8 Fantastic Fall Road Trips

Fairbanks to Anchorage, Alaska

A road trip with my husband from Fairbanks, Alaska, down through the Kenai Peninsula and on to Anchorage in late August 2017 changed my life in ways I could never have imagined. It fostered a love for a place so different from the rest of the U.S. and so far away from home.

Although my husband had traveled to Alaska several times before, this was my first trip to the state known as the Great Land. During our 10-day adventure, I was overcome by the boundless beauty and wilderness. We drove along extensive stretches of nearly empty roads, flew across remote lands and stopped at almost every turn to take photos.

I had never seen fall’s brilliant colors, which show up in mid- to late August in Alaska, set against rugged, mountainous landscapes like these, some still snowcapped from the previous winter. A kaleidoscope of colors was painted across the valleys and tundra, from yellows and golds to reds and purples.

I also learned that a fall trip to Alaska brings much more than autumn colors and a brisk chill in the air. During our trip, we discovered the rapid change in seasons from summer to fall, along with early closures of major attractions, lodges and outfitters visited in the last few days of their summer season. We also had the opportunity to view the northern lights, one of the highlights of our trip.

In the early-morning hours in Fairbanks and in the small village of Copper Center, we were treated to magical displays of the aurora borealis dancing across the clear night sky. It was early in the aurora season in Fairbanks, which extends from Aug. 21 to April, but the stars seemed to align for us to witness the phenomenon for the first time during our last night in Fairbanks and again as we headed toward Anchorage.

In Alaska, “road trips” frequently involve bush planes, helicopters, ferries or boats to reach remote destinations, as most of the state’s communities are inaccessible by road. From Copper Center, we flew by small plane to the small village of McCarthy, located outside Kennicott.

We were mesmerized by the scenery during the flight as we flew through the mountains and over glaciers into Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and Preserve, the largest national park in the U.S., to visit the Kennicott Glacier Lodge.

Hiking the Root Glacier, one of the few that are easily accessible in Alaska, was another first. We strapped on crampons, traction devices you attach to your hiking boots to walk on ice and snow, and set out for a 4-mile round-trip hike to see the eerily blue ice caverns. I also explored the Kennecott Copper Mine, which ceased operations in 1938 and became a National Historic Landmark in 1986.

The Alaska Marine Highway from Valdez to Whittier was another off-road side trip. We took the ferry ride aboard MV Aurora with the car across the rainy, foggy and very choppy Prince William Sound. It was not a perfect sunny fall day, but we were still able to view some of the marine life, including a few whales, sea otters and Steller sea lions perched along the rocky coastline. After disembarking, we hit our last stretch of roadway by car from Whittier, which afforded impressive views of the Chugach Mountains and Turnagain Arm along the Seward Highway en route to Anchorage.

My road trip to Alaska in 2017 inspired a fascination with and love for the state, resulting in many return trips during every season. After these visits and gaining an appreciation for this special place, I can see myself living there — and have an undeniable connection to this great land, its natural beauty and the people who call Alaska home.

Gwen Pratesi is a James Beard Award finalist in journalism and an award-winning travel journalist based in Florida. Her work appears in many publications, including U.S. News & World Report, The Points Guy, Cruise Critic, Travel + Leisure, Garden & Gun, Frommer’s and others.

Boston to Brownsville, Vermont

Last fall, when I told my two children, then 7 and 9, that we’d be taking a trip up north to see the leaves change color, my daughter said, “Can we jump in a really big pile of leaves?” Her brother, always one to bargain, offered to help rake the pile if he could jump first. The only fall foliage they’d seen, growing up in Florida, had been construction paper leaves they’d cut out for art projects at school. I grew up in Northern Virginia with plenty of pumpkin patches and hayrides, and I wanted them to experience the cozy feeling of a real fall day too.

We flew from Tampa to Boston, then rented a car to drive northwest from the city. We stopped at Carter Hill Orchard in Concord, New Hampshire, to pick apples for the first time. That’s also where we all got to try hot apple cider donuts (a revelation we still talk about, and promise ourselves we’ll learn to make, nearly a year later). When we made it to central Vermont and the Green Mountains less than an hour and a half later, the sugar maples, birches and quaking aspens painted the hillsides in 50 shades of gold. As soon as we’d checked into our room at Holiday Inn Club Vacations Mount Ascutney Resort — a cozy time-share popular with skiers come winter, with full-kitchen suites and an indoor pool — we headed straight back outside to find that pile of leaves for our fall frolic.

We had only a weekend to make the most of our autumn foray. And we spent as much of it as possible outside in the refreshing fall air. It was such a welcome break from home, where the heat was lingering well into October, promising another sweaty Halloween.

At Quechee State Park, we hiked through forests shimmering with yellow to reach the state’s deepest gorge, Vermont’s answer to the Grand Canyon, which is cut through by the chilly Ottauquechee River. After we made it to the bottom (and before it dawned on the kids that we’d be hiking back uphill), we took off our shoes and dipped our feet into the rushing water to feel its refreshing embrace. As a reward for making it back to the parking lot, there were more apple cider donuts to enjoy from a nearby market.

The trees were awash in an autumnal glow at the Vermont Institute of Natural Science where we got a bird’s-eye view of the forest canopy from a boardwalk up to 100 feet above the ground. Then we admired the fierce beaks and sharp eyes of orphaned and injured raptors being nursed back to health at the institute’s bird rehab center.

On the drive back to Boston the next day, it rained cats and dogs, and more leaves fell all around us. The temperatures had dipped into the lower 40s, and it was clear winter was coming soon. Filled up on autumn vibes (and one last round of apple cider donuts for the road), we were headed back to the Sunshine State fully satiated from our New England fall fix.

Terry Ward is a contributing writer who covers food, drink and travel. Her work has appeared in National Geographic Traveler and The Washington Post and on CNN. ​​​​

Lake Tahoe scenic drive, Lake Tahoe, California

Years ago, on a crisp October afternoon near Lake Tahoe, North America’s largest alpine lake, I witnessed a true wonder. 

Flame-red kokanee, a landlocked variety of sockeye salmon, were returning from Tahoe to Taylor Creek, where they were born. Watching them struggle upstream, I knew that eagles and merganser ducks would eat some before they reached their goal. Others would complete the journey, spawn and — exhausted, their life cycle done — dissolve back into the waters from which they first emerged.

Something about that autumn afternoon — the mysterious force impelling the fish onward, the honey-thick light bathing Tahoe and its ring of soaring peaks, the way the aspens shimmied like dancers covered in a thousand gold coins — touched me deeply. After more than 50 years of visiting Lake Tahoe in all seasons, it remains a lasting memory from a favorite fall road trip destination, a 3½-hour straight shot on Interstate 80 from my San Francisco home.

Autumn is a quiet time around Lake Tahoe, the surface of which sits about 6,223 feet above sea level, straddling the California-Nevada state line. The sun-and-sand crowds of summer are gone, and you can almost hear a clock ticking down to the first snows of late November, when skiers and boarders start to arrive en masse for the winter-spring fun.

Even leaf peepers are scarce, most of them preferring more colorful destinations than Tahoe’s vast basin, which is largely covered in evergreen forest dotted here and there with aspen stands. Lodging and restaurants are easy to book, and traffic thins on the scenic drive around Tahoe, a stunning, 72-mile succession of sweeping mountain-and-lake vistas and peekaboo water views through the trees. The world temporarily forgets about Tahoe, and that’s fine by me.

Tahoe’s daytime air temperature begins its slow slide from the 70s into the 40s as the season progresses. I love the softly popping fires that make chilly, starry nights cozy, as well as the lumberjack-size breakfasts of a smoked salmon omelet or buckwheat pancakes from the homey Fire Sign Cafe to fuel a long hike or bike ride around town.

On the occasional rainy day, I love to study the exquisite work of early 20th-century Washoe weavers of the Marion Steinbach Native American Basket Collection, located at the Gatekeepers Museum. Or the Lake Tahoe History Museum’s funky collection of gambling memorabilia, a nod to the casinos that still flourish on the northern and southern ends of the lake’s Nevada side.

During one of my most memorable trips, on a late October afternoon a few years before I witnessed the stirring return of the kokanee, I drove a near-empty Highway 89 along Tahoe’s west shore to Ed Z’berg Sugar Pine Point State Park.

There, while walking through fragrant pine forest, I came upon aspens that had recently shed all their leaves, paving the trail with gold. It was a startling, beautiful sight but, more than that, a reminder that autumn in the high country is fleeting. Catch it while you can, before winter roars in, and like the last notes of a soulful cello sonata, hold its feel close.

San Francisco journalist Christopher Hall has covered cultural topics for a wide variety of national publications, including Smithsonian, Architectural Digest, National Geographic Traveler, Saveur and The New York Times.