Now that winter's finally over, it's time to put the top down and hit the open road. We've got the car keys to terrific trips all across the country and our quick itineraries make it easy to find a drive and destination that's right for you.
1. VIRGINIA: LAND THAT I LOVE
My husband, Bronson, thinks I swear too much. That's why he presents me with a shellacked-cedar cuss bank at Luray Caverns in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley. We can't resist the vivid green billboards announcing nature's hidden treasure at exit 264 off Interstate 81, which cuts through the fertile region that historians call the Breadbasket of the Confederacy. Discovered in 1878, Luray is the largest cavern in the East. Hearing a spooky "stalacpipe" organ there wheeze the notes to "O Shenandoah" in a subterranean chamber is alone worth the price of admission. Aboveground, Bronson spots my keepsake in a gift shop selling pewter spoons and stenciled porcelain bells; it reads "Swearing is bad and just ain't funny, so if you cuss it will cost you money." Frankly, I don't know what the hell he's talking about. (Clink. In goes a quarter.)
Once a year, we load up the Honda, bribe our black Lab, Diva, into the rear, and drive 500 miles south from New York to Charlottesville, Virginia, for an agrarian refresher. It's an exhausting slog, dodging semis until we hit the Old Dominion state line. On rural Route 11, we wind down the valley where, almost 150 years ago, General Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson opened up a big can of whup-ass on the Grand Army of the Republic. (Clink.) Sandwiched between the Allegheny and Blue Ridge ranges, this shunpike began as the Great Warrior Path through Cherokee territory. When colonial settlers left for the frontier, it became the Great Wagon Road. By the time Jackson's brigade fought the Valley Campaign of 1861-62, Route 11 had been paved with gravel-and-tar macadam.
We break up our journey at the 103-acre Inn at Vaucluse Spring, outside Stephens City. The stone-and-brick Federal-era manor was originally built by the son of Gabriel Jones, the commonwealth's first regional attorney. According to the family history Defend the Valley, Jones's only fault was "an extremely irritable temper, which when aroused expressed itself in the strongest terms he could command, mingled with very pronounced profanity." (Bet he didn't have a cuss bank.)
In the nearby village of Edinburg, we're browsing through Shenandoah Valley guidebooks in People's Drugs when someone pounds me on the back. "Help you with anything?" It's pharmacist Harry Murray, who also dispenses advice about his true vocation—fishing (the drugstore is stocked with fly-fishing tackle and videos). Recently, a friend said that if I were deathly ill in Murray's store and someone ahead of me in line needed a new rod, I just might have to wait.
Crossing Massanutten Mountain on shady switchbacks through Edinburg Gap, we parallel the broad south fork of the Shenandoah River, which flows north into the Potomac. Diva finally gets her reward for sitting patiently in the back seat. An outfitter rents us a canoe and we glide over gentle ripples shaped by submerged limestone ridges as our pooch scans the shoreline for snapping turtles. At the pullout, Diva splashes in the muddy shallows and for the rest of the day our car smells of wet, happy dog.
Farther south, the breadbasket is being gobbled up by industrial parks and sprawling housing developments. It's heartbreaking to witness centuries-old farmland sprouting prefab McMansions, so we turn east toward 105-mile Skyline Drive. In the 1930's the Civilian Conservation Corps built this twisting road along the crest of Virginia's Blue Ridge. It runs the full length of Shenandoah National Park and has scenic overlooks every few miles. But its speed limit is a poky 35 mph, so we detour to the Thorofare Mountain Overlook, a knockout vantage point above the hickory forest toward the Piedmont (rolling countryside directly beneath the eastern ridge).
Hungry for pulled pork, we head to Cooter's Place in Sperryville. Ben "Cooter" Jones played a mechanic on The Dukes of Hazzard, served two terms in Congress, and currently performs as genial host at his fan museum/barbecue joint. On summer weekends live bluegrass concerts pull in the crowds, and every August the converted garage sponsors its annual DukeFest reunion celebration. Actress Catherine Bach, Daisy Duke herself, once stopped traffic for hours; Bronson wants his picture taken with the road cone-orange General Lee, a 1969 Dodge Charger that jumped a creek or hill almost every episode.(Sadly, Jones closed his place in Sperryville at the end of last year, but he's since set up shop in Gaitlinburg, Tennessee.)
Once Diva finishes her barbecue tidbit, we continue up the road to visit some live porkers. David Cole's pigs dine on vegetable scraps from the Inn at Little Washington (black-truffle pizza, wild mushroom napoleon). Cole, a former America Online exec, is plowing a fortune into an organic agri-venture at Sunnyside Farms, 15 miles north of Sperryville. In exchange for kitchen waste, Cole's farm supplies the nearby inn with free-range eggs, heirloom apples, and the plumpest blackberries I've ever seen.
Over sweet iced tea at Little Washington, chef Patrick O'Connell and I discuss local politics. He tells me about a town hall meeting where a resident, distraught over the transformation of this pastoral corner, asked: "Don't you think we could just postpone the future?" With his partner, Reinhardt Lynch, O'Connell has been a primary source of change in the county, seeding cottage industries, attracting a roster of world-class culinary talent, and, most recently, restoring a manor house to create the Presidential Retreat, a B&B set snug against Old Rag Mountain, just 20 minutes away.
At sundown, a quick dogleg off Route 231 takes us from precious perfection to something a little closer to home—truffle pizza is mighty nice, but country ham suits my Southern upbringing. The Graves' Mountain Lodge in Syria has been serving family-style dinners since 1965. Its pine-paneled dining hall is lined with trencher tables and every few feet, baskets of warm rolls are paired with slabs of margarine and bowls of the lodge's own apple butter. (Apple butter is to Virginia's Piedmont what olive oil is to Tuscany.) As we sit down, huge platters of fried chicken are placed in front of us.
Next morning, we head an hour south on busy Route 29 to Charlottesville. When I was 12, my mother shipped me to Virginia to visit her spinster aunt, who drilled me on etiquette (swearing isn't ladylike) and dragged me to historic landmarks. Thomas Jefferson's Monticello in Charlottesville was my favorite. Never one to postpone the future, Jefferson could gaze down from his Palladian house at his equally elegant university, now a World Heritage Site. Despite his fascination with inventions, our third president's vision of his newborn nation was understandably agrarian. In 1785 he wrote to John Jay: "Cultivators of the earth are the most valuable citizens...they are tied to their country and wedded to its liberty and interests by the most lasting bands." Jefferson's own garden was a laboratory with more than 400 species of fruits and vegetables. Of course, he didn't envision genetic crop engineering or farm subsidies. Know why so many Virginia fields are now grazed by burly Black Angus? Big hint: tax break.
But for some wealthy Piedmont landowners, grapes are sexier than cows. In 1979 the state had 29 wineries; now there are almost 85, including those in development. Across Carter's Mountain, where Jefferson planted his own vines, is Kluge Estate Winery, Vineyard & Farm Shop, a flamboyant new enterprise. And when Patricia Kluge, a British bombshell formerly married to media billionaire John Kluge, opens a farm shop, don't expect John Deere gimme caps. The shop, designed by California architect David Easton, showcases her méthode champenoise sparkling wine and a Bordeaux-style red. In her black Range Rover, Kluge drives me around rows of neatly tied vines; on the back seat rides Basil, her mellow yellow Lab. Basil has a doggie biscuit dedicated to him in the estate's patisserie—a perfect souvenir for Diva.
Backtracking north on Route 15, we head toward James Madison's Montpelier estate and the Orange County Fair, held every summer on the estate grounds. Kids pedal miniature Kubota tractors, heritage Nankin Bantam chickens occupy musky 4-H paddocks, and blue ribbons are awarded for prize tomatoes. To big applause, a teenager leads her Jersey around the Cow Obstacle Course in record time. Slurping lemonade, Bronson and I watch two farmers in dirt-encrusted jeans walk past. One is hugging a sleeping puppy to his chest and I overhear him say, "He's the last dad-gum one they had. Only had 'im two days and I'm already 'tached to 'im."
Our final destination—a hot-weather tubing expedition on the James River—takes us along the James River Road, a scenic hilly byway once favored by colonial-era drovers herding cattle to market. Turns out I'm not the only one stirred by this rural beauty. Novelists John Grisham and Jan Karon are recent transplants. Dave Matthews just purchased a gorgeous tract in the Charlottesville area. En route to the river, I admire the musician's open fields and hope to holy hell they stay that way.
Oops. Clink.
2. Kansas
MILES: 100, DRIVING TIME: Half a day
A virgin patch of wildflower-dotted prairie survives in a part of Kansas where rocky outcrops made plowing difficult. From I-70 in Manhattan, in the northeastern part of the state, head south on 177. At first, the road swerves around and over limestone bluffs, but when you reach El Dorado and I-35, you'll be on the plains. Fans of wide-open spaces shouldn't miss the more than 10,000 acres of undisturbed land at the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve (620/273-8494; www.nps.gov/tapr), two miles north of Strong City.
3. Iowa
MILES: 120, DRIVING TIME: With twisting roads and lots of stops, give it a day.
Rugged, hilly, and forested—that's why the northeastern edge of Iowa is nicknamed Little Switzerland. Start in Dubuque, where the National Mississippi River Museum & Aquarium (800/226-3369; www.mississippirivermuseum.com) has the world's largest steam towboat as well as five huge tanks that offer close encounters with denizens of the deep. Then head north, keeping the river on your right. Small roads take you past locks and dams, ferry landings, backwoods communities, and Pikes Peak State Park (563/873-2341; www.exploreiowaparks.com), at 500 feet one of the highest points along the entire Mississippi River.
4. Washington
MILES: 85, DRIVING TIME: One day
Island hopping makes this short trip deliciously slow. Take the ferry (888/808-7977; www.wsdot.wa.gov/ferries) from Edmonds, north of Seattle, to Kingston; then follow 104 and U.S. 101 to Sequim, a lavender-growing center that's the sunniest spot in western Washington. Along the way, browse roadside farm stands for lavender products. Continue to Port Angeles, then hop the ferry to English-accented Victoria, British Columbia, for afternoon tea—or an overnight stay—at the Fairmont Empress (866/540-4429; www.fairmont.com/empress; tea from $18, doubles from $120).
5. Utah
MILES: 310, DRIVING TIME: Two days
Allow yourself plenty of time for this ramble amid the russet gorges and spires of southern Utah. After leaving I-70 near Green River, drive southwest on 24 through Capitol Reef National Park, then south on 12. The road climbs 9,200 feet up Boulder Mountain en route to the multicolored badlands of Bryce Canyon National Park (435/834-5322; www.nps.gov/brca). Spend the night at rustic Bryce Canyon Lodge (888/297-2757; www.brycecanyonlodge.com; doubles from $115), built in the 1920's of sandstone and ponderosa pine. The next day, continue south and west on U.S. 89 to 9, through Zion National Park, to I-15.
6. Mississippi
MILES: 210, DRIVING TIME: One day
It's less than 250 miles from Memphis to Jackson, Mississippi, via U.S. 61 and U.S. 49, but plan for plenty of stops to savor the down-home cuisine of the Mississippi Delta. Unassuming eateries all along the route serve up barbecue, catfish, and the classic Southern meat-and-three supper; stop for lunch at the Blue & White Restaurant (1355 Hwy. 61 N., Tunica; 662/363-1371; lunch buffet for two $13). Stay at the sumptuous Alluvian Hotel (866/600-5201; www.thealluvian.com; doubles from $175).
7. Florida
MILES: 200, DRIVING TIME: Two days
U.S. 98, from south of Tallahassee, west to Pensacola, is the last long stretch of Florida coast where sea views are virtually uninterrupted by high-rises. Loop onto 30A to explore the New Urbanist prototype town of Seaside—an outdoor museum of great architecture and planning. Spend the night at the WaterColor Inn (866/426-2656; www.watercolorinn.com; doubles from $265) and finish the drive in the morning.
8. North Carolina
MILES: 110, DRIVING TIME: One day
Discover backwoods and sand hills on this trip through the North Carolina heartland. Head south from Greensboro on U.S. 220 until you reach the town of Ashgrove and scenic byway 705. It's 40 miles to Seagrove, a historic pottery-making community; there are still 80 working potteries to shop in. From there, take tiny 705, then go on 24 east to Fayetteville, past dreamy-sounding towns like Whispering Pines and Whynot.
9. Michigan
MILES: 125, DRIVING TIME: One day
The western shore of Michigan has lighthouses and old beach towns, orchards and vineyards, dramatic bluffs with lake vistas. From Ludington (the terminus of a ferry from Wisconsin), go north on U.S. 31 to Manistee, where a logging boom left an exuberant Victorian architectural legacy. From there, follow 22 north along the shore. At Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore (231/326-5134; www.nps.gov/slbe) one of the sand hills rises 460 feet above the lake; few can resist climbing the dunes for the views—and sliding down afterward.
10. New York
MILES: 45, DRIVING TIME: One day
Luminous vistas of New York's Hudson River inspired a 19th-century school of painting and drew the era's gilderati to build palatial estates. How long you spend on the 45-mile drive north from Beacon to Hudson, via U.S. 9 and local 9G, depends on how many sites you tour. Highlights include the 54-room Neoclassical Vanderbilt mansion, FDR's Georgian-style Springwood, and painter Frederic Edwin Church's Persian fantasy Olana. Treat yourself to lunch at American Bounty Restaurant in Hyde Park (845/471-6608; www.ciachef.edu; lunch for two from $50). Operated by the Culinary Institute of America, it specializes in local ingredients.