly every direction.

From Luna Mystica, you can walk to the Taos Mesa Brewery’s mothership location, which has a stage and live music many summer nights. Early in the mornings we’ll drive the quick 13 miles to the Black Rock Hot Springs on the Rio Grande; my husband will fly-fish from the wide banks while I soak and enjoy the July traffic through the canyon: dragonflies, swallows, kayakers, hawks, and bright-yellow butterflies.

One day we want to tour the nearby , self-sufficient off-grid homes that look like futuristic dwellings. I’m fascinated by their modern sustainability efforts but also love their incorporation of beautiful, unique design elements—walls made of used tires and earth or accents of recycled glass bottles that glimmer colorfully in the sun. —Tasha Zemke, ���ϳԹ��� managing editor

Ten Sleep Canyon, Wyoming

At some point over the winter, I decided I sucked at climbing. As I dragged my feet out of the gym, devoid of stoke and prepared to suck again the next day, I had no idea how to cure my melodramatic self-diagnosis. But that changed two months ago when I started climbing with the , a mentor program in the Denver area led by big-wall athlete Jordan Cannon. A dozen of my peers and I have attended clinics, trainings, lectures, and meet-ups to define and achieve our climbing goals, and it all culminates in a final trip in June to Ten Sleep, Wyoming.

Why Ten Sleep? This tiny cowboy town in the north-central reaches of the state happens to be the base camp of a massive limestone canyon 15 miles away with more than a thousand sport routes for climbers of every skill level. One of last year’s mentees called it “Shelf Road on steroids”—a reference to a popular Front Range climbing mecca—and noted how the population of the local campground, when filled with climbers, seems bigger than the actual town itself. —, National Park Trips digital content producer

Saint Lucia

My fiancé and I are taking our honeymoon this summer on the Caribbean island of Saint Lucia, best known for two mountains called the Pitons—Gros Piton and Petit Piton. While we’re eager to lounge on the white-sand beaches, snorkel, eat jerk chicken and breadfruit, and enjoy a mud bath at Sulphur Springs, in the dormant Soufrière volcano, we’re most looking forward to guided hikes. I’m especially excited to tackle the Gros Piton Trail (see Gaia GPS map below), which is three miles round-trip, with a little more than 1,800 feet of elevation gain.

We’ve been told this is challenging, but the view from the top of the island and the sea is said to be spectacular. Plus, I plan to set my alarm for an early-morning run just as the sun rises over the sea. —Mallory Arnold, Run associate editor

Machu Picchu, Peru

I’m an editor at Backpacker, and the biggest hiking goal of my life has always been Machu Picchu. I first learned about the ruins in Peru in my middle school history class, and the combination of hiking and Indigenous history intrigued me. A trip to South America seemed like a long shot, but I kept dreaming. Flash forward to the end of May: my college friends and I are going international on our annual reunion trekking trip. We’ll fly into Cuzco and spend two days acclimatizing to the altitude—a little more than 11,000 feet—while touring the city before hitting the Inca Trail with , a sustainable-tourism company.

For four days we’ll hike between 7,218 and 13,780 feet before ending at the famous Inca site. With porters carrying our belongings and chefs cooking our meals, this is going to be a lot more glamorous than my usual excursions to the backcountry. I can’t wait. But there’s a more personal reason why this trip is particularly meaningful to me: I recently learned that a suspicious mole was actually stage-one melanoma and was sidelined for weeks in between procedures. I can’t imagine a better place to celebrate being cancer-free. — Emma Veidt, Backpacker associate editor

Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado

My theme for the summer is: Stay local, but get far, far away. From our home in Boulder, Colorado, my wife and I can drive to Rocky Mountain National Park in less than two hours, and we’ve exploited that proximity to visit many of the park’s peaks, lakes, and trails. Not surprisingly, popular spots are often packed with other nature lovers. So this year we’re taking advantage of a little-used type of wilderness permit to escape the crowds. We’ve reserved long weekends in four of Rocky’s 23 , remote areas without developed trails or campsites, where we’ll likely see more elk and moose than people.

Hidden in some of the park’s most rugged terrain, typically at elevations of 9,000 to 11,000 feet, these zones require expert navigation skills and total self-reliance. Expect rangers at the backcountry desk to quiz you on bear safety, Leave No Trace ethics, orienteering know-how, and prior wilderness experience before issuing your permit, and expect challenging bushwhacking through dense forest. But the reward is worth the effort: the crisp, star-filled nights, high-country wildflowers, and Alaska-worthy solitude will make you feel much farther from civilization than you actually are.

Fair warning: the park provides scant information about the zones, and trip reports are few and far between. Your best bet is to download the and subscribe to the Premium edition so you can access detailed topo maps for offline use (there’s typically no cell reception in these zones). Study the terrain closely before you go, and don’t expect to cover more than one mile per hour. —Jonathan Dorn, ���ϳԹ���, Inc., chief entertainment officer

Switzerland

When I realized I’d be spending my 30th birthday in Europe, I only had two nonnegotiables: Alpine hiking and cheese. Switzerland, specifically the Lauterbrunnen Valley, perfectly fit that bill. My husband and I are planning to spend four nights in the central Jungfrau region: one in a village hotel at each end of the valley, and two at the remote , an off-grid hut that’s only accessible by foot through forests and wildflower-filled pastures. (See Gaia GPS map to the hut below.) Reservations can only be made by phone, a charming and slightly confusing experience that secured us a bed in a private room, breakfast, and dinner for two days for about $106 per person per night.

We’ll fill our days ascending the area’s many trails in the shadow of imposing peaks, past some of the valley’s 72 waterfalls, and our evenings eating hearty meals, including Obersteinberg’s homemade cheese. I’m crossing my fingers that raclette is served–my favorite Swiss dish, it consists of melted cheese scraped over potatoes–but if not, I’ll indulge back in town with a celebratory pot of fondue.

We’re traveling to Switzerland by car but will leave it parked in Interlaken to take advantage of the valley’s excellent public transportation (think: trains, trams, and gondolas), as many of the hamlets are otherwise inaccessible. —Mikaela Ruland, National Park Trips editor in chief

Victoria, British Columbia

Last year my husband and I became rooftop-tent converts in Iceland. I’ve pitched and slept in backpacking tents my whole life, and I never thought I’d be into a roof rig until our European rental experience went right. We realized it can take us two minutes, instead of twenty, to set up or break down camp. Plus, memory foam is so much comfier than the ground, and our gear stays a helluva lot more organized inside the vehicle.

So we scored an open-box deal on a , and this summer we’re taking it for a spin from New Mexico up through the Pacific Northwest to Canada. We’ll hit campsites near Olympic National Park along the way, before ferrying to Victoria, British Columbia, to hang out at an oceanside apartment along a 70-mile bike path for six weeks. We’re stoked to beat the heat, enjoy the nearness of open water, and work from a place that’s new to us both where we can trail-run through the backcountry.

On our way home, we’ll swing through Banff, in Alberta, then Glacier National Park, in Montana—two bucket-list areas I’ve been dying to check out. The best part? My husband is the king of finding last-minute camping reservations, so I barely had to lift a finger to map it all out. —Patty Hodapp, ���ϳԹ��� Online interim digital director

Paris and Annecy, France

I’m heading to Paris for the Summer Games! I’ve been a huge fan of the Olympics for as long as I can remember, and about a year ago I haphazardly put my name on an email list for the ticket lottery. I didn’t put much thought into the idea of actually attending, until I beat out thousands of other eager fans (a process that saw me awake at 3 A.M., repeatedly refreshing my browser) to secure two tickets to men’s rowing in late July.

This will be my third time to the French capital, so after the event concludes and I’ve gotten my fill of Olympic pride, I plan to head southeast to Annecy, a town on the French-Swiss border, for a long weekend in the fresh Alpine air. I’ll brave the frigid temperatures of Lake Annecy, stroll Jardins de ’Europe, and of course do some hiking. Routes to the Citadel of Lake Annecy and the Parmelan Plateau have already caught my eye, but like most things, there’s something to be said for going in with half a plan and figuring out the rest later. —Jamie Aranoff, Ski digital editor

British Columbia’s West Coast Trail

Ever since writer Scott Yorko pitched me on the deadly history of Canada’s (see Gaia GPS map below) a number of years ago, I’ve wanted to see the area’s storied shipwrecks, beaches, and wildlife for myself. Yorko wrote not only of the dramatic rescue attempts that led to this 48-mile path’s construction along British Columbia’s rugged coast but also of sandy campsites, verdant rainforest walks, tide pools brimming with sea life, and a floating crab shack that caters to hungry hikers.

In June, I’ll finally experience the trail for myself. I’m prepared for slow miles through boot-sucking mud, rickety wooden ladders, cable cars, and changing tides. With any luck, my partner and I will spot sea lions, whales, and otters; bears, cougars, and wolves are also known to wander the shore. The salty air and marine views should be a welcome departure from the alpine hikes I usually gravitate toward in the summer, and I couldn’t be more excited. —Zoe Gates, Backpacker senior editor

The Andes, Chile

In 2013, I spent five months living in southern Chile. But that was before I was a skier. In the intervening decade, I’ve spent 100 days on snow almost every year. I rarely travel away from my home in the eastern Sierra to ski these days, but my ultimate dream trip is a ski trip to Chile and Argentina. This is the year that becomes a reality. In August, when the austral winter is in full swing, my fiancée and I will fly from Los Angeles to Santiago and enjoy the change of scenery while sipping pisco sours, sightseeing at the Pablo Neruda museum, and checking out the mountaintop zoo. The following day we’ll take a bus to Portillo, a resort nestled among the Andes that’s famous for runs that empty out at Laguna del Inca, for three days on the slopes, and after that, we’ll travel southeast to Las Leñas, in Argentina, for a final two days of skiing above wine country. I never much cared for summer anyway. —Jake Stern, ���ϳԹ��� Online digital editor

The post Seize the Summer! 10 Incredible Trips Our Editors Are Taking. appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

Puerto Rico

Why Now: After rebounding from a series of devastating earthquakes in 2019 and 2020—and Hurricane Maria in 2017—this U.S. territory (read: no passport required for Americans) quickly became one of the hottest destinations in the Caribbean. Although it has long been a favorite with surfers, 36 years have passed since Puerto Rico hosted the sport’s world championships. But in February, the Atlantic town of Arecibo, an hour west of the capital city of San Juan, welcomed the 2024 International Surfing Association’s World Surfing Games, the final qualifier in the run-up to the Summer Olympics, putting its shores’ serious swells back on the map. It’s easier to get there now, too. In recent months, three affordable carriers have begun nonstop service to San Juan—Avelo Airlines, from Philadelphia and New Haven, Connecticut; JetBlue, from Raleigh, North Carolina (and from Tampa, Florida, to Aguadilla, on the west coast, not far from the low-key surf scene in Rincón); and Spirit, from Fort Myers, Florida. Southwest is expected to join the bandwagon with direct flights from Austin, Texas, starting March 9.

���ϳԹ��� Intel: In sunny San Juan, offers everything from beginner lessons to guided tours of breaks at Playa El Escambrón and Isla Verde. For a different kind of paddling, take a short flight from the capital to the charming island of Vieques to kayak the glowing waters of Mosquito Bay, a natural reserve offering one of the brightest bioluminescent displays in the world. Pirate Bio Bay Tours leads groups in clear-bottomed kayaks. Vieques is also an idyllic place to stay for a couple of nights; its white-sand beaches are always stunning. Or keep to the mainland and head for the interior: at El Yunque National Forest, you can hike past waterfalls and ancient petroglyphs to take a dip in the swimming hole at El Hippie. The Ritz-Carlton San Juan, closed since Hurricane Maria hit, is slated to reopen in the beachfront Isla Verde zone in late 2024. Or opt for a more local, artsy vibe at the year-old (and already award-winning) in Miramar. Can’t decide? Travel the island’s entire 110-mile coastline at your own pace via the Puerto Rico Sunshine Route, stopping at any number of gorgeous beaches, like eastern Fajardo, secluded Aguadilla, and the pink salt flats of Cabo Rojo.

Local Tip: La 8 Surf Shop, known locally as La Ocho, across from the San Juan beach Escambrón, rents boards and will give you advice on where to go, says Surf with a Pro founder Alejandro Moreda. After surfing, “Get yourself a mofongo, a traditional dish made from fried plantains,” at cozy La Casita Blanca. —Megan Michelson

The post The 23 Best Places to Travel in 2024 appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

Get out the pack, Jack. Make a romantic plan, Fran. No time to be coy, Roy. OK, you get the drift.

With Valentine’s Day on the horizon, maybe you’re looking to impress someone with a night or two that will ignite the fire. We’ve got you covered, with our favorite romantic getaways of all time. These trips are perfect for best buds and to save for future mates, too.

The ���ϳԹ��� staff have pretty much ditched the roses-and-chocolate rigamarole in favor of road trips to remote Southwestern desertscapes, ridgetop hikes, and fly-fishing excursions followed by steamy soaks in hot springs. Because, for most of us, nothing cements a relationship like��outdoor appreciation. If your partner doesn’t share the awe of a spectacular sunset, the joy of a sweaty mountain-bike ride, or the seduction of fireflies on a porch in Appalachia, we ask: Is that person really for you?

Here are some of the best romantic getaways that have sparked ���ϳԹ��� relationships and friendships over the years.

Isle Royale National Park

Location:��Lake Superior, Michigan

Price:��$7 per person, per day for backcountry permits; one-way ferry and sea plane fares from $90 and $275, respectively

Why We Love It: In 2020, I met the love of my life at the Rock Harbor Trailhead in northeastern Isle Royale, a national-park archipelago in Lake Superior. Due to pandemic restrictions, the isle was accessible only by seaplane, so I , for a solo, seven-day, 75-mile-ish backpacking trip. I had no concrete plans other than to criss-cross the island southwest to Windigo, hitting the bays, ridges, Superior shoreline, and interior lakes along the way.

I had just snagged a permit from the ranger station, strapped my fly rod to my pack, and was about to set off when I noticed a tall, blonde guy stumble out of the bushes. He was dirty, bug-bitten, sunburned, and full of trekking beta. I struck up a conversation: Where had he gone? How about the coolest vistas? Must-stop camp spots? Trails to avoid or take?

We talked for 20 minutes, and parted ways with smiles but no phone numbers—me, to the trail; him, to catch a seaplane out. A month later, he tracked me down on Linked In to see how my trip went. Six months later, we met up for a trail run in Sedona, Arizona. A year later, we got engaged and married. But here’s where it gets good: We returned to Isle Royale for our honeymoon.

From our seaplane drop in Windigo, we backpacked for a week, averaging about 14-16 miles per day, charging through both fresh and familiar territory up toward Rock Harbor. We started with the 30-mile in the southeast, where we encountered bull moose with five-foot racks in marshy spits, fields of purple, yellow, and red wildflowers, and turquoise Superior vistas from the fire tower. Then, we pushed north to , where we hunkered down on the lakeshore with freeze-dried chili mac and cheese, and slept under the stars to a symphony of howling wolves. After, we climbed along the spine of the island via the , stopping at Lake Desor to soak aching feet and rest, before trekking to in the west for an orange-sherbet sunset. We polished off our trip playing cards and hiding from cheek-reddening wind at Moskey Basin in our tent, before plunging into Superior and cracking cold beers from Rock Harbor’s camp store. It was tough to board our seaplane out, but we’ll be back throughout our lives. I can’t think of a better, more meaningful place to celebrate getting hitched. —Patty Hodapp, ���ϳԹ��� senior digital travel editor

Location: Southeast Utah

Price: Free

Why We Love It: When my wife and I discuss the formative months of our relationship, we inevitably begin to reminisce about a weeklong 2016 meander through southeastern Utah. A maiden road trip is the ultimate relationship test. Can we get along for hours on end in the car? Are our tastes in music compatible? Are we both comfortable with a blank itinerary and no clue where we’re going to eat or sleep each night? Pringles or Doritos? It was on the first day of that trip that we learned the answers: yes, yes, yes, Doritos. We were a perfect match.

If you were to ask us to pinpoint the location where everything fell into place, we’d also provide matching answers: , about two and a half hours south of Moab. Tucked between Bears Ears National Monument to the north and Goosenecks State Park to the south, this 152-square-mile plot of BLM-managed land is sometimes referred to as Little Monument Valley. Explore it via its 17-mile dirt access road and you’re quickly surrounded by the same massive sandstone spires you’ve seen in countless westerns and postcards, but with hardly any other visitors competing for the photo ops.

We turned onto that road around 4 P.M., drove six miles in, and turned again onto a short, dead-end spur road, where we pitched our tent just beside a massive wash. Then we cracked open some beers and sat on the back of my car to watch the sunset. There were no other sounds in the universe save for the whoosh of an occasional breeze, and the colors changed every two minutes. Most people probably wouldn’t describe Valley of the Gods’ rugged, barren landscape as romantic. But for a magic half hour each evening, I can’t think of a more romantic place on earth. —Christopher Keyes, ���ϳԹ��� Inc. vice president and general manager, Outdoors

Los Poblanos Historic Inn and Organic Farm

Location: Albuquerque, New Mexico

Cost: From $350

Why We Love It: If a 25-acre lavender farm with wandering llamas, artisanal purple gin cocktails, and beautiful gardens and courtyards that the affianced dream of booking for their weddings doesn’t appeal to your romantic sensibilities, this place will change your mind. Los Poblanos is a lovely, quiet getaway from the whirrings of the world. I recommend it frequently to friends or generally anyone traveling through Albuquerque with time to spare.

My husband and I came here to celebrate an anniversary years before the media began bestowing it with awards, but we have returned a handful of times since, to enjoy family celebrations at its farm-to-table restaurant, Campo; sit down to a leisurely brunch (we can’t seem to order anything but the eggs Benedict—those homemade English muffins are worth the hourlong commute); and take part in the convivial that are quickly booked by local Burqueños and held at one or two very long tables.

Stay a night or two in a North Field room with a fireplace (make this request, as not all have them), but get there early enough to spend time out on the patio, surrounded by the rows of lavender, at their height in June, and watch the shadow of dusk fall slowly over the towering Sandia Mountains. If the weather’s nice, and it tends to be in Albuquerque, borrow a bike and ride along the Rio Grande. Make s’mores at the fire pit. Wake up late and walk the farm’s fields, visit the chickens. Savor the relaxed pastoral atmosphere. Time with your partner in such a setting can’t but work wonders. It has for us. —Tasha Zemke, ���ϳԹ��� associate managing editor

Lake Crescent Lodge

Location: Inside��Olympic National Park, Washington

Price: $211

Why We Love It: Lake Crescent is my happy place. Its perfectly clear, deep blue waters are ringed by majestic evergreens and framed by rolling mountains. The best spot along its perimeter is the , a white, Victorian-style property built in 1916. There’s a beautiful sunroom for grabbing drinks, and a verdant lawn rolls down to the waterfront, where Adirondack chairs are positioned perfectly for sunset viewing. There is also a sit-down restaurant on-site, but national park food always leaves something to be desired, so instead, my husband and I opt to grab takeout from Frugals, a burger drive-through in Port Angeles, and enjoy a picnic by the lake.

For my 25th birthday, we managed to snag a room in Lake Crescent’s historic lodge building. There are newer buildings and cabins on the premises that offer private bathrooms, but the original lodge, with its lace curtains and wood paneling, charmed us. Each year my husband grants me my birthday wish—a canoe paddle on one mountain lake or another. It’s the only day of the year he’ll get in a watercraft with me, due to my hopeless paddling skills. After 20 minutes of me steering us in circles, he patiently does all the work to navigate us around the lake while I take pictures and eat sandwiches. It’s heaven.

That year we grabbed the earliest canoe rental possible–7 A.M.—and took off across Lake Crescent before any motorized boats ventured forth. The water was like glass, and early-morning fog rose from its surface. We peered down at submerged logs and skirted the shoreline to avoid the more than 600-foot icy depths with no sounds other than birdsong. —Mikaela Ruland, National Park Trips associate content director

Ojo Caliente and Taos Spa, Resort and Hot Springs

Location: Ojo Caliente, New Mexico

Price: From $239 per night; from $45 for soaks on weekdays

Why We Love It: Angie knew what was coming when we left Denver for an extended weekend getaway in Taos, New Mexico, a few years ago. We’d been together for three years and had spent the previous eight months discussing our future and The Big Question. It was time. We’d already picked out the engagement ring and planned an itinerary:�� Dinner at . A hike in the Sangre de Cristos. An afternoon in downtown’s plaza.

But our most anticipated spot was , a well-known spa resort west of Taos. We’d visited Ojo Caliente (Spanish for “hot eye”) the year before, and it immediately became our favorite hot springs. Seven outdoor geothermal pools of varying warmth surround a cool soaking pool and mud bath. The smell of burning cedar and mesquite waft through the grounds. Staff ask everyone to keep conversations to a whisper. And the compound is tranquil, tucked in among the piñon and cottonwood trees at the base of a rocky bluff and��surrounded by a network of hiking trails.

We kicked off our getaway by spending a day in relative silence, soaking in the hot water, enjoying each other’s company, and unwinding with a massage. We booked a private pool and ate at Ojo’s restaurant that evening. Two days later, we hiked up 13,167-foot Wheeler Peak and exchanged rings at the top, just as we had planned. —, ���ϳԹ��� articles editor

The Grand Traverse

Location: Grand Tetons, Wyoming

Price: Variable, depending on whether you do it yourself or use a guide company

Why We Love It: When my girlfriend and I started dating, we thought it would be a good idea to try the Grand Traverse, a 14-mile line across ten summits with 24,000 feet of vert. She had lots of experience climbing, but she’d never been on a multi-pitch adventure before, let alone a multiday alpine effort. For some reason, we decided it was a good idea anyway. Over three days in July, with the help of , we traversed the Teton skyline, moving fast over complicated terrain, camping in a tiny tent on small ledges, and relishing in the splitter weather. It was the kind of trip that either demolishes a relationship or hardens it into something that lasts. We’ve been together for nearly a decade since. —Matt Skenazy, former ���ϳԹ��� features editor

Granite Park Chalet

Location: Glacier National Park, Montana

Price: From $140

Why We Love It: When my wife and I got married in September of 2000, our grandparents weren’t happy. Not because they didn’t like our choice of partner, but because they couldn’t attend the wedding. The 7.6-mile hike to the remote site we’d chosen to tie the knot—Glacier National Park’s historic —was just too much. But we were enamored with the century-old stone-and-wood structure, located just west of the Continental Divide, atop a hill with sweeping views of Glacier’s peaks and valleys, scenery made even more spectacular by the light show that happens when the sun dips below the jagged horizon.

Our wedding party, just under 30 strong, trekked to the chalet via the , which hugs the famed Garden Wall, a sharp ridge that at the time was laced with glittering streams and sprays of wildflowers. If you find romance sleeping at tree line in an alpine wonderland, miles deep in the wilderness, Granite Park Chalet is your spot. But full disclosure: room service is not one of the perks. You’ll cook meals on the chalet’s propane stove and schlep water from a nearby creek.

Yes, we pressed our wedding guests into pack duty, asking them to help us haul in three days’ worth of drinks and food. My mother-in-law-to-be baked a wedding cake on-site, and the bridesmaid decorated the chalet’s community dining room. But the collaborative spirit only added to the allure of holding our celebration here. How good was the reception? After seeing the pictures, even our grandparents were happy. —Dennis Lewon, ���ϳԹ��� Inc. director of content

Shenandoah National Park

Location: Near Sperryville, Virginia

Price: Variable, depending on whether you pitch a tent in the park (campsites from $30) or stay at a local Airbnb or hotel

Why We Love It: They say Virginia is for lovers. I haven’t traveled enough around the state to vouch for that, but I’ve spent many weekends at this national park, and I think you could honestly say that the Shenandoahs are for soulmates. Just north of Sperryville, in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, there’s a dirt road that distances you from gas stations and billboards and delivers you to the base of a gorge known as . Each time my then-boyfriend and I set off on the modestly challenging two-mile trail, the hushed vibe instantly reset our moods and our rhythm.

There’s something different about this place, unlike other hikes I’ve known, and how it sequesters you among the crowded trees, obscuring daylight. Away from the tensions of everyday life, it brought on an almost tangible expression of what filmmaker Jason Silva refers to as a “.” We navigated moss-covered rocks and fallen trees, danced in a stream, gawked at what appeared to be bear tracks, geeked out at the geography, and paused solemnly at a cemetery.

We stayed at a rustic (and slightly terrifying) old cabin loaned to us by a friend. It had shoddy cell reception but was comfortingly close to the trail and replete with an outdoor shower, cast-iron cookware, firewood, and our hauled-in provisions. Sitting on the porch at dusk, we joked about DIY glamping��while sipping Champagne and watching fireflies the size of lanterns dance with the constellations. My memories have since outlasted that relationship, so “soulmates” may not be entirely accurate. But then, as with pretty much anything in life, it is what you make of it in the moment. —Renee Marie Schettler, Yoga Journal executive editor

Sun Mountain Lodge

Location: Winthrop, Washington

Price: From $172

Why We Love It:�� The magnificent views here have been awing guests for decades. Established in 1968 in central Washington’s Methow River Valley, the is an aerie atop a foothill boasting immense 360-degree vistas: the mountain terraces and spires of the North Cascades and thousands of acres of Okanogan-Wenatchee National Forest. Guest rooms and a dining room are built around those views. I’ve been fortunate to stay here four times, teaching writing classes for the and hiking on glacially carved slopes where strong winds cause trees to grow sideways.

I have been here with friends and colleagues, but never a romantic partner: I wish! Instead, each time, I sent my husband and our two sons cascades of photos: Mount Gardner from my room, the horse ranch I can spy from my class, the nearby Lake Patterson, where people fish, and even the stuffed bison in the lobby (his name is Floyd) and the massive musk ox and caribou heads mounted above the fireplace. Every season has its charms: sunflowers and wildflowers in spring and summer, the brilliant red foliage of fall, and, in winter, snow (not to mention the annual , a 40K race that begins on the valley floor, continues on what’s touted as North America’s largest ski-trail network, and finishes at the lodge).

My husband would love to skate-ski here. We’d both like to tackle some of the daylong rock climbs around Mazama, 23 miles to the northwest. My friend Jill LaRue, a nurse who works the conference, mountain bikes the trails around the lodge. If you hadn’t packed for all of the recreational possibilities, you can square things away at the lodge’s sizable gear-rental shop. This being Washington, it is perhaps unsurprising that the salmon served at the lodge is always great. And if you have time for further exploring, you might try snacks and soup at the Rocking Horse Bakery and Little Dipper Cafe in the quintessential mountain town of Winthrop, ten miles east, or visit the funky cabin-like Mazama Store in Mazama. —Alison Osius, ���ϳԹ��� travel editor

The Highlands at Harbor Springs

Location: Harbor Springs, Michigan

Price: From $200

Why We Love It: I am turning 40 this month, and to celebrate, my husband and I are spending our first weekend away from our three-and-a-half-year-old. We didn’t want to travel too far, and we also wanted something that both felt luxurious and had skiing. That last bit was important—I was born and raised in Sun Valley, Idaho, and having recently relocated to northern Michigan from New Mexico, I thought our skiing options would be fairly limited.

But then I discovered the “Deer Valley of the Midwest,” (formerly known as Boyne Highlands). Booked! We’re staying in a slopeside Gleneagles Ultra Luxury Suite in the resort’s historic and recently renovated main lodge, and I’m looking forward to the soaking tub, Italian linen sheets, bidet, record player, included breakfast, and ski-valet service. And the highlight: a snowcat-accessed moonlight dinner at the resort’s mountaintop North Peak restaurant the night of my birthday.

It’s not going to be the deepest skiing of my life, or even my season, but I can’t imagine a better way to turn 40 than a fancy, toddler-free ski weekend with my favorite ski partner. —, ���ϳԹ��� Inc. director of digital sales strategy

Red Cliffs Lodge

Location: Moab, Utah

Price: From $129

I didn’t actually go on a romantic getaway to just outside Moab with my partner. I went on a romantic getaway there with myself. But this lovely lodge—recently acquired by Marriott—has been top of my list for a weekend with my husband soon.

Bonding over new experiences as a couple is awesome, and there are plenty of ways to do that at Red Cliffs. The lodge offers great amenities, and also serves as an adventure concierge. During my stay, I checked out the onsite and relaxed with a sound bath. The Lodge also arranged a guided canyoneering trip with , and an Arches stargazing photography tour at 1 a.m.

The lodge itself sits 25 minutes from the Arches entrance, 14 miles up Grandstaff Canyon alongside the Colorado River. And you don’t have to head into the town of Moab to go on a climbing, mountain biking, or hiking date. Climb at nearby Fisher Towers or boulder at Big Bend. Shuttle the Whole Enchilada. Take a hike on Grandstaff Trail. Or go for a scenic drive up into the La Sals.

No phone service, the pastoral setting, and the soothing sound of the Colorado River don’t hurt the romantic vibes either.

If you’re heading to Red Cliffs soon, keep in mind that the property is under renovation until early 2026, so some areas are closed and some offerings/amenities are temporarily on pause.��—, Climbing editor in chief

Lake Creek Road Dispersed Camping Area

Location: Ketchum, Idaho

Cost: Free

Why We Love It: A few summers back, my boyfriend and I went on a quest for a weekend retreat in Idaho that led us just beyond Ketchum, to the Lake Creek Road camping area. Nestled along the eponymous creek, it became the perfect haven for a few days of mountain-biking adventures and tranquil post-ride relaxation. The beginner-friendly , which guided us to a mesmerizing��vista, was practically at our doorstep. The , weaving through sage and aspen, provided a captivating forested singletrack experience, revealing glimpses of the majestic Pioneer Mountains.

Also close by was Frenchman’s Hot Springs, an idyllic setting for rejuvenating soaks, enhanced by the refreshing flow of the nearby Warm Springs Creek. What made the getaway truly special was the sense of being off-grid, with no interruptions from cell-phone service, allowing us to fully immerse ourselves in the weekend. Evenings were spent reconnecting by the campfire under the incredibly bright stars. It was a much needed escape from the ordinary. —Sierra Shafer, Ski editor in chief

The New Mexico–Colorado Borderlands

Location: The San Juan River and Pagosa Springs

Price: $500 for a day of guided fishing; rooms at The Springs Resort and Spa starting at $340

Why We Love It: Over Thanksgiving, my boyfriend booked a day of fly-fishing from a drift boat on the San Juan River, a fishery in northern New Mexico that’s well-known for its absolutely massive trout. There are a few area outfitters with similar offerings, like and . Neither of us had ever fished with a guide, and after countless long days wading upriver and tying rig after rig, it was a treat to have someone else do the dirty work so we could just fish. Then we drove through a blizzard to Pagosa Springs, Colorado, about an hour and a half away from the takeout, to stay at the��, where we soaked late into the night. The next day we caught little trout in the river below the resort and once again soaked until we were prunes. This is a good trip to take in the colder months, when there are smaller crowds on the (very popular) river. And the hot springs are that much sweeter when the weather’s unfriendly. —Abigail Barronian, ���ϳԹ��� senior editor

Cape Alava, Olympic Wilderness Coast

Location: Olympic National Park, Washington

Price: $8 per person per night for a backcountry-camping permit; park-entrance fee additional

Why We Love It: The northern stretch of Olympic National Park coastline is pretty much my favorite place on earth, period. It’s the place where I always feel totally present, which is the main reason I’d take a partner there for some quality time. The ocean, the remove from roads and other people, and the terrible cell service make the rest of my life seem very distant, and the world shrinks to the rocky beach, the waves, and my companions. The tide pools full of anemones, starfish, and other sea life in the large intertidal zone at Cape Alava make it my preferred spot, and you can pitch a tent at dozens of campsites strung out along the rocky beaches.

Starting at the Lake Ozette ranger station, it’s a three-ish mile hike through windblown forests and peat bogs on a well-maintained trail to reach the cape. The effort-to-scenic-payoff ratio is unmatched, and the mellow route to campsites on the coast avoids a few backpacking pitfalls that can spoil the romance—no one is going to bonk, it’s easy to loop back to the car for forgotten essentials, and the short distance means you can bring extra goodies like a bottle of wine or a small watermelon.

The downsides include the long drive to get there (five hours from Seattle, longer if you have to wait at the ferry), the hassle of , and potential storms and high winds once you’ve arrived. Full disclosure: I’ve never taken a partner here, just friends, although one friend I brought along did leave the coast as more than a friend, so make of that what you will. But if I ever wanted to spend a few days with a sweetheart, to simply enjoy the picturesque surroundings and each other’s company, I’d take them to Cape Alava. —Miyo McGinn, ���ϳԹ��� assistant editor

AutoCamp Joshua Tree

Location: Joshua Tree, California

Price: From $223

Why We Love It: Think of romance, and you might think of iconic destinations like Paris or Venice, but I feel most connected to my partner when we visit Joshua Tree. We recently stayed in for an overnight excursion to the high desert, and the amenities and proximity to the national park—a quick six miles—made it one of our loveliest weekends together. The property’s Airstreams have been converted into trendy tiny homes but offer the novelty of vanlife. (And when you’re living out of your van in wintertime, there’s no complimentary hot cocoa and cider bar, as there is here the entire month of December.)

We had a great time in ours: the beds are plush, the bathrooms are large, and there’s heating and A/C. Also, every airstream unit comes with a private outdoor fire pit and dining area with a table and chairs, so you can cozy up next to your beau and toast with s’mores while stargazing up one of the darkest, most decorated skies in the world. Not interested in sleeping in a converted Airstream? Check out its cabins. AutoCamp is so romantic that it literally hosts weddings on-site at its large gathering space. It also hosts loads of activities, day and night, from themed hikes and new-moon soundbaths to concerts and cultural tours. —Emma Veidt, Backpacker associate editor

Garnet Mountain Fire Lookout

Location: Custer Gallatin National Forest, Montana

Price: $73

Why We Love It: More than 8,000 fire towers perched on high points across the U.S. at their peak in the 1950s, giving lookouts a vantage to spot the telltale curl of a wildfire start before it could spread. Today, only a fraction of those still stand. But at a few of them, backpackers can spend the night, enjoying panoramic views and stellar mountaintop stargazing for themselves.

For the first anniversary of our first date, the woman who is now my wife and I ventured up to one of those—, elevation 8,245 feet—to try and claim some of that magic. From Bozeman, it’s a 26-mile drive to the ��and from there it was a 3.5-mile hike to the summit, through a conifer forest and wide-open mountain meadows that still held late-spring snow on their western faces. Before long we’d settled into the fire tower, a squat, two-story building with a woodshed on the bottom and a full wraparound porch surrounding the square living quarters on top. Furnishings were solid but spartan—a small pantry, a propane burner and wood stove, a table, and four bunks, each just big enough for two determined lovebirds to squeeze into. But when that night’s sunset lit the hills, I would have taken it over any palace. —Adam Roy, Backpacker executive editor

International Bonus: Hvammsvik Hot Springs and Northern Lights

Location:��Mosfellsbær, Snaefellsnes Peninsula, Iceland

Price: Soak from $38

Why We Love It: A couple of years ago, to celebrate our first wedding anniversary, my husband and I cruised around southwest Iceland for six days. We love a thermal-springs soak after hard hikes and trail runs, and prefer to dodge crowds and drive less, so this smallish outdoor mecca was a no-brainer addition to the end of a stint in Ireland.

We rented a Dacia Duster 4X4 with a rooftop tent in Reykjavík ($900 for five days, tricked out with sleeping and cooking essentials and a hot spot for GPS, via ) and headed out with no agenda except to explore the country’s remote terrain rich with waterfalls, lava fields, alpine valleys, and camping spots. A few days in, we decided we needed a geothermal soak. So we headed west along offshoot F-roads (F��for������ä����, which means “mountain” in Icelandic) to on the Snaefellsnes fjord. There, we spent hours hopping from one pool to the next, mowing down salads from its on-site bistro, and sipping champagne from its swim-up bar—glorious rewards after miles on backcountry trails. After we plunged into the Atlantic to scrub our dirt and sweat away, we scored a campspot nearby, made pasta on the stove, and kicked back to watch the most dazzling five-hour northern lights show we’ve ever seen. All told, we’ve been lucky to share lots of romantic moments in stunning places worldwide, but this memory tops our list. ‱�.��.

International Bonus: Kasbah Tamadot

Location: Atlas Mountains, Morocco

Price: From MAD 7,550 per night (roughly US $775)

Why We Love It: As a couple, it can be tempting to take the easy route when traveling overseas, the road more traveled. Relationships are adventurous enough. Why add more blind corners?

Sometimes, though, it pays to explore the back roads.

Such was the case for my wife and I during a delayed honeymoon to Morocco, two years after we were married. Neither of us had been to the North African country when we decided to spend a week in Marrakech, a well-trodden tourist destination that somehow remains as mystical as it must have been when 16th century sultans ruled it. Today, the medina is full of souks selling Berber rugs, piles of spices, and elaborate kaftans—not to mention a long list of bougie hotels. Basically, you know it’s going to be comfortable, even for my wife, Keren, whose idea of roughing it is an outdoor massage.

Me, I’m a sop for “off-the-beaten path” experiences. I can’t think of anything more boring than an afternoon massage, which is why I insisted on spending at least a few nights in the mountains outside of Marrakech. So I decided unilaterally, because I was in charge of reservations, to book us into , a private home turned remote retreat overlooking a river valley in the foothills of the Atlas Mountains.

The resort, an hour and a half outside of Marrakech, is centered around a large 1920s riad, a traditional Moroccan house with rooms surrounding a central, tiled courtyard. The grounds of Tamadot include gardens, an oversized pool, fancy Berber tents for glamping, and a little farm with camels, donkeys, and chickens, among other critters. There’s even a Turkish bath and spa. Despite the extensive grounds and long list of upscale amenities, everything about Tamadot feels intimate, like being welcomed into a family home, one with multiple fountains covered in floating flower petals.

Oh, it also happens to be owned by Richard Branson, whose mom fell in love with the riad years ago, so he bought it and transformed it into the oasis it has become. Let’s be clear, this isn’t exactly the road less traveled, despite its surroundings, but Tamadot was my concession to my wife, so I could do all the other things I wanted to do.

The end of the valley, for example, is a popular launch point for trekking in the mountains, including to the summit of Toubkal, the highest peak in North Africa. With Kasbah Tamadot as our base camp, we were easily able to explore the valley’s upper villages, including Imlil, which is often referred to as the Moroccan Chamonix. After a hike on our first full day, we were welcomed into a local’s home that doubled as a makeshift restaurant. We sat next to a low table on elaborately-sewn cushions and were served a traditional vegetable tagine, heated over a wood fire in the backyard. The vegetables—carrots, potatoes, peas, and zucchini—were cooked to perfection, and served with a platter of steaming couscous. Keren, as a vegetarian, had been struggling to find food she liked for days, even in Marrakesh. Here, after a long hike, we finished even the last bite.

The following day, we visited a woman-owned cooperative producing and selling argan-oil products—soaps, moisturizers, and other cosmetics. We bought a bag-full of their wares. In the afternoon, I hiked up a ridgeline while Keren visited the animals at the farm. On our final day, I arranged a motorcycle tour—set up through the tourism company —that would take us through the mountains to the Agafay Desert.

In the U.S., Keren wouldn’t get on a motorcycle if ashes from a volcano were about to rain down on us. “Those things are death traps,” she kept saying in advance of the day. But when our driver, Hussein, pulled up to Tamadot’s front gate on a Chang Jiang 750, a vintage Chinese bike outfitted with a leather-seated sidecar—one that happens to be stylish as hell—the magic of the moment took over. We both saddled up and spent the entire day on the motorcycle, careening down dirt roads, visiting a small village in the desert with an ancient mosque, and walking through a narrow, ancient souk. The vendors and locals stared at us every step of the way, as if we were the first foreigners they’d even seen. We bought candy and shared it with local kids running on the streets.

Halfway through the day, we stopped at the home of a prominent Iman now occupied by his great-grandson. Our host served us wild mint tea and cookies, pouring the kettle from high above his head into small cups held below his waist. It was the traditional pouring style, he explained, a sign of hospitality and respect, because the long pour created foam on top of the tea to catch the dust in the desert air. I’ve never felt a more welcoming gesture.

Back at the resort that evening, the staff of Kasbah Tamadot had left a bottle of Moroccan grenache and glasses on our nightstand, along with rose petals on the bed. The forced romance might have felt mawkish, but after a long day on the bike, we sat silently on the terrace with a glass each, watching the sun disappear.

After two years of marriage, it was clear we had both fallen in love again—with a new country, slightly expanded versions of ourselves. A simple willingness to explore, despite our reservations, brought us together in a way that no ceremony could.

The next morning, I even ventured over to the spa, hand in hand with my wife. —Ryan Krogh, ���ϳԹ��� contributing writer

The post 18 Romantic Getaways That Are Far Better than Roses or Chocolate appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

This was the year that travel truly rebounded, with more than 975 million Americans globe-trotting to far-flung outposts. It’s no surprise that readers were looking for inspiration on where to go, as well as advice on where to travel safely. It was also a year that we all wanted to feel happy and hopeful about living and exploring in the U.S., too, in places that are uncrowded, affordable, and accessible to all.

Here’s a look back at ���ܳٲ������’s most popular travel stories of the year. May it excite you to take some amazing trips in the year to come.

1. The 10 Most Beautiful Hikes in the World

This story by our trail columnist Grayson Haver Currin was read by more than half a million people eager to check out his hiking bucket list. Currin provides expert advice and inspiration for a lifetime, not to mention the incredible images that scream “I wanna be there right now.” Readers swooned over Croatia’s Plitvice Lake National Park (“Blew my mind,” wrote one), where you stroll along boardwalks over azure pools (see photo above)—but not swim, as several Instagram commenters who had visited pointed out. We popped in a few interactive to help readers envision various routes and difficulty levels. “I want to do them all now!” wrote a fan. We’re with you.

2. The 15 Happiest Places to Live in the U.S.

Every year we look forward to the report and decided we needed a national version. So we did our own research on the topic. This was no easy endeavor—our team of editors and fact-checkers looked at topics like climate change, affordability, diversity and inclusion, and percentage of public land, and we tapped sources like Sharecare’s Community Well-Being Index, the Trust for Public Land, and the Human Rights Campaign for up-to-date data. After whittling our list down to 15 from 300 places, we assigned writers familiar with our final choices to dig deeper into the outdoor scene for specific reasons locals loved living there, as well as noting any areas that still needed improvement. The resulting article resonated far and wide with our readers, whose responses varied from “Shhh stop telling all the secrets” to “Great town, good beer.” We enjoyed the debate.

3. This Is the Most Beautiful Town in Colorado

���ϳԹ��� travel editor Alison Osius is a longtime resident of the Centennial State, home to some of the most awesome mountain towns in the country. So when she came back from attending the Mountainfilm festival this summer and said, “Telluride really is the most beautiful town in Colorado,” we asked her to write about why. Read this essay for her justification and why she betrayed her own hometown in the Rockies.

4. This Is the Most Affordable Town in the West

We’re very aware of the high cost of living in mountain towns out west and wanted to see if we could find the most affordable place to live the western dream for this story, researched and written by ���ϳԹ��� correspondent Graham Averill. Our choice kicked off a lot of debate on Instagram and made some readers pretty mad. “Everybody in Laramie [is] pissed right now,” one reader wrote. Someone else chimed in, “Now every developer and investor is going to want to destroy this place.” But a local or two seemed to be saying not to worry. “Guarantee you 95% of these people commenting have never lived in Laramie,” one opined. “If you’ve lived here you know why it’s so affordable and why this article isn’t a threat.”

5. Should I Travel to Mexico or Costa Rica Right Now? I’m Concerned About Safety.

The world is an unpredictable place these days, and right before countless Americans set off for spring break this past year, violence in these two countries was making headlines. Our travel-advice columnist, Jen Murphy, reported on safety considerations and government warnings, and she found a travel agency whose state-by-state map of Mexico clearly delineated State Department advisory levels to help readers better understand which places were considered most dangerous. The article was read by hundreds of thousands of people.

6. Tipping Is Out of Control. Here Are the New Rules.

Travel director Mary Turner noticed that tipping amounts were reaching more than 30 percent at registers across the U.S., and that she was being asked for tips in places she’d never been asked to tip at before. So we asked our travel-advice expert, Jen Murphy, to look into what was going on, and her story really hit a nerve with readers. In fact, they’re still commenting on the piece months after it was initially published. ��on who’s to blame for the higher expectations. Said one commenter: “A screen can suggest whatever it wants to suggest. I’m tipping 15-20%. 30 is absurd.”

7. The Day a Wild Stallion Tried to Kill My Horse on the Pony Express Trail

In 2019, ���ϳԹ��� writer Will Grant embarked on a 2,000-mile horseback ride along the entire Pony Express Trail, from Missouri to California. He went on to write a book about his adventure that was riveting and romantic, so we weren’t surprised when the the excerpt we published from it took off. Grant encountered more than a handful of tough things en route—among them rattlesnakes and blistering desert heat—but nothing quite compared to a very pissed off wild stallion.

8.��Stockton Rush, the Pilot of Missing Titanic Sub, Told ���ϳԹ��� Why He Kept Going Back

Like much of the world in June, we were transfixed and saddened when the submersible Titanic went missing thousands of feet beneath the ocean. We recalled that in an article on extreme travel, our writer Alexandra Gillespie had quoted Stockton Rush, Oceangate’s CEO. As part of our continuing coverage, we asked if she had other salient material from her interview with Rush, and indeed she did: she had talked to him twice, via Zoom, in March 2021 and September 2022, and had audio. Gillespie put together the transcripts of that interview for a story that helped illuminate the motivations of this now tragic figure.

9. The 18 Best State Parks in the U.S.

“While national parks get dubbed ‘America’s best idea’ and the full Ken Burns documentary treatment, the state-park system scattered throughout the U.S. is treated as an afterthought,” writes our national parks columnist Graham Averill in this story. With crowding a concern every summer, and travelers intent on experiencing stunning public lands, we wanted to give the 6,972 state-park units some love. The solution was asking Averill to pick some of the most spectacular, with unique adventures to match. He chose the sites best for wildlife-watching, solitude, dramatic landscapes, and more. If you’re trying to determine just where to head with your family and friends in 2024, his list is the place to start.

Tasha Zemke traveled both internationally—to Japan and Israel—and domestically—to Marin County, California, and Los Angeles—this year, each time��with family, which made the trips that much sweeter. In 2024, she plans to use airline miles to book a summer trip to Paris for a birthday celebration with her best friends.��

The post Our 9 Most Popular Travel Stories of 2023 appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

Ever come across an incredible hotel that stops you mid-scroll and makes you think, Wow, wouldn’t it be something to stay there?��We do, too—all the time. Welcome to Friday Fantasy, where we highlight amazing hotels, lodges, cabins, tents, campsites, and other places perched in perfect outdoor settings. Read on for the intel you need to book an upcoming adventure here. Or at least dream about it.

Why We Love Nick’s Cove

This boat shack at the end of a pier is what first charmed me about , a 12-cottage property set on the eastern shores of Tomales Bay some 50 miles north of San Francisco.

You can grab a drink from the waterfront restaurant, and a plate full of oysters plucked from the waters just down Highway 1, then amble west across the wooden planks to that solitary shack to chill. Sit on the deck, which on a clear day sends your gaze a mile over the sparkling waters to Point Reyes National Seashore, maybe with fog creeping over its low hills; or find a seat inside the shingled shack itself, the woodstove lit and throwing out heat when the fog has turned visibility to nil, a moody experience so enchanting you positively might hope for it.

Regardless of who you’re with, or how you find yourself at Nick’s, it’s romantic.

The quiet, low-key vibe of this place, and the prospect of eating fresh catch, have been two of its major draws since 1931, when Nick and Francis Kojich, immigrants from Yugoslavia, bought land here to settle down. The couple built a smokehouse for herring and then turned it into a restaurant, one that decades later is legendary in the Bay Area and beyond. The dozen cottages, each slightly different in design but all with what I’d call a kind of NorCal nautical theme, also exceed expectations; bay waters lap beneath the porches at five of them, and the remainder are scattered across the road amid towering cypress trees. Dogs are welcome on-site. The only disappointment I suffered was learning that the shack was built just 11 years ago—I’d imagined it to be decades old—but that’s easy to forget. You’re here for the atmosphere.

Marin County is full of getaway destinations, but Nick’s and the speck of its hometown, Marshall, feel humble and familial and fairly nonchalant about being the perfect base for hiking, road biking, kayaking, sailing, fishing, whale-watching, and fantastic farm-to-table (or boat-to-table) eating. Even with the amount of press Nick’s Cove has received since wrapping up property-wide renovations earlier this year, neither staff nor customers gave off any elitist airs when five friends and I visited one bluebird-sky Friday afternoon in August.

���ϳԹ��� Intel

Any sunny day in this area will see cyclists on the roads. The property’s new chef consultant, Chris Cosentino of Top Chef Masters fame, is also a sponsored cyclist, and when I asked for his preferred routes, he shared this starting at Nick’s Cove and this from Santa Rosa, which passes the property. (For his recommended foodie-centric route, check out the Eat and Drink section, below.)

Nick’s has started renting stand-up paddleboards and single kayaks, life vests included, to overnight guests ($25 and $35 per hour, respectively). Staff can also set up a four-hour guided fishing charter, which runs $1,400 for two people and includes a picnic lunch but not a fishing license. The captain can tell you what’s biting.

If you’re looking for a one-stop recreation spot, head 15 miles south to Point Reyes National Seashore. It has than 150 miles of trails, but I recommend in fall especially, because you’ll pass through the Tule Elk Reserve (August through October is rutting season, so keep an ear open for the bulls’ bugling). Blufftop lookout points offer expansive lays of the land. Whale-watching is a year-round pastime along this stretch of coast; migrating humpbacks, blues, and fins frequently appear in the summer and fall, and grays in the winter and spring.

Finally, sign up for one of the of Tomales Bay offered by Blue Waters Kayaking (from $145 per person), which puts in at the seashore’s Heart’s Desire Beach. During the three-hour tour, held each month during the new moon, your guide will give you the geologic and Native history of the area and lead you to places where you can ply your paddle into the inky waters to activate the dinoflagellates’ brilliance. Equally magical is drifting in the darkness and being enveloped by the quiet of the bay, your senses fully alert (and maybe thrilled with fear). I don’t know which experience I loved more during my night tour this summer.

Choice Cottages

According to Wade Nakamine, Nick’s general manager, the most booked cottage is the two-bedroom, waterfront Bandit’s Bungalow. “People who book it are usually couples who want the space, although it can sleep up to six,” he says.

His personal favorite cottage, however, is Jerry’s, which can sleep up to four. Its elevated wrap-around porch is ideal for people-watching, affords stunning views of the bay, and has served as a mini outdoor kennel when he and his wife bring their Yorkie mix: “We bring a baby gate, so he’s able to roam around.” This cottage is not situated directly on the water, but Nakamine likes to lie in bed and hear the sound of the water hitting the seawalls.

Eat and Drink

Chef Cosentino, who hails from coastal New England but established a career in the Bay Area and was hired over the summer to helm the restaurant, says it best: “This is a fish house smack-dab in the middle of farm country, and all of our dishes feature seasonal and local produce and seafood.” In the fall he recommends ordering the restaurant’s Rhode Island clam chowder, barbecued oysters, and an albacore sandwich, to pair with Lyre’s Classico, a nonalcoholic sparkling wine. Cosentino also loves to add Dungeness crab to the menu when it’s in season (this year beginning November 4).

For Nakamine, nothing on the menu beats the smoked black-cod dip with saltines and pickled celery. He also recommends two specific house cocktails: “In fall,” he says, “I’m gonna do a Marshall Manhattan, which has a house-made oatmeal-stout syrup paired with Redwood Empire whiskey, cloves, and cinnamon.” For summery days, he likes a Tomales tonic. “We make our own tonic syrup with cinchona bark—it’s earthier and has an orange tint to it—and use local gin and a splash of soda water.”

Off-site there’s almost too much to contemplate. Says Cosentino, “West Marin is a magical place, and when I started riding my bike out by Nick’s Cove, it gave me a bigger picture of everything there—all the dairy farms and cheese companies, the oyster spots and bakeries.” His recommendations for a local foodie tour, which can be done by bike or by car, is as follows:

Start your morning with a pastry from Route One Bakery and Kitchen in the town of Tomales, just four miles east of Marshall. You can also at the nearby Tomales Farmstead Creamery. From Tomales, head south 17 miles to Point Reyes Station. “You have some of the most amazing local producers close by each other and can stop at farmstands for fruit, flowers, and honey,“ he says. In town, Cosentino likes to stop for buffalo-milk ice cream at Toby’s Feed Barn, sauerkraut and chili paste from Wild West Ferments, coffee and a cookie at Bovine Bakery, and “amazing sourdough” at Brickmaiden Breads.

To that I’d add a stop en route at the Hog Island Oyster Co., where you can sit outdoors and eat shucked oysters with a view of the bay (walk-ins available only Thursdays; otherwise make a reservation), or pick up picnic provisions to take on your way.

When to Go

Marshall tends to stay cool and temperate year-round, with highs ranging from the mid-fifties to low sixties in the winter and spring and low seventies in the summer and fall. Marshall sees an average of 260 days of sun annually, but it’s smart to carry�� a beanie, scarf, and puffy jacket in case the fog sets in.

I have always wanted to visit Nick’s for Thanksgiving—its restaurant is open that day—and fill the long holiday weekend with nice walks in the area (chances are you’ll see a wild turkey) and some deep reading in front of my cottage’s woodstove.

How to Get There

You’ll want to have a car to explore West Marin, and a rental is the best option if you’re flying into San Francisco or Oakland International Airports (both 65 miles south) or the smaller Sonoma County Airport in Santa Rosa (35 miles north). Regardless of which way you’re coming, the ranchlands, grand eucalyptus trees, and maritime seascape as you draw closer make for a lovely transition from the city and put you in the mood to relax.

Don’t Miss

The in Point Reyes National Seashore is a beautiful place for a leisurely stroll, for any ability and the differently abled. It ends at a historic Art Deco–style structure that formerly served as a ; touring it, and seeing the equipment used to send ships messages via Morse code, felt like a real step back in time.

Details

To Book:

Price: From $430 per night

Address: 23240 Highway One
Marshall, CA 94940

Tasha Zemke is ���ϳԹ��� magazine’s associate managing editor and a member of its online travel team. She lived on an Italian island for 13 years, and since she moved to Santa Fe, she always takes vacations to the waterfront. In October she’s off to another island: Japan.

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