In traveling, I’ve always chosen to go it alone rather than not go at all. Over the years, friends have called me fearless. Don’t you get scared? they ask. Very rarely. Lonely? Honestly, never, even before the days of social media. And isn’t it more expensive to travel by yourself than with others? Traditionally, yes. Solo travelers often got slapped with single-supplement, or premium, hotel and tour fees, but since the pandemic, companies have started courting solo travelers. Priceline even held its first-ever .

, safety, loneliness, and expense are the three biggest reasons people hate to travel solo. But I’ve been adventuring on my own for more than two decades, and I find it freeing. I can travel at my own pace and on my own budget. I can easily score a table for one—even at top restaurants that often require bookings weeks in advance. And I connect more with locals.

More people are catching on to the appeal of solo travel, however, especially Gen Zers and Millennials. Google searches for solo travel have increased 223 percent over the past decade, and according to a , 50 percent of Americans planned to travel alone in 2024. And while women have led the indie trip trend in recent years, men are joining the ranks. A from the travel booking site Omio found that 30 percent of men, compared to 23 percent of women, have solo journeys planned for 2025.

If you’ve hesitated to give solo travel a go, let me alleviate your concerns and suggest some of my favorite places for awesome adventuring on your own.

Always Consider Safety First

Certain destinations lend themselves to solo travel more than others. Certainly, safety is top of mind.

I scan the U.S. State Department’s and avoid countries of conflict. I also browse the (GPI), an annual ranking of nations based on factors like the absence of violence or fear of violence, a nation’s level of harmony or discord, and its degree of militarization. Coming into 2025, Iceland, Ireland, and Austria are the safest three countries in the world, according to the overall GPI score.

, which also researches and ranks the safest places to visit each year, is another great resource. Rankings are based on an average of “all measures from [BHTP’s] State of Travel Insurance research,” and factor in other indices including the Global Peace Index and information from sources like , a destination database that scores living conditions. Berkshire Hathaway puts Iceland, Australia, and Canada as top three for safety, with Ireland close behind.

In addition to its list, Berkshire Hathaway provides write-ups that touch on smart considerations to take into account in each of the high-ranking nations, from dangerous wildlife like box jellyfish in Australia to driving on the left-hand side of the road in Ireland to expensive emergency-evacuation costs in remote destinations of northern Norway.

My 6 Favorite Solo-Travel Destinations

Some of my picks are at the top of the Berkshire Hathaway and Global Peace Index lists, but I cast a wider lens to explore off-the-beaten-path destinations. In particular, such places have satisfied my craving for big doses of nature and adventure.

Portugal

The GPI ranked Portugal the seventh-safest country in the world in 2024. It’s also a bargain compared to most Western European countries (a draft of craft beer cost me $3 in Lisbon compared to $8 in Paris), and the effortlessly connects the northern and southern regions.

I’ve visited this country solo four times and have always found the locals extremely hospitable. On my first trip, I checked out the beach town of Sagres in the southern region of Algarve and met two couples from Lisbon who offered to drive me back to the city. One of the women took off work the next day to be my tour guide, and that evening she and her husband threw a dinner party for me at their home.

I love making solo surf trips up and down Portugal’s coast. Hotels like (from $200) in Santa Cruz and (from $73), just north in the town of Peniche, have a clubhouse vibe and offer activities and events—like rooftop music sessions—that make it easy to meet new friends. Both places can arrange board rentals, lessons, and English-speaking guides.

If you, too, fall hard for the country, Portugal’s recently introduced makes it easy to pursue residency while working remotely.

Costa Rica

Pura vida vibes have always made me feel welcome in Costa Rica. The State Department’s Level 2 advisory recommends that trip-goers use increased caution here, due to petty crime risks and natural hazards like earthquakes (which are common-ish here, with events of magnitude 7 about every decade). For 2025, Berkshire Hathaway Costa Rica the sixth-safest place in the world for female, BIPOC, and LGBTQIA+ travelers.

Surf towns such as Nosara and Santa Teresa along the Pacific Coast attract a lot of Americans and have small expat communities. , a hotel brand catering to digital nomads with coworking spaces as well as rooms, has eight outposts in Costa Rica, including in Nosara, Santa Teresa, and Monteverde (shared dorms from $24). These properties host music events and arrange local experiences for guests.

On the Caribbean Coast, I’m a big fan of the boutique hotel (from $365), which is part of the sustainability-focused Cayuga Collection. The hotel works with local guides and outfitters to arrange snorkeling excursions and hiking day trips in Cahuita National Park, including for solo guests. The place also offers free bike use, which I love for exploring the nearby town on my own.

CanadaÌę

Canadians have a reputation for being incredibly friendly, and that as well as proximity to the U.S. and our shared language are bonuses. highlighted the country’s low crime rate and noted that wildlife like bears and moose posed some of the biggest dangers to visitors.

Vancouver and Montreal, great jumping-off points for the wilderness, ranked two and three, respectively, on a that see the most solo-travel searches on the travel site Kayak and the most solo-dining reservations on OpenTable.

Canada has 37 national parks and 11 national park reserves, as well as two beautiful coasts. I’ve made friends while soaking in the swimming-pool-sized hot tub at (from $250) in Alberta’s Banff National Park. I’ve also plotted solo snowboard trips to , British Columbia, to coincide with the Natural Selection Tour freestyle competition, knowing I’d meet like-minded travelers.

If you’re wary of wandering the wilderness alone, sign up for a guided trek with a local outfitter. I like the .

Another low-stress option is crisscrossing the country via rail. The Rocky Mountaineer’s from Vancouver to Banff takes just two days and is staffed with storytellers who can shed light on indigenous sites and wildlife. It offers single-berth accommodations from $1,752.

Australia

Australia has long been a magnet for backpackers. I spent nearly a year in my twenties backpacking mostly solo around the country’s east coast, and the biggest dangers were crocodiles, snakes, and jellyfish. Despite its resident poisonous critters, Berkshire Hathaway Travel Protection scored AustraliaÌę the second-safest place in the world to travel for 2025.

Affordable and clean hostels, like (from $140) in Queensland’s Daintree Rainforest, abound and are filled with other solo travelers. is a beach-club-vibe hostel brand with Queensland locations in Noosa, Cairns, and Airlie Beach (from $32 for a spot in a mixed dorm).

Australia is a fantastic destination for hiking. is a collection of 13 treks that you can do yourself or with a guide. I spent four days traversing the wildlife-filled in Tasmania, opting for a guide via the local outfitter the because I wanted to learn more about the flora, fauna, and culture on the island (from $1,900, all-inclusive). The first two nights we stayed in secluded, simple bush camps near the beach ($7), and the final night we were pampered in the recently renovated historic-home-turned-hotel, Bernacchi House.

If you’re sticking to the mainland, the in the state of Victoria is a very doable 27 miles over four days along the Great Ocean Road, with campsites en route. The walk is suitable for hikers of any experience and takes in the shipwreck-dotted coastline, wild beaches, and Great Otway and Port Campbell National Parks.

Austria

Austria is a fantastic option for solo alpine adventures. The country is ranked third on the Global Peace Index and fifth worldwide in terms of safety by the . Most locals speak English, and a great public transportation network makes it easy to travel car-free. If you’re deciding between alpine destinations, consider that the cost of living in Switzerland is higher than in Austria, and that affects tourism; in general, expect lodging and meals in Austria to cost half of what you’d pay in Switzerland.

The runs a network of more than 170 huts, where it’s easy to engage with other hikers. Most mountain resorts, such as or or have guided hiking, biking, and paddling tours that allow you to mingle with others. And many villages offer special . I met some friends on a solo trip to the , held each September.

Bhutan

Solo travel, for me, has been the perfect way to do some soul searching when I’m making big decisions or going through a transition. And one of the most soulful places I’ve ever visited is the Kingdom of Bhutan. It is a place of beauty and spirituality, and travelers here are required to have a guide, which is an exceptional way to become familiar with the culture.

Six years ago, I went on assignment on a solo ten-day guided trip of this Southeast Asia nation and learned so much, including the proper way to throw a dart (this is a traditional sport in Bhutan) and about dating habits here (yes, there’s Tinder in Bhutan). I still keep in touch with my guide, who was a woman, on WhatsApp.

Bhutan is ranked 21 on the Global Peace Index, and it’s a mecca for hiking and mountain biking—the king is an avid mountain biker, and my guide and I spotted him one day on the trail. While getting there from the U.S. isn’t cheap, nor are costs within the country, visits are slightly more affordable since the kingdom halved its daily tourist fee from $200 to $100 last year.

Phil Bowen of should be your go-to logistician to find a guide, driver, and accommodations, which can range from homestays to splurge-worthy hotels. (from $550, half-board, meaning room, breakfast, and one other meal) is one of the most memorable places I’ve stayed in throughout my global travels.

5 Tips for Solo Travelers, From a Pro

Here are some tips and tricks for making the most of a solo trip.Ìę

Share Your Plans

I always email my mom my rough itinerary. It includes the contact information for any hotels I’ve already booked or the names of campsites where I plan to stay. I also regularly check in with her or a good friend via What’s App or email to let them know I’ve reached a destination safely and when I’m moving on to my next stop.

Eat at the Restaurant’s Bar

I absolutely love dining alone at the bar. It’s usually easy to score a single seat, and before long I’m chatting with some fascinating local characters. Bartenders are often fantastic sources of local intel and can direct you to good restaurants and the best hiking and mountain-biking trails. Finally, happy-hour specials are a great way to save a few bucks.

Watch and Post on Message Boards

If you’re craving companionship, you might post on social-media channels like Facebook and Instagram—you never know who in your circles, or your friends’ circles, is headed to the same place as you—or use the Friends setting on apps like Bumble. Many hotels and hostels, and often the local grocery store, still have bulletin boards with postings for local activities, like free yoga sessions or group hikes.

Pack Meds

Being alone isn’t so great when you fall ill in a far-flung place. In many countries it’s manageable: you can walk into a pharmacy, explain your symptoms, and get what you need. But I recently suffered through a debilitating urinary-tract infection in Morocco, and now I never travel without the broad-spectrum antibiotic I needed. I convinced my doctor to prescribe one in case I get that sick on the road again.

Don’t Second-Guess Yourself

Trust your gut. If something feels unsafe, it probably is. The very few times I’ve gotten food poisoning have been when actions went against my instinct. Don’t be afraid to be impolite. Once, in Varanasi, India, an elderly woman offered me a glass of sketchy looking lassi. I felt rude saying no, and all it took was one sip to give me Delhi Belly. I knew better.

You should also follow your intuition. When I meet strangers and feel genuine good vibes, I will accept an invitation to share a ride or join for a meal in someone’s home. These chance encounters have rewarded me with some wonderful friends and experiences over the years.

Jen Murphy is °żłÜłÙČőŸ±»ć±đ’s online travel-advice columnist. She has had some of her most memorable adventures while traveling solo, from dancing with a local tribe in the Omo Valley of Ethiopia to joining members of the Indian army on a run in Delhi. Her journal and a good book have always served as great companions. She has also recently written an ultimate guide to winter fun in a choice selection of mountain towns in Colorado, a guide for anyone new to adventure travel in Costa Rica, and the funniest things travelers ask their adventure guides. There are doozies.

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Kitzsteinhorn, a 10,000-foot Austrian peak that sits in the Alps just south of Salzburg, is not considered a draw for serious mountaineers. But to a group of Ukrainian refugees who climbed it last August, as part of a summer camp hosted by the U.S.-based , Kitzsteinhorn symbolized hope.

Filmmaker and photographer Max Lowe documented his second trip to Healing Base Camp, a weeklong program for families whose lives were upended by the violence of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. A mix of talk therapy, art classes, and guided mountaineering expeditions, the camp is about building resilience. “All of these people lost someone far too soon,” says Lowe, who is based in Bozeman, Montana. “There’s beauty in the fact that they’re showing up here and learning how to move forward.”

Lowe first visited in the summer of 2022 for his documentary , released on Netflix in 2023. The film follows ten-year-old Milana and her grandmother Olga as they immerse themselves in camp activities. Milana, initially scared to climb, gains confidence throughout the week and eventually summits Kitzsteinhorn. Both she and Olga attended again when Lowe did. “The difference in Milana from the year before was remarkable,” he says. “She pushed through everything and just really seemed like a changed girl.”

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Martin Feistl died on Saturday, May 18, following a 130-foot fall in his native Austria, while free soloing on the steep 1,000-foot South Face of the (8,097ft). The 27-year-old ice and mixed expert was climbing the SpitzenstĂ€tterÌęup the center of the face.

While it’s unclear exactly what occurred, a —based on an account from a mountain rescuer on the face—said that Feistl “lost his footing in a steep and slightly overhanging section of the route at around 12:25 p.m. 
 After a free fall of around [130 feet] he hit a rock ledge at the foot of the wall.” From here he slid down a steep snowfield, and eventually came to a rest in scree several hundred feet below. Although a rescuer reached Feistl quickly, his injuries were fatal. A helicopter recovered the body shortly after.

Feistl was a climber from a young age, and began to garner attention when he started climbing with the German Mountaineering Club’s Youth Expedition Team from 2016 to 2018. It was during this time that he met longtime friend and climbing partner Simon Gietl, who served as Feistl’s trainer on the team. “Martin’s talent and awareness of nature immediately caught my eye,” Gietl said. “He was an alpinist through and through, who loved (and lived) to feel his limits.”

Feistl capped off his time on the Youth Expedition Team with an impressive ascent of the West Ridge of Shivling (21,467 feet) in the Indian Garhwal, and returned to Europe to devour climbs throughout the Alps.

One of his most prominent ascents came two years later, in 2020, when he and David Bruder made the first repeat and first free ascent of the 2,600-foot Sagzahn Verschneidung in Austria. The line was establishedby the late and Peter MĂŒhlberger, and with better conditions Bruder and Feistl freed it. “Fortunately we encountered neither the brittle rock nor any [of the] wild techno climbing that Lama had had to deal with,” at the time.

Bruder and Feistl went on to tackle a number of hard objectives together that season, most notably “Stalingrad,” a 3,300-foot routeÌęjust a month later. The effort was shortlisted for a Piolet d’Or. “I shared with Martin some of the most intense and impressive climbs of my late career,” Bruder told Climbing. “We were the young gun and the old-school man. I appreciated his commitment and technical and mental skills
 I guess he liked my experience and flexibility.”

Bruder noted that the pair hadn’t climbed much together in recent years, though they remained in close contact. “Since moving to Innsbruck, Martin made another step forward in terms of frequency, difficulty, ethics, and professionalism, [into a place] I could and would not follow,” Bruder said. “That’s the course of life, I guess. Still, we had regular contact, often about his doubts and conflicts with the professional alpinist game.”

Feistl was undoubtedly a rising star in the world of European alpinism, but Bruder and other close friends and climbing partners indicated that he had a love-hate relationship with the fame and visibility that came with professional climbing, as well as the media obligations of sponsorship. Bruder said Feistl never wanted to be “climbing around the world, doing what people want to see, selling good pics, or smiles. He always wanted to be respected for his climbing performance, not his show performance.”

As an alpinist, Feistl led by example. Last summer, he and Felix Bub traveled by train and then sailboat to establish over in Greenland’s Mythic Cirque. Then, in January 2024, he free soloed a new 1,300-foot mixed climb on the West Face of the Hammerspitze, Austria, called “Daily Dose of Luck.” Just a few days later, he and Gietl made the first ascent of a massive routeÌęin the Italian Dolomites.

Gietl looked back fondly on the duo’s first ascent of “Affogato” last winter and gave a bit of insight into his late partner’s remarkable daring. “Martin climbed onto a crazy ice roof with [only] a 10 centimeter screw [13 feet] below!” Gietl recalled. “Hanging freely, he swung himself onto the edge of the roof and was able to pull himself up using sheer strength. It was crazy and fascinating at the same time! It was so exciting to watch that I didn’t dare take a photo. 
 A fall would definitely have been very, very painful.”

Feistl offered insight into his mindsight in a about Daily Dose of Luck. “I could have taken gear with me to self-belay,” he said, “but somehow the idea of rope-solo climbing in winter doesn’t appeal to me at all. Everything takes too long and, anyways, on ice you just don’t fall. That’s how I [learned] to climb ice.”

He continued: “For reasons that are not always entirely clear to me, this is how I’ve always gone about my climbs. In general, on the vast majority of routes that I solo, I try to do without everything that can provide more security than my belief in my own abilities. Physically, but especially mentally. It’s probably one of those ego things.”

Feistl’s climbing partner, British alpinist Fay Manners, met him two years ago at a sponsorship meetup in Wales, and was immediately impressed by his purist attitude and comfort with exposure. “Most Europeans that visit the UK for the mountains are intimidated by how bold the climbing is,” she said. “Martin was fearless, strong, and talented. He was in his element climbing on sea cliffs with runout protection.”

Manners and her climbing partner, Michelle Dvorak, shared base camp with Feistl and Bub during theirÌę trip to the Mythic Cirque last year, and her favorite memories of Feistl were from this expedition. “In the mornings we shared breakfast together in the sun overlooking the water, just talking about climbing and life,” she said. “These memories [are] even more prominent to me than the new climbing route we opened.”

Manners looked back fondly on Feistl’s wry wit, as well as his unwavering ideals. “He had quite strong views, especially when it came to ethics in climbing,” she said. “He never relinquished his beliefs and values 
 I was sure that he would go on to be one of the bravest and most impressive mixed climbers in the world.”

“His love for the sport was real,” Manners said. “He didn’t care about sponsorship or attention.”

Beyond his high level of risk tolerance, a key feature of Feistl’s climbing was his dedication to completing objectives in as environmentally friendly a manner as possible. Sources suggest this is largely why, after Shivling, he largely confined his climbing to his backyard in the Alps. “Whether by bike, train, or sailing ship, the main thing [for Feistl] was to climb without a car or plane,” Gietl said.

Feistl was a vocal proponent of the movement, which “extends the notion of redpoint by including the approach by fair means (public transport, bike, boat, foot).” When he and Felix Bub last year, they left Innsbruck by train and then sailed, resulting in carbon emissions of roughly 280 kilograms CO2 per person, which “roughly corresponds to a single person’s car journey from Munich to Chamonix and back.”

Gietl shared a brief message intended for his late friend:

“Martin, we had a short but very intense time together, and I was looking forward to many more adventures together,” he wrote. “You always impressed me with your climbing skills, your purist style, and your unique sense of humor. You truly succeeded in your goal of living your life with a small ecological footprint, but Martin, your footprint in my heart is huge.”

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Every January, tens of thousands of ski-racing fans flock to KitzbĂŒhel, Austria, for the Hahnenkamm Races, an event photographer and lifelong skier Kari Medig calls “the Wimbledon of ski racing.” But instead of swatting a fuzzy ball back and forth, athletes hurtle down icy slopes and through blind corners at upward of 75 miles per hour. And rather than don swanky “smart casual” attire, spectators come decked out in vintage ski gear. The downhill race is the start of a three-day spectacle that includes slalom, super-G, and sprint competitions. Integral to the scene are the crowds themselves: the events draw up to 50,000 attendees. Austria’s biggest newspaper sends a couple dozen reporters to document the frenzy, and military cadets work long days shoveling snow and prepping the courses. Growing up in British Columbia, Medig watched VHS recordings of the Hahnenkamm after days on the slopes with his local ski team. He went on to document a wide range of subjects as a photographer, but skiing has always been his favorite. So when he was given media credentials to photograph the 2023 Hahnenkamm—placing him closer to the action than spectators get—he knew he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. It was a technical challenge shooting the skiers as they blurred past at impossible speeds, and a logistical one too, since he wanted to capture the vibe among bystanders. “The fans and their connection to the race was so special,” he said. “It felt like a place where people love the sport as much as I do.”

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At the ski resorts of the future, skiers will arrive by free trains and buses, no cars necessary. They’ll ride lifts powered by 100 percent renewable energy and carve down runs groomed with machines that run on cutting-edge clean fuel. Ultraefficient snowmaking that saves power and water will supplement winter’s bounty. When skiers finally unbuckle their boots, they’ll browse regional crafts and savor aprĂšs food and drink sourced from local producers. It’s both inspiring and just plain fun—a better way to ski—and you don’t have to wait for the future. It’s already possible in Austria.Ìę

Long known for breathtaking alpine scenery, excellent snow, and a special kind of hospitality, Austria’s ski resorts are making a new name for themselves in groundbreaking sustainability. As concern over the climate crisis deepens and organizations strive to slash their carbon footprints, Austrian resorts are taking the lead in eco-friendly practices. Not only because their existence depends on reliable snow, but also because they share a deep commitment to their communities, the conservation of their stunning alpine ecosystems, and a healthier planet for all.

Austria’s top resorts are approaching sustainability measures from all angles. Many run their buildings and lifts on renewable energy. They encourage guests to take car-free vacations with accessible and widespread public transportation options. Their snowmaking machines use new technology and data analysis to save energy and water. And resorts prioritize a sense of place, whether that’s through protecting habitat for local flora and fauna or featuring regional specialties in their restaurants and shops.Ìę

Even better? From hassle-free travel to local delicacies, a sustainable ski experience is also a more enjoyable one. Here’s how several pioneering ski mountains are integrating sustainability into everyday operations.

Renewable Energy

Some top Austrian resorts have already moved from powering their infrastructure with fossil fuels to 100 percent renewable energy. Ski Arlberg for example is one of the largest ski resorts in the world and their ski powerhouses St. Anton and Lech ZĂŒrs are run on its own independent hydroelectric plant. St. Anton also has its own biomass heating plant. Lech ZĂŒrs heats its cable cars, ski lifts, and almost all the surrounding homes and businesses with four biomass heating plants that use regionally sourced wood chips. And all its operations, from cable cars to lifts to restaurants, run on 100 percent pumped-storage hydropower.

KitzbĂŒhelÌęalso taps green energy for its cable cars and lifts, using a mix of hydropower and solar power.ÌęSnow Space Salzburg—a collection of the adjoining ski resorts ofÌęFlachau,ÌęWagrain, andÌęSt. Johann-Alpendorf—has also moved to 100 percent renewable energy for its cable cars and snowmaking machines, part of its ambitious plan to reach carbon neutrality by the 2025–2026 season. AtÌęZell am See-Kaprun, lifts run on green energy, and the resort captures excess heat generated by several cable car motors and uses it to heat buildings. Clean energy also powers the Nordic playground ofÌęRegionÌęSeefeld, a frequent host of Olympic and World Cup skiing events. Solar panels and a biomass heating system supply many of its businesses and homes. Plus, street and building lighting systems often use automatically adapting LED bulbs to boost efficiency.

Greener Transportation

Much of a ski resort’s carbon footprint comes from the transportation its guests use to travel to and from the slopes. By making it easy for people to leave their cars at home and use cleaner public transit instead, Austria’s resorts are slashing emissions.ÌęKitzbĂŒhelÌęboasts the largest free ski transit network in the Alps, with buses (many of them electric) connecting all the valley stations in the area. (There are also electric-vehicle charging stations in its parking lots.) Similarly,ÌęZell am See-KaprunÌępromotes car-free vacations—and from spring through fall even offers free train and bus travel throughout the region via its Mobility Card program. Travelers can also use a single guest card to take advantage ofÌęRegion Seefeld’s buses and trains. The Blue Fleet atÌęLech ZĂŒrsÌęincludes free ski buses, and additionally they offer e-bikes for rent, and an e-garage for guests to charge EVs.ÌęSt. AntonÌęis another easy car-free destination, thanks to its connection to the international rail system and regular buses.

Better Snowmaking and Grooming

Many resorts must augment natural snowfall with manmade flakes—historically an energy- and water-intensive operation—butÌęKitzbĂŒhelÌęemploys innovative technology to maximize snowmaking efficiency. The resort has analyzed its runs, considering factors like elevation and slope exposure, to determine exactly how much snow each area needs. Then, it measures snow depth using GPS data to make sure its snowmaking machines produce only as much snow as necessary, saving energy and water. And at Kitzsteinhorn atÌęZell am See-Kaprun, a small pumped hydroelectric plant can make snow in winter; when the weather warms up, that snow’s meltwater is transformed into hydropower for the area. Snow grooming also requires significant energy, so clean tech makes a big impact. Starting this season, the glacier lifts in Zell am See-Kaprun will operate its snow groomers entirely with a renewable HVO100 fuel, a fossil-free diesel substitute made from natural waste products such as used cooking oils and, according to the manufacturer, releases 90 per cent less carbon dioxide. And Snow Space SalzburgÌędebuted a one-of-a-kind hydrogen-powered groomer in January 2023, paving the way for mass production by 2025.

Regional Focus

Across Austria, restaurants and hotels are becoming increasingly focused on offering regional cuisine and locally sourced ingredients. A global leader in organic farming, Austria is home to more than 24,000 certified organic farms—which make up 22 percent of the total farms in the country.

You’ll also find plenty of outstanding local ski, equipment, and fashion brands while browsing stores in the the pedestrian-friendly ski towns. Some of the most iconic brands—like Hannes Strolz ski boots in Lech, or Frauenschuh fashion in KitzbĂŒhel—come with a multi-generational legacy and history. There are also several noteworthy start-ups, such as Innsbruck-based SPURart, which makes completely customized, handmade skis and snowboards. SPUart even offers visitors the opportunity to design and create their own gear during weekend-long workshops. Overall, this regional focus on production and supply chain reduces the carbon impact of shipping goods across long distances while also protecting Austria’s cultural heritage and creating a strong sense of place for travelers and locals alike.

Community Legacy

The origin and evolution of Austria’s ski industry makes it special. Over the last century, its resorts have grown organically out of small communities centered around farming, trade, and mining. Today, many of the resorts’ Ìętop hotels, restaurants, shops, and businesses remain under the loving care of the families that established them. This legacy stands in contrast to the trend in the United States and elsewhere, where corporate giants manage resorts. Instead, Austria’s ski destinations are intertwined with the community’s lifeblood, and this deeply rooted connection has spurred a commitment to tackling today’s challenges head-on.

Greener, great food and culture, and easy travel: Austria is showing the way to a better future for all skiers. your Austrian ski adventure.

The (ANTO) is Austria’s national tourism organization. Since 1955, the main objective has been the promotion of Austria as a vacation destination. To learn more about ANTO or what to explore in Austria, visit .

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Those familiar with American distance-running lore have probably heard the story. When future marathon great Meb Keflezighi was in middle school, his PE teacher made the class run a mile and promised an A to anyone who could do it in under six minutes and 15 seconds. Keflezighi ran 5:20—auguring big things to come.

In the revisionist history of my own early youth, which I spent in Germany, there was a moment when I also showed a glimmer of Keflezighian potential. As a fifth-grader, I won a cross-country race that was held in the woods behind my school. It was a devastating upset for several of my classmates, who, thanks to the early onset of puberty, were already lethal forces on the dodgeball court. They were incredulous that a scrawny guy like me could be better than them at something. So was I. At the time, genetics was still too abstract a concept, but I had another way to rationalize my unexpected success, one that I could also blame on my parents: despite my tender age, I was already a veteran of the volksmarsch.

The word—which waltzes off the tongue with characteristic German euphony—translates to “people’s march” and refers to that began popping up in Central Europe during the 1960s. A volksmarch is essentially a more formalized version of a hike, in which participants check in at the start and proceed along a prescribed route—usually ten kilometers, or 6.2 miles. Most events are put on by an organization known as the (IVV). There is no official start time, but there are checkpoints along the trail where walkers can get a cup of tea and receive a stamp to prove they aren’t cutting the course. Not that there would be any incentive to do so—these events are emphatically noncompetitive. They are an excuse to wander for a few hours and then have a beer at the end. Sometimes there’s a band. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.

My mother and father certainly felt so. We lived in central Germany, in a hilly, densely forested section in the state of Hesse, whose sylvan enchantments were largely lost on me at the time. (Fortunately, the same can’t be said of the Brothers Grimm, who were born nearby 200 years earlier.) During the warmer months, there were regional volksmarches pretty much every weekend. I did my first one in 1987, the year I turned five.

I still have the small statuette of a grape harvester that I received for my efforts that day. Typically, you paid a small fee to take part in a volksmarch, and, for a few deutschmarks more, you could also prepurchase a prize to be received on completion. My nostalgia is probably doing a lot of work here, but to me, these small mementos had an idiosyncratic charm that puts the average marathon finisher’s medal to shame. It was, essentially, souvenir store kitsch. A porcelain plate with a gold-painted rim. A beer mug in the shape of a hiking boot. A garishly oversized pin with an obscure coat of arms. For a few years, these were my most sacred possessions.

I wish I could say that I was an enthusiastic walker from day one—a mini Thoreau—but my parents usually had to make an appeal to my materialism. Walking ten kilometers can be tough, or, at the very least, kind of tedious when you’re barely taller than a coffee table. The prizes were a big motivator. Napoleon allegedly once said that a soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon. That was my mentality when I first started volksmarching: the struggle was worth it, so long as it was rewarded with a novelty shot glass.

Eventually, however, I began to look forward to these walks as a weekend ritual. Before I knew it, I had more than 500 kilometers’ worth of volksmarches in my tiny legs, as documented by the small, stamp-filled booklet that functioned as a kind of hiker’s passport. I don’t know if they still do this, but at the time, the IVV awarded you a certificate and pin to commemorate certain benchmarks: 100K, 500K, 1000K, and so on. I was envious of the old-timers, ancient men in Tyrolean hats, which casually flaunted their accomplishments. These guys were the alphas of an extremely un-alpha scene. I wanted to be like them. Anything for a ribbon.

As for the actual experience of hiking hundreds of kilometers through the German countryside as a child, all that remains are sensory echoes. Beech trees in the afternoon. The peculiar sweetness of the tea they would serve at checkpoints. I spent a lot of time climbing on trailside piles of felled timber (not recommended), bewitched by a vague notion that what I was doing was kind of dangerous. I remember the unnerving slickness of the bark after it had rained.

It’s been more than a quarter-century since my last volksmarch; in the summer of 1994, the year I turned 12, my family moved to Vienna, Austria, and that was pretty much that. The Brothers Grimm landscape was supplanted by a city of 1.5 million people. In hindsight, the timing seems fortuitous. I was entering adolescence and less interested than ever in countryside constitutionals with my parents. Vienna had one of the world’s best public transportation systems. The night became dangerously accessible. Bring it on.

But it cuts the other way, too. Those volksmarching years in Hesse are now synonymous with a romanticized version of my vanished childhood. Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes, usually in a state of mild inebriation, I’ll go on Google Maps and stare at aerial shots of my former home in the hope of triggering a Proustian reverie. This hasn’t really worked. Instead, I might have to force my two-year-old son to come on a volksmarch with me in a few years. He’ll thank me for it later.

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Most skiers click out of their bindings and kick back for a cold one when the lifts stop swinging for the day. But in Full Moon, from filmmaker , skiers and celebrate the endless light and bottomless snow with a nighttime ski tour in Austria’s Montafon valley.

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Scouting for the best location to fly-fish is just as important as choosing the right fly or perfecting the art of presentation. After all, the stunning backdrop to that trophy-fishÌęphoto will set the mood of your home. The character of the place,Ìęalong with any culinary delights or natural phenomena,Ìęwill offer allÌęthe sensory details you’ll need to tell the most memorable tale. There’s still plenty of action to be had in the fall, when the crowds fade, making it a great time to hit streams too.

Here areÌęour picks for some far-flung catch-and-release spots worth the trip.

Nefji Waterfall, Iceland

Fish: Arctic char and brown trout

Imagine trying to stand your ground at the base of one of the most dramatic waterfalls in the highlands of Iceland, the largest undisturbed natural area in Europe. To counterbalance an overhead cast, you have toÌębrace yourself against the current of the River KaldakvĂ­sl, which churnsÌębeneath your feet like a racehorse. If you slip on the rocks, you could get swept downstream—where slower waters also afford excellent fishing—but that’s part of the excitement. Things are pretty much unpredictable here, except thatÌęyou won’t see anyone else on the river. leases fishing rights from the landowners,Ìęensuring that no oneÌęhang outÌęhere except its customers (and only four people per day are allowed). Day passes start at $615, which includes a local guide who knows all the secret spots, will bringÌęthe gear you’ll need, and will pick you up from your hotelÌęin ReykjavĂ­k.

Rio Palena, Patagonia

Fish: Rainbow trout, sea-run brown trout, brook trout, king salmon, Pacific salmon

November and December—springtime in the Southern Hemisphere—are great monthsÌęto hurl streamers at trophy browns in the 149-mile Rio Palena, which runs throughÌęChile and Argentina,ÌęwhileÌęJanuary and February—summertime—are perfect for skating and twitching large dries. March brings lower levels of water and more concentrated fish, allowing you to mix dries, streamers, and nymphs.

Treat yourself to an all-inclusive angling trip at (from $1,050), a seven-suite property that opens in OctoberÌęon the banks of the river.ÌęWade or float-fish in the freestone watersÌęright outÌęfront, or sign up for a heli expedition to a remote stretch of river, as directed by your local guides, whoÌęknow where to fish the best hatches and how to maximize your time on itsÌębanks.

Getting there isn’t easy: visitors typically fly into Santiago and thenÌęcatch a two-hour regional flight to Puerto Montt before transferring to another 35-minute flight to ChaitĂ©nÌęand driving three hours to the lodge. But most would argue that the feeling of having the river all to yourself is worth it.

Rock Creek, Montana

Fish: WestslopeÌęcutthroat trout, rainbow trout, cut-bow trout, brown trout, brook trout, bull trout, Rocky Mountain whitefish, Arctic grayling

The 52-mile-long Rock Creek is a blue-ribbon trout stream east of Missoula, Montana, between the Sapphire and John Long Mountains. It has the highest fish counts in the stateÌęwithin its fast currents, deep pools, and undercut banks, all easily accessible by wading.

Four miles of Rock Creek runs throughÌętheÌę,Ìęa luxury dude ranch located on 6,600 acres. While the five-star property has a no-expenses-spared vibe, you’ll find a casual crowd that comes for the Old West spirit and knowledgable guides who can show you the best places to fish and share their secrets on which fly or presentation works best. And because most of Rock Creek flows through Lolo National Forest, anglers have easy access to the stream, as well as campsites and cabinsÌęif you want to go that route. Hiking, mountain biking, and other activities offer aÌębreak from catching fish.

Gauley River, West Virginia

Fish: Trout, smallmouth bass, walleye, muskellunge

West Virginia is home to New River Gorge National River, Gauley River National Recreation Area, and Bluestone National Scenic River, but the Gauley has more fish than the other two because of its unique ecosystem and remoteness. The river drops 668 feet through 25 miles of rugged terrain, with steep gradients and treacherous chutes that also make it a world-class whitewater destination.

Bobby Bowers, the owner of , personally designs every trip to each customer’s specifications, with rates starting at $150. He can get you close to high-yield spots,ÌęsoÌęall you’ll need to do is a simple roll cast from the raft’s swivel seat. Stay in a cabin (from $65) or rent a campsite (from $15) at . Besides fishing, the outfitterÌęalso offers rafting, stand-up paddleboarding, mountain biking, and rock climbing.

Horlachbach, Austria

Fish: Rainbow trout, brown trout, char

In an area of eastern Austria called Ötztal, a scenic valley surrounded by 10,000-foot peaks, fly-fishers enjoy deep, clear, oxygen-rich mountain streams like the Horlachbach, a tributary of the ÖtztalerÌęAcheÌęRiverÌęthat’sÌędotted with waterfalls. Locals claim the relative lack of brush growing along these waterways makes itÌęideal for fly-fishing. Stay in tepees, lodges, or double rooms at (from $46) along the high-volume waterway. The area also hasÌęclimbing, caving, canyoneering, and raftingÌęto fill the time when you’re not standing in the stream.

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Humans were born to walk. As a species, we’ve evolved a curved and forgiving spine, a skull set straight and upright, an efficient metabolism—all uniquely suited to propel us long distances. But it wasn’t until the advent of the automobile that we began hiking long distances recreationally, says Robert Moor, author of . “Once the predominant form of transportation was no longer ambulatory, we realized what a precious thing walking really is,” he says. “In the wilderness, hiking literally became the physical embodiment of freedom.”

And it’s never been more attractive. In 2013, about 34 million people walked our nation’s countless trails. By 2017, that number had risen to over 42 million. Meanwhile the number of people completing through-hikes on major routes is booming: last year a record-setting 4,917 people set out to tackle the Appalachian Trail, and hikers are expected to shatter that number again this year. Last year hikers from all 50 states and more than 40 countries set out to trek the Pacific Crest Trail. And the Continental Divide Trail has witnessed a steady 25 percent increase in traffic every season for the past five years, with 300 people expected to attempt it in 2018.

It’s getting crowded out there. But a sense of solitude and solace can still be found on all the trails we list here. “Hiking lets us disconnect for a bit and reconnect with ourselves,” says Kathryn Van Waes, executive director of the American Hiking Society. “Then we are better able to go back and give our full selves to the causes we care about.” —Kathryn Miles

Wild Rogue Loop

Location: Rogue River–Siskiyou National Forest, Oregon
Length: 27 miles
Duration: Three days
Permit: Not required
Intel:

This loop winds through the 35,539-acre Wild Rogue Wilderness, a rugged region steeped in Native American and 19th-century mining history. By 2015, much of the route had become nearly impassable, damaged by erosion, wildfire, and neglect. Then the Ashland-based Siskiyou Mountain Club scored around $30,000 in restoration grants from REI and the Oregon Recreational Trails Program, and the Wild Rogue Loop reopened to the public. Unlike the nearby Rogue River Trail, which parallels the federally designated Wild and Scenic waterway for 40 miles, the Wild Rogue wanders away from those banks and attracts fewer hikers. It’s a steep, narrow trail, once used to resupply miners, with camping spots amid an old-growth forest, in the canyons of Mule Creek, and alongside the river. Day hikes are possible, but it’s best done in full. Afterward, stop in Grants Pass, 67 miles to the southeast, for a beer and a burger at Climate City Brewing.

The Great Trail

Location: Victoria, British Columbia, to St. John’s, Newfoundland
Length: Over 14,900 miles
Duration: Three years
Permit: Required for some sections Ìę
Intel:

It should come as no surprise that the Great Trail, a web of singletrack, water routes, and rural roads that traverse all 13 of Canada’s provinces and territories, became the world’s longest recreational trail network when it was completed in 2017. Envisioned in the early 1990s to honor the country’s 125th birthday, the project required 25 years of land negotiations and construction, plus millions of dollars. Today you can pedal converted rail trails through farms and vineyards and sleep in roadside inns in British Columbia, paddle a fur-trading route in the Northwest Territories, ride horseback among great horned owls in Manitoba, and walk gravel paths while camping outside quaint fishing villages across Nova Scotia. Entry points aren’t hard to find: four out of five Canadians live within a half-hour drive of the trail. Our favorite section? The 280-mile Confederation Trail, a former railway that spans Prince Edward Island.

Sinai Trail

Location: The Gulf of Aqaba to the Gulf of Suez, Egypt
Length: 340 miles
Duration: Six weeks
Permit: Not required
Intel:

Egypt’s first purpose-built long-distance hiking trail was completed in 2015 by three Bedouin tribes and funded by NGOs to boost tourism on the far-flung Sinai Peninsula. Initially it was a 155-mile path, but this year the trail more than doubled in length, becoming a 340-mile loop across the vast Sinai Desert that passes ancient petroglyphs, apricot and almond orchards, and a 1,500-year-old monastery. You can do some sections self-supported, such as day-hiking Mount Sinai or crossing the steep El Gardood Plateau, but through-hiking requires a trained Bedouin guide, as water and resupply points are scarce. Plus they’ll cook, set up camp, transport your gear by camel, and teach you about their ancient way of life. The Sinai is just one of a growing number of long-distance trails in the Middle East. Another is the new 400-mile Jordan Trail, completed in 2017 and now attracting its first through-hikers.

FjÀllrÀven Classic Hong Kong

Location: The Sai Kung Peninsula
Length: 30 miles
Duration: Three days
Permit: $200 entry fee
Intel:

Hong Kong? Yep. Forty percent of the territory is covered by national parks, nature reserves, and some 185 miles of the world’s most stunning hiking trails. That’s why last year, Swedish gearmaker FjĂ€llrĂ€ven set out to showcase the island’s wild side as its latest Classic—trekking trips designed to get more people outside. Company founder Ake Nordin launched the first Classic in Sweden in 2005 and soon added annual events in Denmark and Colorado before expanding to China. On this newest iteration, in October, you’ll camp on beaches, amble through tropical forests, and catch the occasional glimpse of not so distant skyscrapers dwarfed by verdant peaks. The 30-mile traverse is self-supported, but there are aid stations along the way. Fellow Classic hikers will be on the route with you, but go at your own pace.

Great Eastern Trail

Location: Flagg Mountain, Alabama, to South Bradford, New York
Length: 1,600 miles
Duration: Five months
Permit: Required for some sections
Intel:

This through-hike is on its way to becoming a new icon. Created in 2007 by the Great Eastern Trail Association, the route now links existing pathways through the mountains west of the AT, from Alabama’s Pinhoti Trail to New York’s Finger Lakes Trail. You won’t find reliable markings yet, and crews across nine states are working to rebuild or redirect sections—about a quarter of the length remains unfinished, with paved and gravel roads serving as connectors—so at this point, it’s best done in smaller segments. The payoff is an empty wilderness that’s hard to find on the AT these days. There’s no guidebook, but the trail’s first through-hikers, Jo Swanson and Bart Houck, who completed the Great Eastern in 2013, offer extensive resources on their website GET Hiking. You’ll camp most of the way, but you can stay a night at resupply points like C&O Bicycle’s bunkhouse, in Hancock, Maryland.

Arizona Trail

Location: Montezuma Pass to Page, Arizona
Length: 800 miles
Duration: Six weeks
Permit: Required for camping in some locations
Intel:

In the 1980s, a Flagstaff schoolteacher named Dale Shewalter walked the Copper State, loosely mapping a vision that would become the Arizona Trail. The multi-use path traverses the region from the high desert near the Mexico border to an elevation of nearly 9,500 feet in the Huachuca Mountains, then continues north across the Grand Canyon, and finishes at the Utah state line. Walk the whole thing in a month and a half, or take on one of the 43 designated sections, like the 26-mile Gila River Canyons Passage, southeast of Phoenix. The system was basically completed in 2011, but crews are tackling five major improvement projects this year to replace dirt roads with fresh singletrack. Be sure to stop by That Brewery and Pub, just off the path in Pine, for a pint of Arizona Trail Ale, the sales of which help support the route’s building and maintenance.

Lechweg Trail

Location: Lech, Austria, to FĂŒssen, Germany
Length: 78 miles
Duration: Eight days
Permit: Not required
Intel:

Trace the emerald Lech River from its source, outside the quaint Austrian village of Lech, across the border to a collection of waterfalls near the Bavarian town of FĂŒssen. The route opened in 2012 and was immediately distinguished as the first transnational Leading Quality Trail, certified by the European Ramblers’ Association, which vets long-distance treks for criteria like proper infrastructure and access to cultural sights. By day you’ll meander through fields of wild orchids, spot alpine ibex, taste cheese at local dairy farms, and stroll past the royal castles of King Ludwig II of Bavaria before retiring each night to mountain chalets. You can even have your luggage shuttled from point to point. Stop for Tyrolean dishes like spinach spaetzle at Gasthof Kreuz, located trailside in Rieden, Austria. If you’re more of a day hiker, you can pick from 15 easy-to-reach stages.

Three Capes Track

Location: Tasmania, Australia
Length: 29 miles
Duration: Four days
Permit: $380 entry fee
Intel:

In 2015, Tasmania’s Parks and Wildlife Service opened the Three Capes Track as a way of drawing visitors to remote Tasman National Park. The best part? Only 48 hikers are Permitted each day, so you’ll have the sea cliffs perched above the South Pacific essentially to yourself. The entry fee is steep, but it gets you a detailed guidebook and three nights at newly built solar-powered cabins stocked with kitchen supplies, yoga mats, and board games. The journey begins at the Port Arthur Historic Site, where a ferry will deliver you to an isolated beach and the trailhead. Spend the next three days traversing bluffs, crossing rainforest and coastal woodland, and climbing the route’s highest peak, 1,585-foot Mount Fortescue. Starting this September, șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű GO will offer a new guided expedition of the trail, which includes overnight stays at private lodges, with on-site massage and three-course meals (from $2,175).

John Muir Way

Location: Helensburgh to Dunbar, Scotland
Length: 134 miles
Duration: Ten days
Permit: Not required
Intel:

The Brits love long-distance hiking so much that it’s practically their national pastime. They hike pub to pub along the 184-mile riverside Thames Path and spend weeks tramping the South West Coast Path through Devon and Cornwall. And in 2014, Scottish Natural Heritage and the Central Scotland Green Network completed a coast-to-coast trail called the John Muir Way (not to be confused with California’s famed John Muir Trail). It bi-sects the country from the west coast town of Helensburgh to Muir’s birthplace of Dunbar. You’ll visit castles and canals, tour Scotland’s first national park—Loch Lomond and the Trossachs—sip whisky at local distilleries, and sleep in farmhouse B&Bs or designated campgrounds. In Kilsyth, eat fish and chips at the Boathouse, a marina restaurant on the Forth and Clyde Canal. Book a self-guided trip with Glasgow-based Macs șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű, which will plan your accommodations and take care of bag transfers along the way (from $1,430).

Violet Crown Trail

Location: Austin, Texas
Length: 6 miles
Duration: One day
Permit: Not required
Intel:

When it’s finished in 2022, the Violet Crown Trail will be the longest of its kind in central Texas, a 30-mile pathway transporting hikers, bikers, and runners from downtown Austin into the countryside of neighboring Hays County. For now though, it’s a six-mile route that begins in the capital’s Zilker Park and rambles through the Barton Creek Greenbelt, passing swimming holes and limestone crags perfect for climbing. No camping is allowed along the route, so consider this a day hike. The trail was imagined in 1998, but it took decades for the Hill Country Conservancy and the City of Austin to raise the money to pay for it, purchase the 15,000 acres of land, and get the required voter approval before construction could begin in 2014. Three years later, work began on the next stretch—seven miles that will connect to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. When all’s done, the project will be a shining example of the power of urban trail systems.

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If you’re a dedicated skier or snowboarder, summer can feel like a long, hot wait until winter’s glorious return. Sure, you could fly to South America or Australia to find some snow, but it doesn’t have to be a slog to grab some turns during the year’s warmest months. We rounded up the best—and easiest—places to pretend it’s winter in the thick of summer.

Timberline

Mount Hood, Oregon

never really closes. This ski area on the flank of Mount Hood, an hour from Portland, Oregon, has extensive winter operations and continues to run its Palmer Express chair all summer long. Race and freestyle camps take up much of the space—Timberline is an official summer training site for the U.S. Ski and Snowboard Team—but there’s a groomed public run and terrain park in the Palmer Snowfield on the mountain’s south face. Tickets cost $71. Stay on-site at the historic (from $250), or grab a bunk or private room (from $22) at down the hill.

Hintertux

Tux, Austria

Each summer, , Austria’s only year-round ski resort, keeps open a whopping ten lifts, two on-mountain restaurants, and plenty of steep terrain. You’ll top out at 10,600 feet, with views of the Dolomites in the distance. Lift tickets start at $27, and there’s plenty to do here besides skiing. You can swim or kayak through an ice cave, mountain bike nearly 2,000 vertical feet below the snow line, or hire a guide to climb the 11,404-foot Olperer Mountain, which towers over the Zillertal Valley. Fly into Innsbruck, 50 miles away, and book a room at the aptly named (from $90), where a ski bus stops right outside.

Saint Mary’s Glacier

Arapaho National Forest, Colorado

If you’re craving snowy turns in July, you can usually score them at , an hour west of Denver, off Interstate 70, near the town of Idaho Springs. This high-elevation backcountry zone holds snow well into summer. There are no chairlifts, and backcountry knowledge is a must. You’ll be rewarded with views of Saint Mary’s Lake just below the snowfield and James Peak in the distance. It’s free to ski here; parking costs $5. There are lodging options in Idaho Springs, but we recommend booking a stay at the Forest Service’s , an hour away, for $80 a night.

Beartooth Basin

Beartooth Pass, Montana

doesn’t even operate in winter. This summer-only ski area, located outside Red Lodge, Montana, on the Beartooth Highway, opens every year around Memorial Day with a raucous party. This year, it’ll close down on July 8. There’s no lodge, and you’ll buy your $45 lift ticket from an old bus. Two Poma lifts powered by a biodiesel generator bring skiers to the Twin Lakes Headwall for 600 acres of above-tree-line bowl skiing, including cornices to huck and rails to slide. The terrain is steep enough to host freeskiing competitions each summer. Bring a grill to tailgate in the parking lot, and grab a beer afterward at the Red Lodge Ales Brewing Company.

Blackcomb Mountain

Whistler, British Columbia

You can grab some of North America’s coolest T-bar-accessed glacier skiing until July 15 at . In midsummer, it’s mostly kids and teens here for summer camp, but there is one public lane with jumps and rails, plus a groomed slope. Lift tickets cost $51, and don’t miss the outdoor barbecue at the mountaintop Horstman Hut. You can make it a multisport weekend by riding Whistler Bike Park, lower on the mountain, before or after you ski. Stay at (from $114), located a short walk from the gondola, and you’ll get a free bike rental and a tasty breakfast spread.

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