These are the destinations I keep coming back to, keep recommending, and honestly, keep dreaming about in January when everything is grey and cold.
Sedona, Arizona — Where the Red Rocks Actually Do Something to You
I did not expect Sedona to hit me the way it did.
I figured it would be pretty in that postcard kind of way.
But when you are standing at the base of Cathedral Rock at golden hour, and the whole sky turns this impossible shade of burnt orange — something shifts inside you.
It is hard to explain without sounding dramatic, so I will just say: go.
Summer mornings in Sedona are surprisingly cool, which makes the hiking genuinely enjoyable before the afternoon heat rolls in.
I like to get out on the trails by six-thirty AM, before anyone else is really moving.
The silence out there is the kind you can actually hear.
If I had to pick one trail, I would point you toward the Boynton Canyon Trail — it winds through juniper trees and opens up into these wide red-walled corridors that feel ancient.
My personal hack: pack more water than you think you need.
And stay at least two nights, because one is never enough.
Sedona has this way of slowing you down, and honestly, I think that is the whole point.
Tap to Explore These Beauties
See my ideas in action 👇 Tap any image to explore full details.
The Florida Keys — Salt Air and No Agenda
There is a specific kind of lazy that only the Florida Keys can produce.
I drove the Overseas Highway for the first time a few years back, and I genuinely pulled over three times just to stare at the water.
That turquoise.
It does not look real.
Key West is the obvious destination at the end of the road, and yes, it is worth it — the food, the energy, the slightly chaotic charm of Duval Street at sunset.
But my honest recommendation?
Do not skip the middle keys.
Islamorada is where I always want to linger longer than I do.
The fishing is incredible if that is your thing, and the waterfront restaurants serve stone crab that ruins you for everything else.
Even if you are not an outdoors-obsessed person, there is something about sitting on a dock in the Keys in late June, bare feet over the edge, cold drink in hand, with nothing on the schedule — that just works.
It is cozy in a salty, sun-soaked kind of way.
Pack light, bring reef-safe sunscreen, and leave yourself a whole open day with absolutely nothing planned.
That unplanned day will be your favorite.
Yellowstone — More Wild Than You Are Ready For
My first trip to Yellowstone, I thought I knew what to expect.
Geysers, bison, pretty lakes.
What I was not ready for was how genuinely untamed the whole place feels.
You are not a visitor at Yellowstone — you are a guest in something that has been going on for millions of years without your input.
Old Faithful is worth seeing, but do not let it be the only thing on your list.
Get out to the Grand Prismatic Spring and stand at the overlook.
The colors — deep blue at the center, ringed with orange and green — look like something painted by someone showing off.
Summer is the best time to visit because the roads are all open and wildlife is everywhere.
I saw a wolf once, just trotting across the road like it had somewhere to be.
My advice: wake up early.
The animals are most active in the morning, the light is softer, and the crowds are thinner.
Book your lodging months in advance — I cannot stress this enough.
Yellowstone in summer fills up fast, and the in-park lodges have this cozy, old-world feel that you cannot replicate with a nearby hotel.
🗼 I Wrote a Book About My Japan Travel Catastrophes!
Before I landed in Tokyo, I thought I was the “Final Boss” of international travel. Spoiler alert: I WASN’T. 😅
🚅 I boarded the wrong Shinkansen and ended up in THE WRONG CITY. I confused locals with my “expert” bowing that was more awkward than accurate. I accidentally stumbled into a high-stakes Kendo practice thinking it was a tourist show. Sound like something you’d do?
“Things I Wish I Knew Before Going to Japan” is your shortcut to avoiding ALL my cringe-worthy mistakes. ✨ Inside, you’ll find practical, LIFE-SAVING tips on etiquette, transport, money, and hidden gems that will save you time, money, and a whole lot of confusion.
Pacific Coast Highway — Drive It Slow or Do Not Drive It At All
Some roads are just roads.
The Pacific Coast Highway is an experience.
I have driven it twice, and I would drive it a third time tomorrow without hesitation.
The stretch from San Francisco down to Big Sur is the one I always talk about — the way the cliffs just drop into the Pacific, the way the fog rolls in and out like the coast is breathing.
Pull over constantly.
Seriously, budget in extra time because you will not be able to help yourself.
McWay Falls is one of those stops where you park the car, walk two minutes, and then just stand there in silence for longer than you planned.
The waterfall drops directly onto a beach you cannot reach, which sort of makes it feel more magical.
My personal tip: drive north to south so the ocean is always on your right.
The views hit differently that way.
Bring layers.
Even in peak summer, the coast gets cool and misty, especially around sunset.
And stop in Carmel-by-the-Sea for lunch — it is a little precious, a little fairytale-ish, and the food is genuinely excellent.
Lake Tahoe — The Destination That Overdelivers Every Time
I always say Lake Tahoe is criminally underrated for summer travel, and people look at me like I am wrong.
Then they go.
And they get it.
The water is this impossible deep blue — cold, clear, the kind of clear where you can see twenty feet down.
Summer at Tahoe means paddleboarding, kayaking, hiking the Rim Trail, eating at lakeside restaurants, and doing absolutely nothing on the beach while the mountains sit behind you looking quietly magnificent.
I like the North Shore for a quieter, more local feel.
South Lake Tahoe is more developed, more buzzy — great if you want more nightlife options and a wider range of places to eat.
One of my favorite things to do: rent a kayak in the morning, paddle out toward the middle of the lake, stop moving, and just float.
The silence out there is something else.
Emerald Bay is the one spot I tell everyone to make time for — there is an old stone tea house on a small island in the bay, and hiking down to it feels like discovering something secret even though it is not.
Pack your sunscreen because the altitude means you burn faster than you expect.
Just trust me on that one.
New Orleans — Summer Heat and All, It Is Worth It
Most people tell you to skip New Orleans in the summer.
Too hot, they say.
Too humid.
And look — they are not wrong about the weather.
But here is the thing about NOLA in summer: the crowds thin out, the prices drop, and the city somehow feels even more itself.
The jazz spilling out of open doors on Frenchmen Street at ten PM.
The beignets at Café Du Monde with powdered sugar getting on everything you own.
The way the whole city smells like history and something frying somewhere close by.
I spent four days there one August and I was genuinely sweating the whole time, but I also had the best meals of my year and stumbled into a second-line parade on a Tuesday afternoon like it was the most normal thing in the world.
My honest summer survival tips for NOLA: stay somewhere with a pool, do your outdoor exploring in the morning, spend the hot midday hours in air-conditioned restaurants eating your way through the menu, and emerge again around five when things cool down slightly.
The Garden District walking tour is worth every drop of sweat.
The houses are stunning, the trees are enormous, and it all feels like being inside a very beautiful novel.
Maine’s Coastline — The Underrated Crown of American Summer
If you have not done a Maine summer, you are missing something quietly spectacular.
I went for the first time expecting lobster and lighthouses — which yes, both delivered — but what I did not expect was how much I would fall in love with the whole texture of the place.
The rocky shoreline.
The smell of pine and salt mixed together.
The way the fog sits in the harbor in the early morning like it belongs there.
Bar Harbor is the most popular gateway, and it earns the attention — it is charming, walkable, and surrounded by Acadia National Park, which is stunning.
But I want to put in a word for the smaller towns: Rockport, Camden, Stonington.
These places feel like Maine without the tourist volume, and they are exactly the kind of spots where you end up sitting on a dock for two hours just watching lobster boats come in and out.
My favorite Acadia hack: drive up Cadillac Mountain for sunrise.
It is one of the first places in the continental US to see the sunrise in early summer, and it is genuinely worth the early alarm.
Bring a fleece.
Maine summers are warm during the day and surprisingly cool at night, which is honestly one of my favorite things about it.
The Smoky Mountains — Soft, Green, and Good for Your Soul
There is something about the Great Smoky Mountains that feels like a deep exhale.
I went for a long weekend last summer and left three days later feeling like I had actually rested — which, if you know how I usually travel, is saying a lot.
The mountains are soft here in a way that the Rockies are not.
Rounded, green, layered in that blue haze that gives them their name.
Gatlinburg is the main entry point and it is kitschy in a cheerful way — I love it and I am not embarrassed about that.
But the real magic is inside the national park itself.
The Alum Cave Trail is one of my top five hikes in the country, full stop.
It winds through old-growth forest, over mossy log bridges, past this enormous bluff that makes you feel small in the best possible way.
Cades Cove is where you go for wildlife — deer, black bears, wild turkeys wandering around like they own the place (they do).
Go early in the morning when the mist is still sitting in the valley and the light is golden and low.
My tip: skip the car and rent a bike on the Cades Cove loop on Wednesday or Saturday mornings when the road is closed to vehicles.
Completely different experience, completely worth it.
Glacier National Park — Go Before Your Excuse Runs Out
I have been putting off Glacier for years.
Too remote, I told myself.
Too far.
Then I went.
And now I am that guy who tells everyone: stop waiting, just go.
Glacier is one of those places that recalibrates your sense of what beautiful means.
The Going-to-the-Sun Road alone is worth the trip — fifty miles of mountain driving that feels like it was designed by someone who wanted to make you question everything you thought you knew about scenery.
The lakes are cold and blue-green and absolutely real even though they look fake.
Lake McDonald, Swiftcurrent Lake, St.
Mary Lake — all of them doing something different with the light depending on what time of day you show up.
Summer is the only real window to experience the full park because the high alpine roads are snow-covered most of the year.
July and August are the sweet spot.
Book everything as early as humanly possible — the vehicle reservations for Going-to-the-Sun Road sell out faster than you would believe.
Bring layers for the morning hikes because even midsummer, those elevations are cold before nine AM.
And if you can swing a backcountry permit and spend a night under those stars — do it.
That sky is something I still think about.
🗼 I Wrote a Book About My Japan Travel Catastrophes!
Before I landed in Tokyo, I thought I was the “Final Boss” of international travel. Spoiler alert: I WASN’T. 😅
🚅 I boarded the wrong Shinkansen and ended up in THE WRONG CITY. I confused locals with my “expert” bowing that was more awkward than accurate. I accidentally stumbled into a high-stakes Kendo practice thinking it was a tourist show. Sound like something you’d do?
“Things I Wish I Knew Before Going to Japan” is your shortcut to avoiding ALL my cringe-worthy mistakes. ✨ Inside, you’ll find practical, LIFE-SAVING tips on etiquette, transport, money, and hidden gems that will save you time, money, and a whole lot of confusion.
Savannah, Georgia — Slow Down and Stay a Little Longer
Savannah has this thing it does where it makes you want to move slower.
The streets are lined with Spanish moss hanging off live oaks like the trees are just leaning back and relaxing.
The squares — all twenty-two of them — are these shaded little pockets of calm in the middle of a city.
It is the kind of place where you bring a book to a park bench and then forget to read it because you are too busy just being there.
I had a long lunch at a restaurant on the waterfront once that lasted almost three hours, and I did not feel one second of guilt about it.
That is Savannah.
The food scene is genuinely excellent — Southern cooking done with real care, fresh seafood, cocktails on rooftop bars with views of the river.
Summer in Savannah is hot and humid, same as most of the South, but the tree canopy in those squares keeps things more bearable than you would expect.
Forsyth Park in the early morning is one of my favorite places in the country — the fountain, the trees, the joggers and dog walkers, the whole sleepy-beautiful atmosphere of it.
My honest suggestion: stay at least three nights.
Two is never enough.
This city rewards the people who give it time.
The San Juan Islands — Water, Wilderness, and Genuine Quiet
The San Juan Islands in Washington state are sort of a secret that I am always slightly conflicted about sharing.
They are tucked up in the Salish Sea between the Washington coast and British Columbia, and they are genuinely one of the most peaceful places I have ever been in summer.
You take a ferry to get there, which already sets the tone — you are leaving the rush behind before you even arrive.
Orcas Island is my personal favorite.
It is the largest and the most varied — you can hike up Mount Constitution for views that stretch into Canada, kayak along the coastline, spot bald eagles doing their thing overhead, and eat incredible food at small restaurants that take their local sourcing seriously.
San Juan Island is the most popular and has more amenities — Friday Harbor is charming and walkable and worth a day at least.
Whale watching here is some of the best on the West Coast.
Orca sightings are common in the summer months, and seeing a fin break the surface while you are standing on a rocky beach is one of those travel moments that just stays with you.
My tip: rent a bike on Orcas Island and spend a full day exploring.
The roads are quiet, the scenery is stunning, and it is the best way to feel like the island actually belongs to you for a day.
Nashville + The Tennessee Hills — More Than the Honky-Tonks
Everyone goes to Nashville for the music, and they should — Broadway is loud and fun and exactly what it promises to be.
But the Nashville I keep returning to is the one that exists about thirty minutes outside of downtown.
The rolling Tennessee hills in summer are green and warm and sort of achingly beautiful in a way that sneak-attacks you.
Day trips from Nashville can take you to the Jack Daniel’s distillery in Lynchburg, which is a genuinely great few hours even if you are not a whiskey person — the history of that place is fascinating.
Percy Priest Lake is where locals go on hot summer days, and it feels like being let in on something.
Kayak rentals, swimming, the kind of afternoon that goes until sunset without you noticing.
Back in the city, the food scene has exploded in the best way — hot chicken is the obvious call, but the restaurant variety now goes well beyond the classics.
The Gulch neighborhood, 12 South, East Nashville — all worth a slow afternoon of wandering.
My honest summer tip: visit on a weekday if you can.
Nashville weekends, especially in summer, have a bachelorette-party-to-actual-local ratio that can feel overwhelming.
Weekdays are when the city breathes.
And honestly, a quiet Tuesday night on Broadway, with the music pouring out and the crowd just right, is one of the better things summer in America has to offer.
