People say never give away the whole thing, the whole story, but with Madison Eats Food Tours, the reveal is necessary. The tour guide met us at Garver Feed Mill and supplied e-bikes, those rentals one now sees in various urban areas. Then he mapped out our journey. It would take three hours, slowly riding through various neighborhoods, parks, greenery, bike trails and urban side-streets, with just a handful of stops in-between for food. An amazing concept, one that certainly existed in other cities, but Madison was a place characterized by miles and miles of bicycle trails.Outdoorsy vibes already seemed to occupy everyone’s psyche. So it was perfect.

Leaving the busy city streets behind, we suddenly crossed into a coastal forest of eucalyptus and pine trees. After a few winding turns, we found a hidden fortress spread across 1,491 acres, perched high above San Francisco Bay. It was here that my family and I checked into The Lodge at the Presidio. Located inside a 250-year-old army post, the boutique hotel beautifully balances history and luxury—framing the international orange towers of the Golden Gate Bridge perfectly to serve as our ultimate urban home base.

With incredible stories to tell, the remarkable roadway is as earthy as a blues singer, as touched by fatigue as an aged opera singer, and as wonderfully passionate as a Hollywood diva, and conveys surprising charm around its every bend.

After a 60-minute cruise across the San Pedro Channel, we spotted the rugged island’s iconic round Catalina Casino and its tiny harbor full of colorful boats. We had made it to Catalina and our getaway to The Avalon Hotel was before us. Our journey to the island began aboard a Catalina Express high-speed catamaran, slicing smoothly through the deep blue water. After disembarking, we walked 15 minutes through town to the hotel, where we found a property so idyllic and charming, it reminded me of a Hallmark movie set.

Mount Rainer was sacred to my family. It was where my parents had their first date, picnic prepared by mom's mother. This time the joke was on my dad. He had thought that the elegant picnic basket, full of delectables, was made by my mom, later realizing she could barely boil an egg. Today, she can.

The Blue Ridge Mountains, and the infamous parkway that runs through them, are famous for many things: scenic drives; nature tours; hiking trails; fall foliage; farmer's markets; historical sites, and so much more. And yet none of that covers the most interesting attribute of this Roanoke region in Virginia's Blue Ridge, the city known as the gateway to the Blue Ridge Mountains, and its Franklin County neighbor. It's the "Moonshine Capital of the World." Before, during, and after Prohibition, bootlegging reigned supreme. And it's no slouch in today's world either.

Known as "The Jewel" of San Diego, La Jolla is famous for its unique geography that combines rugged sandstone cliffs, hidden sea caves, and pristine beaches. But besides all of its natural beauty, the town is also home to the 113-year-old Grande Colonial, one of the most historic and charming hotels around. 

Despite his dream of building a capital city along the banks of the Potomac River and unlike the real estate cliché “George Washington slept here,” America's first president never once laid his head down on a pillow within the District of Columbia, aka Washington, DC. The closest he ever got was a good night’s sleep at his homestead in nearby Mount Vernon, VA.

A crowd gathered in Philadelphia recently to enjoy a reenactment of George Washington’s commissioning and wreath-laying at the tomb of the Unknown Revolutionary War Soldier. Nearby, people were allowed to board a collection of historic ships to sail along the Delaware River. Other folks have been climbing into an Airstream travel trailer which is making a year-long cross-country tour. Once inside, they’re recording stories of their family history, honoring a local hero or simply describing what it means to them to be an American.

On the side of a brick building, at the corner of E 7th St and North Arizona Ave, a mural greeted me. This particular block of North Arizona was more of an alley than a street. It was open to cars, with a few parking spaces at an angle to the alley, but the short block was better experienced on foot.