If you want to experience the real wild side of Sin City, venture into the Mojave Desert. Its mix of rugged peaks and desolate valleys invite endless exploration. And , the world’s largest motorcycle rental and tour company, can take you there. This master in everything motorcycle travel is teaming up with Yamaha to outfit an exclusive guided tour designed to showcase the best parts of Las Vegas—that is, the natural splendor of the stunning deserts that lie beyond the always-on city.

Happening October 27–29, this will provide both first-time and experienced riders with an unparalleled taste of freedom, along with the comforts of relaxing hotel nights on the edge of Death Valley National Park.

“We’ve crafted this EAGLERIDER EXCLUSIVE to deliver an adrenaline-pumping tour experience that reveals the untamed beauty surrounding Las Vegas,” says EAGLERIDER CEO Sebastian Schoepe.

Along the way, participants will encounter the Mojave’s wildlife, feel the openness of desert riding, bond with fellow adventurers, and learn new techniques from expert guides. A blend of excitement and beginner accessibility, this multiday experience invites riders on a unique opportunity to detour the Strip on Yamaha’s cutting-edge adventure (ADV) bikes and utility terrain vehicles (UTVs). If you’ve never ridden a Yamaha before, you’re in for a treat; its fleet of 2024 bikes and side-by-sides is designed for comfort, safety, and performance to offer unparalleled full-throttle fun.

“Riders will experience the perfect mix of on-road touring and off-road thrills,” Schoepe says, “while exploring the Mojave on Yamaha’s latest rally raid–style adventure bike, the . On day three, they’ll have the chance to cross the desert in state-of-the-art Yamaha UTVs, an unforgettable ride to check off the bucket list.”

This carefully curated itinerary is the ultimate complement to a Vegas getaway (or an excuse to start planning one). During the tour, riders will cover up to 500 miles of diverse terrain, including approximately 100 miles of exhilarating dirt trails. Here’s a teaser of what you can expect each day:

Day 1

• Venture into the heart of the Mojave Desert.
• Visit , a geothermal cave system, and the Area 51 Alien Center.
• Unwind at the Ranch at Death Valley.

Day 2

• Ride through the colorful hills of .
• Take in the extraordinary overlook of Badwater Basin from .
• End the day in the charming town of Pahrump, Nevada.

Day 3

• Cap off your Mojave expedition with an adrenaline-fueled UTV tour.
• Check out the historic .
• Visit to the renowned Seven Magic Mountains art installation.
• Take a keepsake photo at the iconic Las Vegas welcome sign.

If you want to join this grand on- and off-road tour, reserve your spot now. Space is limited to 15 participants, and it’s priced to fill. This exclusive guided tour starts from $1,676 and will leave you with memories and skills that last a lifetime. (Price is per person, with motorcycle rental and hotel stay included.)

There are other opportunities to experience the outdoorsy side of Vegas with EAGLERIDER. You can book an exciting off-road side-by-side experience into the wilds of the Mojave Desert year-round. This is the perfect way to fill your adventure void if you can’t make the three-day Yamaha tour or if you don’t have a motorcycle license yet.

is the world’s largest motorsport experience company, offering a diverse range of motorcycle and off-road adventure rentals and tours from over 200 locations across six continents. Since its founding in 1992, EAGLERIDER has provided exceptional, high-quality adventure experiences for enthusiasts worldwide.

The post Discover a Wilder Way to Visit Las Vegas appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Outdoor adventures haven’t come easy for James Lawless, a career firefighter who discovers that being a Ford Bronco owner provides free access to the action-packed Bronco Off-Roadeo experiences located across the country. So a trip to provides a timely escape. Lawless tackles the rugged terrain outside of Las Vegas, then teams up with Bronco Ambassador , who leads him up his first rock climbing route. Watch the rest of șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű’s three-part series with Ford, profiling unique, overworked individuals who find outdoor adventures as the antidote for their unhealthy work lives.

is a global company based in Dearborn, Michigan, committed to helping build a better world, where every person is free to move and pursue their dreams. The company’s Ford+ plan for growth and value creation combines existing strengths, new capabilities and always-on relationships with customers to enrich experiences for customers and deepen their loyalty.Ìę

The post The Off-Road Antidote: Bronco Off-Roadeo Nevada appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

If you want to experience the real wild side of Sin City, venture into the Mojave Desert. Its mix of rugged peaks and desolate valleys invite endless exploration. And , the world’s largest motorcycle rental and tour company, can take you there. This master in everything motorcycle travel is teaming up with Yamaha to outfit an exclusive guided tour designed to showcase the best parts of Las Vegas—that is, the natural splendor of the stunning deserts that lie beyond the always-on city.

Happening October 27–29, this will provide both first-time and experienced riders with an unparalleled taste of freedom, along with the comforts of relaxing hotel nights on the edge of Death Valley National Park.

“We’ve crafted this EAGLERIDER EXCLUSIVE to deliver an adrenaline-pumping tour experience that reveals the untamed beauty surrounding Las Vegas,” says EAGLERIDER CEO Sebastian Schoepe.

Along the way, participants will encounter the Mojave’s wildlife, feel the openness of desert riding, bond with fellow adventurers, and learn new techniques from expert guides. A blend of excitement and beginner accessibility, this multiday experience invites riders on a unique opportunity to detour the Strip on Yamaha’s cutting-edge adventure (ADV) bikes and utility terrain vehicles (UTVs). If you’ve never ridden a Yamaha before, you’re in for a treat; its fleet of 2024 bikes and side-by-sides is designed for comfort, safety, and performance to offer unparalleled full-throttle fun.

“Riders will experience the perfect mix of on-road touring and off-road thrills,” Schoepe says, “while exploring the Mojave on Yamaha’s latest rally raid–style adventure bike, the . On day three, they’ll have the chance to cross the desert in state-of-the-art Yamaha UTVs, an unforgettable ride to check off the bucket list.”

This carefully curated itinerary is the ultimate complement to a Vegas getaway (or an excuse to start planning one). During the tour, riders will cover up to 500 miles of diverse terrain, including approximately 100 miles of exhilarating dirt trails. Here’s a teaser of what you can expect each day:

Day 1

• Venture into the heart of the Mojave Desert.
• Visit , a geothermal cave system, and the Area 51 Alien Center.
• Unwind at the Ranch at Death Valley.

Day 2

• Ride through the colorful hills of .
• Take in the extraordinary overlook of Badwater Basin from .
• End the day in the charming town of Pahrump, Nevada.

Day 3

• Cap off your Mojave expedition with an adrenaline-fueled UTV tour.
• Check out the historic .
• Visit to the renowned Seven Magic Mountains art installation.
• Take a keepsake photo at the iconic Las Vegas welcome sign.

If you want to join this grand on- and off-road tour, reserve your spot now. Space is limited to 15 participants, and it’s priced to fill. This exclusive guided tour starts from $1,676 and will leave you with memories and skills that last a lifetime. (Price is per person, with motorcycle rental and hotel stay included.)

There are other opportunities to experience the outdoorsy side of Vegas with EAGLERIDER. You can book an exciting off-road side-by-side experience into the wilds of the Mojave Desert year-round. This is the perfect way to fill your adventure void if you can’t make the three-day Yamaha tour or if you don’t have a motorcycle license yet.

is the world’s largest motorsport experience company, offering a diverse range of motorcycle and off-road adventure rentals and tours from over 200 locations across six continents. Since its founding in 1992, EAGLERIDER has provided exceptional, high-quality adventure experiences for enthusiasts worldwide.

The post Discover a Wilder Way to Visit Las Vegas appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

You’re looking at the Sherwood chairlift at the main base area of , a small ski resort located about 35 miles outside Las Vegas, Nevada. What a mess, right? Stones and mud are piled high enough to reach the machine’s drive bullwheel—the apparatus that powers the lift. At the adjacent lift, Bluebird, the debris pile touches the hold-down assembly—the series of wheels and sheaves that the chair rolls over before proceeding uphill. Nobody will be riding these lifts for a while.

This past winter’s epic powder dumps in and California made skiers like myself accustomed to seeing those glee-inducing photos of chairlifts disappearing into chest-high snowdrifts. The images of Lee Canyon’s lifts buried by mud and rock hit a little different, right? It’s a macabre reminder of nature’s destructive power.

The rock pile is from a massive landslide that ripped down the adjacent 11,289-foot Lee Peak over the weekend of August 19-20. The avalanche of rock and mud tore open some of Lee Canyon’s ski slopes and pushed boulders up against the towers of its lifts. Aerial images of the slide show exposed water pipes jutting from a rift in one run. Another image shows tree trunks scattered around the base like Lincoln Logs.

Lee Canyon and the greater Spring Mountains area was struck by remnants of Tropical Storm Hilary—the same storm that closed Death Valley National Park and other public lands, and drenched much of Southern California. The storm dropped an estimated ten inches of rain in the mountains surrounding Lee Canyon, causing flash flooding and landslides. Parts of the Mount Charleston area Some of the roads and recreation areas are closed through October 1 due to the cleanup.

You can see the underground pipes of some kind have been exposed as well

— Mt Charleston Mountain Man (@mountainman_mc)

How long will it take to remove the rocks and mud from below Lee Canyon’s chairlifts? The resort has yet to announce a timeline for the cleanup, but the U.S. Forest Service has closed the surrounding Spring Mountains National Recreation Area indefinitely. A few days after the storm hit, the saying that it had officially ended its summer mountain biking season early. Then, on Thursday, August 24, the resort released images showing the catastrophic damage. In a statement, resort management said it still planned to be open for the 2023-24 ski season. But for the near future, all terrain, lifts, and infrastructure will remain closed.

“This was an extraordinary storm event, which has left significant damage to Lee Canyon and the Spring Mountains,” said Dan Hooper, Lee Canyon’s general manager in a statement. “Our goal is to ensure public safety. When the U.S. Forest Service deems it safe, Lee Canyon’s teams will begin restoring affected areas.”

We wish them luck, and hopd to one day see photos of the Sherwood and Bluebird lifts covered in snow.

The post This Nevada Ski Resort Got Walloped by Tropical Storm Hilary appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

One: Bus #108

Bus #108 parallels the Las Vegas Strip along ordinary streets. Locals hop on and off, returning home from work or heading downtown to find some action, mainly service and security workers buried in their phones.

Two convention center staff women shuffle on, lanyards dangling from their necks. Vegas loves lanyards. “Well shiiit, another convention in the books,” one says, looking satisfied with the honest day’s work and ready for a drink.

Flying into Las Vegas at 8:45 P.M. on a Friday night is a lot to process, but throw in 27,000 runners arriving from all 50 states and over 60 countries for the and this translates to overpriced Lyfts and Ubers clogging Harry Reid International Airport. I choose the public bus instead, which should drop me within walking distance of the race’s expo at the Hilton at Resorts World. Let’s see.

A man seated near me keeps going bottoms-up with a mini bottle of Fireball, even though it’s clearly long gone. Six Turkish exchange students pile on and poke fun at each other next to two bearded men playing “Welcome to the Jungle” from a Bluetooth speaker shaped like a bowling ball. And just as the Strip comes into view, everyone in Bus #108 begins singing along, including me.

Welcome to the Jungle.

Two: Missing Leg

The casino hotel elevator smells like a cross between formaldehyde and strawberry Pedialyte.

Inside, a one-legged man glugs a Coors tallboy behind silver aviators—it’s 10 A.M. In the time it takes us to reach the 56th floor, I learn that his name is Yasir, that he is from Saudi Arabia, and that his other leg is a Nike carbon blade picked up days earlier in Houston, just for this race.

“Come,” he says, “I show you.”

In his hotel room, the stranger makes me feel the difference between his old prosthetic and this new treasure. He hands over his blade with flattened palms, as if it were a samurai sword. In a way, it is.

I perform a bicep curl with the new blade, then with the old leg. Far superior. He giggles, slams the rest of his breakfast beer, and begins to thumb-flick through photos on his iPhone to a video of a man holding a rifle, sulking behind bushes in a desert. After five seconds, a shot fires and the man drops to the ground. This surveillance footage is of Yasir, the moment he lost his leg, the moment his life changed forever, the moment that would eventually bring him here, 8,000 miles from Jeddah to the Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas Half Marathon.

Several years ago, the man had been a military officer on patrol in Yemen when a Houthi rebel sniper shot him. The conflict between Saudi Arabia and Yemen reaches back to 2004, when Saudi Arabia intervened in Yemen’s civil war after the Houthi ousted Yemen’s president. A coalition of Gulf States formed to regain order, and Yasir was a military officer on patrol when he was popped.

“Were you even a runner before you got shot?” I ask.

“No, no. Only walking,” he says.

“So you’re telling me that losing your leg made you start running?”

“That is what I am telling you.”

Three: Teeth Whitening

Shuffling along casino carpets patterned in asynchronous honeycomb fractals, camouflage for cocktail spills and vomit, I pass slot machines with names like Attack from the Planet Moolah, All Aboard!, and Three Eyed God, en route to the Rock ‘n’ Roll Health & Fitness Expo.

Every registrant must enter through a tunnel swiveling in neon lights—imagine TSA on LSD—and a paparazzi-style wall of ivy (it was fake; I nibbled some), which funnels into the tented expo. DJ Cable spins records, mixing “It’s Getting Hot in Here” with “Getting Jiggy Wit It.”

Nicole Christenson is the race director for the Rock ‘n’ Roll Running Series Las Vegas. Having grown up here, she knows the ever-evolving Vegas entertainment scene as well as anyone. Her vision for the race, alongside an enormous team of staff and volunteers, is to orchestrate an event that’s more than a footrace, but something of an alternate reality.

“We’re excited to once again welcome participants from all around the world to Las Vegas for the world’s largest running party,” she told me earlier. “The Las Vegas weekend is our marquee event providing people a totally immersive experience that fits the energy of running the strip at night.”

In this, they are succeeding, with a well-oiled #StripatNight theme that mimics Vegas’ 24/7 atmosphere—just swap out free vodka tonics and quarter slots for Lululemon activations and giveaway Ironman lip balm.

This year marks the 25th anniversary of the Rock ‘n’ Roll Series, which started in San Diego in 1998. Its mission was to infuse running events with fun and live music, to create a race that doubled as a block party for more casual runners, while maintaining a competitive edge for elites. The concept spread to cities around the country and world, and now there have been 47 Rock ‘n’ Roll race venues in 12 countries. Ironman—perhaps you’ve heard of them?—now owns the Series, adding yet another notch to their dynastic portfolio. This race weekend alone will inject Las Vegas with an additional $165 million in economic activity.

When I ask two expo security guards in yellow vests what they know about the security detail for the race, all they say is:

“It’s deeper than you could ever believe.”

And yet, there’s also something refreshingly inclusive about this race, encouraged by its accessible location and shorter race offerings—5K, 10K, and half marathon. Rock ‘n’ Roll events appeal to everyone, no matter how much you run, even that lone elder in the corner wearing a prom satin sash that says: “I Eat Tacos,” even the several runners I watch reclining in a horseshoe of La-Z-Boys at the expo’s Teeth Whitening Station, zapping their teeth with proprietary blue light. The booth’s associate approaches me, holding a rack of fake teeth in declining states of decay and, with her Russian accent, demands that I open my mouth.

“You’re a four,” she says with a blinding smile. “Stain scale goes to ten.” Her teeth? A solid two.

Four: Local Legend

Jayden is a six-foot-two, 19-year-old, self-proclaimed military brat with bleached hair, soaking wet and wrapped in a tin foil blanket. He, alongside several thousand others, just completed the Rock ‘n’ Roll 5K, and it rained the entire race. The course finished at the Fremont Experience, north of the Strip, and I’d tucked into a casino to find a most unusual scene: hundreds of runners wrapped in foil like baked potatoes and taking refuge at slot machine stools.

“I’ve been on this crazy weight loss journey,” Jayden says. “Lost 120 pounds in the last nine months. Running was a big part of that, kept me in that mindset, and that’s why I’m here.”

Despite over half a million residents calling Las Vegas home, 94 percent of this weekend’s race participants arrived from outside the city. But this doesn’t surprise Jayden. “Not many people can say they’ve run in the rain in downtown Fremont or the Strip,” he says. “That’s why running Rock ‘n’ Roll is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

RELATED: Run Your First—or Best—Half Marathon with This Comprehensive Training Guide

Jayden studies hospitality management at the University of Las Vegas (“He lost so much weight because he don’t live with his Mexican momma no more,” his mother tells me, who stands next to him), and he dreams of one day becoming an entrepreneur. “What’s the word—franchise. I want to own me some franchises!”

Five: Peppermill Ambrosia

One major perk of running the world’s largest night race is that you can brunch hard on race day. And Vegas? Vegas brunches hard.

I love breakfast here, as a cultural experience, my friend Brendan Leonard texted, referring to the Peppermill Restaurant and Fireside Lounge, the city’s cultish greasy spoon that’s served mobsters, conventioneers, and now, runners, since 1972. Leonard had completed Vegas’ esteemed , so I trusted his tip.

Approaching the cafe’s blacked-out windows, I’m immediately hit with an overflow of wait lines and saucer plates serving 64-ounce Scorpion cherry brandy cocktails and tables clustered under a neon grove of fake trees and plates of breakfast ham the size of printer paper and Bloody Mary’s a foot tall. Two Indian tech entrepreneurs from Toronto sit at the diner bar just as I do, and Josie, in her white sneakers and royal blue skirt, pours three coffees, no-look, not even asking if we want coffee—of course we do—and she will forever know the three of us as best friends coming to dine at the Peppermill together, until the check needs to be split.

The Indians wonder why I would ever come to Las Vegas to run, or to do anything healthy. Fair question, especially as they sop up their hungover guts with Denver omelets and hash browns topped in shakes of Tabasco before picking up a Jeep rental for a trip to the Grand Canyon. “Four-hour drive, easy. America,” they say.

After Josie’s eight refills of over-creamed coffee and whatever a French Toast Ambrosia is, I slap my new friends on the back, wish them well, and exit properly carb-loaded, prepared for the evening’s foot race.

Six: Honeymoon Double

Sarah and Christopher Sevick traveled to the Las Vegas Rock ‘n’ Roll Race from Norwich, Connecticut, an unlikely pairing at first glance but a fitting example for why this race matters to so many. Sarah, 52, short and tightly-wired, had already completed the 5K and was preparing for the half marathon. No one I speak with all weekend will be more thrilled about running the half than Sarah. That is, with the exception of her husband, Chris, who stands beside her smoking a Camel Light, with drooping earlobes and a black T-shirt that says:

Runner’s Husband
Yes, She’s Running
No, I Don’t Know When She’ll Be Home
Yes, We are Still Married
No, She’s Not Imaginary

Chris isn’t a runner, but he loves more than anything to support his wife’s running goals, especially when it takes them to Vegas. “This race is really emotional for us because we got married here years ago,” he says. In Connecticut, Sarah is a craps dealer at the Mohegan Sun Casino, so she loves coming here to see how the pros do it. Through an East Coast accent, Sarah can’t contain her enthusiasm. “It’s an opportunity to run the Strip at night for one time in my life!” she says.

I ask if they intend to party afterward, to celebrate the double and their marriage. Sarah smirks, looks around as if to whisper her darkest, most diabolical fetish, and says: “Well, I do like beer.”

Seven: Volcano

The Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon course is shaped like a bowtie:

Starting at Planet Hollywood, in the middle of the Strip, it sends everyone south to the Welcome to Las Vegas sign before a 180-degree turn to follow the length of the Strip north, to the Fremont Experience, before curling back to the middle of the action, the base of The Mirage volcano.

After a long wait in the corrals, the Rock ‘n’ Roll production outdoes itself with a full lineup of stretching exercises by trainers, dancing acts, a DJ throwing beats, even a muscle man in black suspenders performing headstands on a tower of cafeteria trays propped up by tumbler glasses.

Finally, the race starts and things are moving. Crowds spread and we’re all in this great heaving motion together. Deployed at every intersection are hundreds of police officers beside school buses and limos to block a potential breach. Helicopters and drones hum nonstop above. The first turn of the bowtie comes at the city’s southern edge, where there’s more sand and more browns and more desolation, like a high that’s wearing off.

The sun is going down and, as we turn, all of Las Vegas appears front and center. Into a slight downhill now as the Strip comes rushing towards everyone and quickly I am back in the middle of this psychedelic neon bath with spectators screaming along a traffic-free Las Vegas Boulevard. (The only other time the Strip closes down is for New Year’s Eve.) Here, each runner ingests infinite light and 200-foot ads for strip clubs and the Blue Man Group and Katy Perry dressed up as a mushroom and posters for shows like “Menopause the Musical.” I lock eyes with an old lady in the crowd sipping an electric green daiquiri as she watches this snake of runners pass, punching the air with our balled fists.

Peppered every few miles are live bands and DJs which add to the collective fervor, one of my favorite parts of the race. Mariachi. Tupac remix. Fall Out Boy covers. Shania Twain. I reach the north end as night falls and see now that this place never sleeps, that everything feels so much more authentic at night here. It’s . . . beautiful?

Ten miles in, a firework display crackles, reminding me of Yasir the Saudi getting shot by a Yemeni rebel sniper, and I wonder how his blade is holding up, just as I find myself hissing at a man after he shoves me at a water station because I’d cut him off. (I never hiss.) Perhaps he’s anxious about making the final turn of the bowtie, which we are doing now, to square up with the Strip again, eye-to-eye with this ephedra-gobbling fire god, this raging slot machine canyon of Eiffel towers and pyramids and Venetian canals and volcanoes pulling us all back to its source. Here we are, asking everything from our tendons and limbs and goals, to be fast, to remain visible, to reach toward something for no practical reason other than it makes us feel alive, makes us feel real, and maybe that’s enough, and as I cross the finish line at the base of an erupting synthetic volcano, I can feel the heat from the finishing chute’s horned flames burn across my face, and I think to myself: Goddamn. Now I love this place, too.ÌęÌę

Nicholas Triolo is the Senior Editor forÌęșÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű žéłÜČÔÌęČčČÔ»ćÌęTrail Runner. He has been a competitive ultrarunner since 2008.Ìę

The post Seven Unlikely Encounters at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas Race appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

May 1, 2022, sunny. Seventy degrees at dawn, heading to the mid-eighties. Perfect Lake Mead weather. Out on the water, @onechickentaco hits the throttle and his boat rises up on a plane, gliding over smooth Lake Mead glass. Real name: Nathan Hollister. His wife, Shawna, is beside him, wearing her usual boat attire: bikini and sunglasses. Damn gurl, he writes on Instagram. Green lake, blue sky, tan cliffs, jagged brown mountains—just right. “My goal is to have more fun than everyone around me at any given time,” his site bio says.

Slight hassle getting out there today. The boat ramp had to be extended a quarter-mile across the sand. Climate change, megadrought. A sign warned:

DANGER
LAUNCH AT
YOUR OWN RISK
LOW WATER LEVELS

After cruising around for a bit, Hollister beaches on a spit of sand that was underwater a few weeks ago. Posts a shot of the boat to his 412 followers. No one on board. Towel draped over the seats. My boat is running like a raped ape, he writes. #boat #fun #lake #float #pretty.

He wades in up to his knees and casts a lure. The good life. He was in Afghanistan, in the Air Force, and now he lives in Las Vegas, spends weekends riding boats and dirt bikes and shooting guns for fun. He posts a pic of the rod and reel, his feet immersed in clear turquoise.

By 3 P.M., it’s around 86. Nathan and Shawna are getting baked by sun and dried by wind as he cruises back into Hemenway Harbor, a big marina in Lake Mead National Recreation Area, to the west of Hoover Dam. That’s when it happens. Later Shawna will describe the moment to a TV reporter: “We heard a woman scream from the side of the beach, and then my husband went over to obviously see what was wrong. And then he realized there was a body there in a barrel.”

The barrel was on its side in the sand. A week earlier, it had been submerged. A few years ago, 40 feet under. Decades ago, 200 feet. It’s rusted out, so you can see a pelvis and femurs scrunched up in there. Holy shit. Shawna takes a picture.

“It’s heartbreaking to see that it’s someone’s loved one out there,” she tells the reporter. “So I hope they get justice, or at least somebody finds out who it is.”

She posts a picture on Insta. “We found a body at Lake Mead today ,” she says. By that night, the photo is all over the . All over the internet. Some outlets blur the bones—what, to protect the children? Others run it as is. Shawna writes on Facebook: “Well shit they put my name out there!”

Her husband writes: “Snitch!!”

Neither of them returns multiple phone calls and messages from me, inviting them to talk about it. Guess I’ll have to ask somebody else.

The post Man In a Can appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Like many people, I assumed a lot about central California’sÌęDeath Valley National Park before visiting for the first time in 2015: that it was completely dry, utterly devoid of life, and composed of not much more than a shadeless expanse of sand. Had I known that the park stood in for the dramatic landscape of Tatooine in Star Wars, however, perhaps I would have thought differently.

From my very first hike in the park—to Darwin Falls, a year-round cascade that spills into a surprisingly verdant canyon—I learned that you can’t always judge a national park by its name. Death Valley is very much alive. In addition to the lengthy human history in this part of the Mojave Desert, the area is rich with wildlife, from mountain lions to mule deer, desert bighorn sheep to wandering burros.ÌęThe park is also home to several species of endangered pupfish that are endemic to its scant water sources.

While the floor of Death Valley itself is relatively flat, it’s hemmed in by the sharp rise of the to the east and the Panamint Range on the west, which contains the park’s high point:Ìęthe often snow-dusted . Far below these lofty ridgelines, the earth creases in endless waves of rock decorated in bold striations and bursts of color thanks to the abundant metals and minerals contained within. The landscape itself is far from barren—more than 1,000 plant species populate Death Valley, from cacti and creosote in its lowest reaches to junipers and pines up high.

If there’s one assumption I did get right so long ago, it’s that Death Valley National Park is hot, vast, and remote. As long as you’re prepared—staying well hydrated, protecting yourself against the elements, and planning for limited gas, food, and sundries—this seemingly alien landscape is a wonder to explore.

What You Need to Know Before Visiting Death Valley

Prepare your rig.

If you plan to cruise the park’s dirt roads, ensure your car is outfitted withÌęoff-road tires and that you have spares; flats are especially common on the park’s gnarly 4×4 roads. Gas is available inside the park at Panamint Springs, Stovepipe Wells, and Furnace Creek, but carry extra if you’re venturing beyond the pavement. No matter where you plan to travel within the park, carry plenty of water and maps—cellphones don’t work in most of Death Valley, and GPS devices can prove unreliable.

ResearchÌęthe park’s deep human history.

While it was designated a national monument in 1933Ìęand a national park in 1994, Death Valley has a record of human habitation that stretches back an estimated 10,000 years. While much of the park’s current boundary encompasses the homeland of the , who have resided here for at least 1,000 years, they were largely displaced during the Gold Rush and subsequent decades. The park’s myriad ghost towns, along with historic sites like the , , and , document this influx of settlers and extractive industry.ÌęPerhaps the most intriguing relic is . It’s currently closed due to flood damage, but you can book a ticket when it reopens for a tour of the building’s exquisite interior, complete with the fascinating tale of a grifter named Death Valley Scotty.

Pack your camera—and set your alarm.

Desert light can veer from harsh to otherworldly in an instant. Early birds flock to to watch the sun paint the colorful badlands as it rises. The morning spread from Dante’s View is a worthy alternative. The centrally located form a dramatic backdrop at either end of the day.ÌęHike out a bit to lose fellow spectators and their footprints. Finally, make a golden-hour pilgrimage along scenic Artist’s Drive to , an explosion of color created by the oxidation of various metals and minerals embedded in the rock.

How to Get to Death Valley National Park

Death Valley is located in central California, pressed up against the Nevada border. The nearest major airport is Las Vegas McCarren, two hours from the park’s main visitor center atÌę. If you’re driving from Las Vegas, you’ll pass through Death Valley Junction, a near-ghost town with a tiny population, before entering the park from the east. Those traveling from Los Angeles, 2.5 hours by car, can also cruise up scenic U.S. Route 395, entering the park from itsÌęwestern entrance at Panamint Springs via CA-190 out of Olancha.ÌęOr enter the park via NV-374 from Beatty, Nevada, a small town located two hours northwest of Las Vegas.

WhenÌęIs the Best Time of Year to Visit Death Valley?

Fall:ÌęStartingÌęin late October, when camping season begins and the crowds have yet to arrive, temperatures range from 50 to 70 degrees. Unless it’s your destination, avoid the annualÌęÌęduringÌęthe second weekend of November.

Winter:ÌęThe months of November to February brings cooler temps ranging between 40 and 77Ìędegrees, along with potential snowfall at high elevations. Despite Death Valley’s general dryness, precipitation is most likely in winter. Because of the area’s topography, heavy rainfall can prove dangerous. In 2015, flash floods ripped through the park, trapping visitors and damaging infrastructure.

Spring:ÌęMarch to early MayÌęboasts the most ideal weather and, in wetter years, vibrant wildflower blooms, which usually peak around late March. It’s also the best time to view pupfish darting around the habitat they are named after. This is the most popular season in the park; while there are plenty of campsites to go around, a weekend arrival means you may have to drive around a bit to find a place to lay your head.

Summer:ÌęThis season is for masochists—and for those who either stick to the park’s highest reaches or stay put inside their air-conditioned vehicles. The heat index is relentless from May through October; highs rocket into triple digits and can hover there overnight. For this reason, park authorities close several campgrounds and caution against outdoor activities during the day.

Where to Stay in Death Valley

Camping

The park hasÌę, four of which are free, with others starting at $14. All of them are first-come, first-served, except for the 136-siteÌę (from $16), which takes reservations between October and April. While Sunset (closed in summer) and Stovepipe Wells are the largest campgrounds, with 270 and 190 spaces, respectively, my favorite is the 92-site Texas Springs, which is centrally located and perched just high enough to offer great views of the surrounding area. is allowed in previously disturbed areas—the wilderness boundary is 50 feet from the park’s dirt roads. Be sureÌęto park your carÌęright next to the road to minimize impact.ÌęIf you’re planning a summer stay, be awareÌęthat Texas Springs and Stovepipe WellsÌęclose due to the oppressive heat and dangerous ground temperatures.

Hotels

During hotter months, you may want to skip the campgrounds altogether and check into within the park. The most affordable options include the family-ownedÌę (from $55), which has 23 motel rooms, one cottage, and tent cabins; the 83-roomÌę (from $144); and the (from $199), which has 275 rooms along Highway 190 next to the National Park Service visitor center. If you’re looking for something that’s more resort, opt for the recently refurbished (formerly the Furnace Creek Inn, from $359), a lush, Mission-style resort with 66 rooms and 22 casitas that defies the arid surroundings. There’s affordable lodging available outside the park in the town of Beatty and at the historic Ìę(from $90) in Death Valley Junction, but choosing to bed down farther inside the park will allow you to avoid a sleepy drive on either end of the day.

What to Do in Death Valley National Park

At 3.4 million acres, most of them designated wilderness, Death Valley is one of the largest national parks. That spaciousness means there’s plenty of room to roam—but it also means you’ll probably spend a lot of time blasting the AC in the car. If you plan to spendÌęseveral days here, schedule your activities by location.

Hiking

For the most part, it’s best to avoid hiking Death Valley in the hotter months. If you insist, a good warm-weather option isÌę, the park’s high point at 11,049 feet. Bed down at the ten-site Mahogany Flat Campground next to the trailheadÌęfor an early start on the strenuous 14-mile round-trip hike. Keep an eye out for gnarled stands of ancient bristlecone pines along the way. Within a mile, the vegetation gives way to unobstructed views of the valley.ÌęThe meadow between Rogers and Bennett Peaks is a good place to camp if you want to break up the hike into two days.

Plenty more options abound if you hit the ground in late fall, winter, or early spring. The one-mile hike to Ìęis family-friendly, with a payoff less than half a mile into the high-walled canyon at a picturesque arch caused by erosion. You’ll find the trailhead 13 miles south of Furnace Creek. Farther north, near Scotty’s Castle, offers a choose-your-own-adventure option with three very different trails: skirt the two-mile rim of the colorful depression that wasÌęgouged out of the earth centuries ago by a volcanic explosion;Ìętake a one-mile out-and-back that traces the western rim to its smaller adjacent crater, Little Hebe;Ìęor descend to its sandy bottom. Just remember: what goes down must climb 600 feetÌęback up.

My personal favorite is the loop that winds through labyrinthineÌę. The trip offers varying routes that range in difficulty and is doable in as few as 4.2 miles, though it’s worth adding more miles to visit , the towering Red Cathedral formation, and the sharp folds of Death Valley’s dramatic badlands. Start at the Golden Canyon Trailhead, located two miles south of CA-190 on Badwater Road.

Overnight options abound for backpackers. One of the most iconic excursions is to Panamint City, an impressively intact ghost town that once boomed with prospectors mining its stores of silver ore. The steep, strenuous 14-mile round-trip hike begins along a crumbling roadbed in water-filled Surprise Canyon,Ìęabout an hour south of Panamint Springs.ÌęBring a map and expect scrambling, overgrown vegetation, and wet feet.

Driving

Death Valley boasts nearly 1,000 miles of roadbed. While many are accessible by passenger car, the possibilities expand if you’re rolling in a vehicle blessed with high clearance and four-wheel drive. Most who exploreÌębeyond the pavementÌęand maintained dirt roads choose to do so in a jeep; rent one from , located near the Furnace Creek Visitor Center.

One of the most famous—and famously difficult to access—spots in Death Valley is the , a dry lake bed dotted with large boulders that move during infrequent freeze-thaw conditions, leaving slug-like trails in the playa crust. It’s a long, rough drive to get here; tradition dictates a stop at mile 20Ìęto hang a kettle at Teakettle Junction. Once you arrive, six miles later, tread very carefully—prints from humans and vehicles are not only unsightlyÌębut can scar the Racetrack playa, which is especially delicate when wet.

Farther north, an equally long drive deposits you at the , thought to be some of theÌętallest in North America. To the east, the narrow road in cuts through 27Ìęmiles of the towering Grapevine Mountains, located between the outskirts of Beatty and Scotty’s Castle Road in the park’s center. Keep an eye out for hikers and cyclists, and plan to stop along the way to visit the ghost town of Ìęand admire bighorn sheep and petroglyphs at Klare Spring.

One of the park’s standout features is also the lowest spot in North America: , a salt flat located 282 feet below sea level. For an exceptional vista that, on a clear day, includes , the tallest peak in the continental United States, cruise up to Dante’s View, an overlook perched high above the valley floor.

Cycling

Ìęlaunches from the Furnace Creek Visitor Center and leads to Harmony Borax Works, but if you want a grand adventure riding on pavement, consider bisecting the park east to west or north to south. Beyond that, pack a mountain bike (and fix-it gear, plenty of water, and current paper maps) to explore the park’s extensive network of dirt roads. The only limitationsÌęare time, physical ability, weather (winter and early spring are ideal), and water availability (scarce). If you’re not so keen on going it alone, plenty of operators, from REI to local outfits, offer paid tours.

Stargazing

One of my favorite stargazing experiences happened during a late-winter evening at the site, where it seemed the entire galaxy opened up overhead. As it turns out, Death Valley is aÌęstar nerd’s dream; with little in the way of light pollution, it’s been certified as a Dark Sky Park by the . Rangers lead frequent night-sky programs, but it’s pretty easy to enjoy the sights on your own—just head anywhere that’s not obscured by canyon walls and look up. For a somewhat dreamlike experience, trek across the Mesquite Sand Dunes at sunset and stick around for the sky to open up. Just pay attention to your route—it’s easy to lose your way in the lunar landscape.

The Best Places to Eat andÌęDrink Around Death ValleyÌę

You might want to pack a cooler—it’s slim pickings in this corner of the Mojave. Dining options are clustered around the Furnace Creek, Stovepipe Wells, and Panamint Springs areas, including at the hotels.ÌęThe latter two offer relatively basic fare and unfussy settings, although the digs at Stovepipe Wells provide a bit more Western flair, especially at the . The , located in the town square area of the Ranch at Death Valley, cranks that theme up to eleven, with loads of atmosphere and fancier grub, and prices to match. Believe it or not, there’s also a poolside bar inÌęthe park, complete with cocktails and cabanas, though it’s limited to guests of the Inn at Death Valley.

It’s worth a visit to Death Valley Junction on either end of your trip to order breakfast or lunch from the slim but well-curated menu at the historic , open fall through spring.

If You Have Time for a Detour

Speaking of Death Valley Junction, no visit is complete without a tour of the , lovingly restored by a dancer from New YorkÌęnamed Marta Becket who discovered the abandoned theaterÌębuilding in the late 1960s while stranded in the tiny outpost with a flat tire. Though Becket died in 2017, the theaterÌęcontinues to present films, concerts, and stage shows in her honor; tours are available year-round.

Another can’t-miss is , a large and well-preserved ghost town located just outside Beatty, Nevada, whose population soared into the five digits before it shuttered in 1916. Among the remaining buildings are three unique bottle houses, made by embedding glass beverageÌębottlesÌęinÌęmortar, builtÌęby a prospector named Tom Kelly, who gathered his materials from the dozens of saloons that once dotted the town. It’s not the only sign of artistry in the area—the down the road features a collection of massive sculpture installations that rise from the desert floor.

How to Be Conscious

In 2016, the endangeredÌętiny pupfish at made a big splash in the news when three men were arrested for trespassing in its protected enclosure. One of them decided to go for a drunken swim with the endangered-fish population, which numbers just over 100 in total, and landed himself a prison sentence after a dead fish was discovered in the pool. That’s all to say: don’t be that person.

Also, protect yourself by paying attention to the surroundings. Death Valley is pockmarked with thousands of shafts from abandonedÌęmines, and though the park has been working on it for a decade, it’s only been able to sign and barricade a portion of them.ÌęOpen shafts abound, so steer clear.

Editor’s Note: We frequently update this National Parks guide, which was originally published on Nov 6, 2019.

The post The Ultimate Death Valley National Park Travel Guide appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Dear Sundog: I love the desert. From my own muggy home, I try to make it to the Southwest every year: Tucson, Santa Fe, Joshua Tree, St. George. I’m considering moving there. But is it wrong to move to a place that doesn’t seem to have enough water to support the people already living there? —Dry Curious

Dear Dry:ÌęFirst we must consider that all desert towns are not equal. Many have managed to restrict their water use and growth to some semblance of balance with nature, while others— and —continue to expand, even as their current water supply dries up.

While of course water delivery to millions of people is complicated, in this region, the ecological culprit is obvious: grass.

Sundog loves to run his toes through verdant lawn as much as the next guy.ÌęBut the modern American lawn—the half-acre of Kentucky bluegrass sprinkled daily, mowed weekly, petro-fertilized seasonally—has no place in the desert, even as it’s become emblematic of a sort of golfy affluence in Sedona and St. George. The EPA says that in the Southwest, 60 percent of household water use irrigates the outdoors. Put another way, for every four gallons used for cooking, washing, and bathing, another six go for preparing the croquet course. Yet another way: a year’s water supply with a lawn would—without a lawn—last two and a half years.

Lawns are a European import, brought to the arid American desert first by settlers from places like the Scottish Highlands and southern Germany, where grass just naturally occurs, and second by the wave of 20th-century snowbirds from places like Virginia and Michigan where, also, grass just grows. Why must the white man turn Scottsdale into Scotland, even as it quickens the decline of his desert colony?

In , Jared Diamond relates a story about the first Europeans to occupy North America: the Vikings, who settled what is now Greenland, four centuries before Columbus arrived on the continent. They planted their European crops and brought cows, which didn’t fare well in the new terrain. In the harsh winters, food was scarce. The settlers observed the Inuit hunting seals and then heating their homes by burning blubber, eating the meat—surviving. But the Norse considered this slimy meat beneath their dignity and considered the Inuit to be wretches. They refused to consume it. As a result, they starved and fled back across the sea, ending their four-century stay in the Americas.

Mightn’t we say the same, Dry Curious, about the maladaptive desert grass farmers? They see the water bills. They witness the ongoing drought. They know that the artificial lifelines from Lake Powell and Lake Mead, which have existed for just a geological blink of an eye, are filling with silt and approaching dead pool. And still they sprinkle.

Even as the vast majority of these settlers were born right here in the USA, Sundog speculates that their attachment to turf is some sort of emotional inheritance from the Motherland of moors and meadows. Their colonies here are predicated on the notion that their forefathers discovered an unpeopled dry wilderness, which they irrigated into their own slice of Eden.

But it’s not true. Indigenous people built complex, irrigated, agricultural civilizations along the Salt River and the Rio Grande and the Colorado River that sustained them thousands of years longer than our current one. If you visit a reservation or a town settled by the Spanish before the Anglos arrived—think Santa Fe or Old Town Albuquerque or Barrio Viejo in Tucson—you won’t find many lawns. You’ll see cactus and piñons and junipers and native shrubs and rock work and sometimes just plain dirt: a kind of xeriscaping that predates the word xeriscaping.

Long before the advent of gringo water projects, these places were habitable due to natural factors: Santa Fe had a cool high elevation and a snow-fed river, Tucson had the lush summer monsoons and the perennial Santa Cruz River, Albuquerque had fertile soil along the Rio Grande. To be sure, Native people don’t dislike greenery; most of the green parts of the desert were taken from them, along with the water rights. And I should also clarify that modern Americans of all skin tones love themselves a moist lawn: it’s not just a white thing. The point is that the people who have inhabited the desert for centuries are still inhabiting it, and showing others how it can be done.

But for today’s turf warriors to acknowledge all of that would be to question the short-sighted premise of the American petro-state, an experiment that has lasted less than a century. And so instead of ripping up that sod and planting it with native shrubs and grasses, they clench that garden hose more tightly with their sunburned fists.

To continue the Collapse analogy: Anglos can see Natives eating the fish (conserving water) and have the capacity to eat fish themselves (to stop watering lawns), but they would rather go extinct than give up their lush leas that they once saw Mel Gibson charge across in Braveheart.Ìę

The next factor to consider in moving to the desert is your capacity for being hot. Along with cheap water, the modern Southwest was built with cheap electricity to run air conditioners. And it’s only getting hotter. A reports that six counties in Arizona—including Maricopa, home to 4.5 million people in and around Phoenix—are in danger of becoming uninhabitable in the next 30 years as the planet warms. Does that mean that people will flee? Of course not. They will just use more oil and electricity to cool their homes and cars. Let’s face it: there wasn’t some recent past where Phoenix was a sustainable oasis. ItsÌęcentury-long boom has been dependent on electricity produced by burning coal on Navajo land and a major nuclear power plant, as well as cheap gasoline for driving five miles to get a cup of coffee.

Sundog dreams of a future where all desert dwellers inhabit homes with foot-thick walls made of natural materials like straw bales and adobe, where they run swamp coolers from solar panels on the roof, and capture rainwater in barrels and irrigate native plants with drip lines. While that futureÌęhas arrived here and there, the vast majority of desert homes are poorly insulated mash-ups of drywall and fiberglass and pine sticks that dump precious water onto a square of sod and burn hot coal to blow cold air at the eternal sun. Warming the planet in order to chill our homes is madness.

In general, yes, it’s ethical to move to the desert, provided that you’re not intent on growing a green lawn and that you canÌęhack the 100-degree summers without cooling your home to 72. Remember that you’ll be moving to Indian Country; be an ally to tribes defending their land and water and sovereignty. Avoid Phoenix and Las Vegas and St. George, which have placed themselves on a one-way path to drought catastrophe. In the desert, small is beautiful, and there are still plenty of shaded creeks flowing through the canyons, providing life for small bands of humans, where you can build the future as you want it. Sundog won’t tell you where they are, but if you look hard enough you might yet find one.

The post Should I Move to the Southwest, Even Though There’s a Drought? appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

This summer is set to be another huge season for camping and road trips. AlreadyÌęmany places are seeing major campsiteÌęand shortages, with reports of to get around. Luckily, a growing crop of companies are leasing overlanding rigs and camper vans to road-trippers looking to get away without the burden of hard-to-get bookings.Ìę

These outfits also allow those who want to sample nomadic life a way to test out options before committing to ownershipÌęand the dizzying array of equipment choices that now confront van builders. “The [overlanding] gear industry has grown so big that it’s easy to get overwhelmed,” says owner Alex Birukova, who explains that many of her customers appreciate the ability to test out the various features and systems on her rental rigs before they purchase their own.Ìę

Others rent Birukova’s vehicles while theirs are beingÌębuilt. WaitingÌęlists at van conversion companies and camper manufacturers normalized remote work and made an untethered lifestyle more plausible for many. , a company that makes pop-up truck-bed campers designed for off-road travel, reported a dramatic increase in sales (and wait times) since last May, when its factory reopened. And , a website dedicated to converting Sprinters to campers, has seen a 50 percent increase in site traffic since the pandemic began—and wait times for new vans ranging from several months (for a Ford Transit) to nearly a year (for a 4×4 Mercedes).Ìę

We rounded up our favoriteÌęrental companies in six cities, plus the bestÌęweekend trips to test your rig out on.Ìę

San Francisco, CA: Cypress Overland

The vehicles: Choose between a Toyota Tacoma TRD Pro with a GoFast pop-up truck bed camper, a lifted Jeep Wrangler Rubicon with a rooftop tent, or a Jeep Gladiator with a rooftop tent. All come with a refrigerator, a deluxe Kanz Outdoors kitchen kit, memory-foam mattresses, and bamboo-topped camp tables with chairs. From $195 a day

The trip: Hire Cypress Overland to design your own beach or mountain itinerary, complete with GPS coordinates to jaw-dropping dispersed campsites. OrÌędrive three hours north from the Bay Area to California’s Lost Coast, leaving Highway 1 for six miles of steep and twisty unpaved road to Usal Beach and its dispersed oceanside camping spots. Watch the sun sink into the Pacific, then next morning, continue north through to Shelter Cove, where you can spy on seals and sea lions or swim from black-sand beaches walled by steep mountainsides. Finally, drive east to Highway 101 to return to San Francisco, stopping in Petaluma for Lagunitas’s freshly brewed ales.

Las Vegas, NV: Pacific Overlander

The vehicles: The Las Vegas location (Pacific Overlander also operates out of San Francisco) leases a Toyota Tacoma fitted with an Alu-Cab Khaya camper that sleeps up toÌęfour in a heated interior that comes with a fridge-freezer and on-demand hot-water shower system. Also available: aÌęTacoma with two rooftop tents (to sleep four), a Jeep Wrangler Rubicon (with one rooftop tent) and a Toyota 4Runner (with one rooftop tent). Upgrade to an Exped Megamat for ultimate sleep comfort. From $195 a day

The trip: Drive 200 miles east to Tuweep, the least-trafficked district of Grand Canyon National Park, and claim one of nine campsites beside Toroweap Overlook, where sheer sandstone cliffs plunge 3,000 feet down to the silvery ribbon of the Colorado River. Hike the Tuckup Trail along the North Rim for unparalleled views of the Big Ditch, then drive east to aptly named Point Sublime and claim one of two little-known campsites beside pink cliffs dotted with pines ($15 permit required from the Backcountry Permit Office).

Denver, CO: Titus șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Company

The vehicles: Lexus GX460, Jeep Wrangler Sport, and threeÌęmodels of campervans. Rooftop tents sleep two to four people (on the Sequoia), and all vehicles come with a bat-wing awning, full kitchen kit, Yeti cooler, and even a Colorado state-parks pass. From $220 a day

The trip: For $30 a day, Colorado native Travis Titus designs custom itineraries complete with secret fishing holes, can’t-miss barbecue joints, and little-known campsites. But oft-visited central Colorado still holds gems: Veer off I-70 to ogle aspens at , then drive over Crooked Creek Pass for knockout summit views and uncrowded limestone sport climbing in . Continue southwest past Ruedi Reservoir to hook trophy trout in the Fryingpan River before passing through the towns of Basalt and Carbondale to Marble. From here, the 13-mile Lead King Loop features panoramas of spire-like summits and wildflower meadows.

Jackson, WY: Teton Backcountry Rentals

The vehicles: The larger of TBR’s two options is a GMC Sierra fitted with a brand-new Four Wheel Grandby pop-up camper; the smaller Four Wheel Hawk camper sits on a Chevy Silverado. Both include upholstered bench seating,Ìęa queen-sizeÌębed,Ìęan interior kitchen fitted with a propane-powered heater, refrigerator and two-burner stove, a 20-gallon water tank, and a six-gallon water heater with outdoor shower.ÌęFrom $229 a day

The trip: TBR offers five levels of trip-planning consultation to help renters locate dispersed campsites in the Wind River Range or plan hiking or packrafting epics in the Tetons. Or just design your own adventure by driving north from Jackson to camp in the Gros Ventre Range east of Highway 191. The numbered dispersed sites at Shadow Mountain, in the , offer incomparable views of the Tetons. Then drive west to camp among the lodgepoles at (from $42)Ìęin Grand Teton National Park: aÌęfive-minute walk leads to Jackson Lake and its sweeping views of Mount Moran, and the Hermitage Point trailhead lets hikers explore the lakeshore on a ten-mile loop from camp.

New York, NY: Escape Campervans

The vehicles: The Maverick is a Ford E-150 or Ford Transit with a queen bed that converts to a table and benchesÌęand comes with an optional rooftop tent that expands sleeping capacity to up to four people. The larger Big Sur offers more cargo space in a Ford-350. Both models include kitchenettes and “bug socks” that cover the rolled-down windows with netting for nighttime ventilation. Rear-wheel drive lets vans handle highways and smooth dirt lanes (but not soft beaches or rocky roads). From $49 a day

The trip: With 13 rental locations across the U.S. and Canada, Escape facilitates point-to-point rentals for cross-country road trips. For a wild circuit that returns to New York City, drive north to the and Shelving Rock Road, a gravel lane offering dispersed camping among pines and hardwoods. Then roll east into Vermont’s to claim one of the 15 primitive campsites at Silver Lake, where six hiking trails hug the shoreline and scale the surrounding hills.Ìę

Orlando, FL: Ondevan

The vehicles: Ford Transits and F-350’s fitted with custom beds and cabinetry sleep up to two people on extra-long, full-sizeÌęmattresses that accommodate seven-footers. Ceiling fans bring air in or out, an interior sink and seven-gallon water tank makes for easy dish duty, and camping extras (such as portable grills and hammocks) cater to epicures and lounge lizards.ÌęFrom $89 a day

The trip: Drive five hours northwest to the state’s wildest forests and emptiest Gulf Coast beaches. Campsites at offer access to nine miles of undeveloped beaches and dunes. Then drive north into the near Crawfordville, where sandy, unpaved roads lead to secluded campsites among saw palmettos and longleaf pines, where black bears still roam. Returning to Orlando, stop off at Wakulla Springs to swim or paddle with the manatees that winter here.

The post The Best Rental Rigs for Your Next Road Trip appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Far-flung trips are about to get a little less far-fetched. In 2020, several U.S. airlines will introduce new direct routes to some of the world’s most scenic and celebrated destinations. Many of the flights were designed with one travel category in mind: adventurers.

From the oceanfrontÌęback roads of MauiÌęto adrenaline-pumping rock climbing in Cape Town, here are sevenÌęeasier-to-access destinations in 2020.

New York to Cape Town | United Airlines

United AirlinesÌęmade history by launching the first direct flight from the U.S. to Cape Town, South Africa, in December 2019. The route from Newark Liberty International AirportÌęto Cape Town International (from $800) will continue into 2020 and 2021. It shaves roughly eight hours off the typical flight pathÌęfrom New York to Johannesburg to Cape Town, making South Africa’s oldest town just 14 nonstop hours away.

As your Boeing 787-9 makes its descent, Cape Town’s rugged mountains and vast coastline will give you all sorts of giddy goosebumps. AtÌę, one of the “new seven wonders of the world,” there’sÌęmoderate hiking along the Platteklip Gorge Trail, a strenuous and steep 1.2-mile trek up the India Venster route, or 63 different climbing routes up the 3,500-foot flat-topped mountain.ÌęA cable car makes getting down a breeze. To capitalize on the city’s waterfront locale, enjoy beginner surfing at Muizenberg Beach or tackle the big, hollow waves at Llandudno Beach.

Los Angeles to Christchurch | American Airlines

Starting in October, Ìęwill make accessing New Zealand’s South Island easier than ever with a direct flight from Los AngelesÌęto Christchurch (from $2,000). The rideÌęwill lastÌęroughly 13 hours, andÌęincreased operation will be offered during the height of New Zealand’s spring and summer.

The country’s highest mountain, , is a scenic four-hour drive from ChristchurchÌę(aÌędrive many make via camper van; rental pricesÌęstart at $19). Within the peak’s surroundingÌę, you can hike to the backcountry via theÌę6.5-mile out-and-back , tough out theÌęsteep climb to theÌęÌęfor views of icebergs, and trek in the footsteps of Sir Edmund Hillary, who used Mount Cook as his training ground for Mount Everest. The bungee-jumping and whitewater-rafting hub of Queenstown is about 300 miles southwest of Christchurch. Many road-trip through Lake Tekapo, Mount Cook, and Wanaka along the way.

Dallas to Auckland | American Airlines

The South Island isn’t the only part of New Zealand welcoming more fliers in 2020. American Airlines will wingÌęfrom Dallas to ,Ìęon the North Island, starting in October. This $2,000 nonstop flight—the first from Dallas–Fort Worth to New Zealand—will also be around 13 hours.

Upon landing, head two hours south to the limestone caves of Waitomo for a blackwater rafting trip through a labyrinth of glowworm-illuminated caves. Drive two more hours south, and you’ll be smack-dab in the middle of real-life Mordor at Tongariro National Park. Here,Ìęthe steep but splendidÌę12-mile Tongariro Crossing leads you through the volcanic terrain of New Zealand’s oldest national park.

Philadelphia to Casablanca | American AirlinesÌę

American Airlines will open its first route to Africa with a $900 flight from Philadelphia to Casablanca, Morocco, beginning in June. TheÌęnonstop journey will run three times per week through September. That means Morocco’s top surfing is just a seven-hour flight away.

The capital city and coastal town of Rabat is less than two hours via train ($8)Ìęfrom Casablanca. There, pro surfer Abdel El Harim organizes lessons and outings through his . El Harim also runs a traditional Moroccan guesthouse, the Surf House, with beds that start at $15 per night. For extreme surfing, drive roughly five hours down the coast to the Berber fishing village of Taghazout, where you can ride powerful waves for up to half a mile on a goodÌęday.

Chicago to Fairbanks | American Airlines

Starting on May 7, midwesterners can make a beeline for the Arctic with American Airlines’ daily $680 service from Chicago to , Alaska. The six-hour nonstop flight from O’Hare International Airport will run during summer 2020; a similar route will simultaneously open from Dallas–Fort Worth International Airport for $695.

Just 200 milesÌęfrom the Arctic Circle, Fairbanks gets more than 20 hours of daylight in the peak of summer. This means that kayaking or fishing inÌęthe nearby Ìęcan last well into the night. Denali, a bucket-list adventure haven,Ìęis a mountainous two-hour drive away. Few trails exist in this 9,492-square-mile national park; instead, you have the rare chance to traverse a truly remote wilderness.

Las Vegas to Maui | Hawaiian Airlines

Ìęis making tropical winter getaways easier than ever with its six-hour Las Vegas-to-Maui flight, which launched this monthÌęandÌęstarts at around $400. At the airport, rent a car ($40 daily) andÌęhead offÌęalong the wild and rugged ÌętoÌęget acquainted with the island. The iconic route featuresÌę60 miles of hairpin turns and clifftop vistas that can take up to a full day to explore.

Don’t just admire the ocean views,Ìęjump in with a snorkeling or scuba-diving tour along the vast coral reefs off the island’sÌęcoast. Whale sharks, manta rays, and sea turtles greet divers at the popular Molokini Islet, a volcanic crater off southern Maui. Snorkel tours to Molokini cost roughly $100.

Detroit to Tokyo | Delta

This spring, Ìęwill begin shuttling passengers to Tokyo—hosting theÌęOlympic GamesÌęthis summer—with aÌędirect flight from Detroit to Tokyo Haneda. The 13-hour flight, which runs roughlyÌę$1,500, is the best Olympics option for midwestern travelers. Delta is also offering the route from Atlanta, Seattle, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Honolulu, and Portland, Oregon.

From Haneda, a 40-minute ride on the Tokyo Monorail ($5) will drop you off in the heart of central Tokyo. Venues such as the Ariake Gymnastics Center, the Ariake Urban Sports Park (home to cycling and skateboarding), the Ìę(for swimming and triathlon), and the are easily accessible from the Tokyo Metro. To set out on adventures of your own, Japan’s iconic snowcapped and climbable Mount Fuji is a two-hour drive away.

The post 7 New Direct Flights to șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Hubs in 2020 appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.