In years past, Six Flags Magic Mountain's annual Halloween celebration isolated the monsters and ghouls to certain areas of the amusement park while keeping other parts, such as the kid-centric Bugs Bunny World, as a scare-free sanctuary for parkgoers who wanted no part of what the Southern California park calls Fright Fest. Those safe zones are gone this year. During the 19-night Fright Fest, the entire park in Santa Clarita is turned over to costumed maniacs, bloodsuckers and creeps. Even Bugs Bunny World goes dark.

Disney has extended its Military Salute Tickets to include Department of Defense civilian and full-time military contractors. The tickets were previously been limited to active duty and retired military personnel only.

The Detroit museum that hosted Aretha Franklin’s public visitations after her death is again holding space for her — this time with an exhibit featuring photographs, videos and the red shoes she wore at the first funeral viewing that drew global attention.

There are hundreds of railroad museums and scenic train rides all across the United States. Many of them offer the opportunity to "step back in time" or "relive yesteryear." But few deliver on that promise quite like the Cumbres & Toltec Scenic Railroad -- a 64-mile, narrow-gauge route across the rugged San Juan Mountains of New Mexico and Colorado that has gone nearly unchanged since the last freight train rumbled over Cumbres Pass 50 years ago.

With the cruising industry booming across the globe, officials in Duluth, Minn., are betting that someday soon their ships will come in, too.

In Las Vegas, the ultimate sand trap-turned-capital of capitalism, there’s no better byword for sophistication than the Cosmopolitan. Its 20-plus suites, known as the Boulevard Penthouses, are the most coveted rooms in town, largely because they’re priceless. The only way in is by invitation, which means fronting over a million dollars (and preferably two) at the Reserve, the hotel’s private, three-room casino on the 75th floor. It’s a gaming experience so exclusive that not even James Bond could charm his way through the door.

The family stepped warily onto Bourbon Street and hurried past a burlesque joint, an absinthe bar and neon signs touting "Leather Lingerie Love Toys" and "Hunk Oasis Male Strippers." Heather and Chad Bruton, a clean-cut couple from Texas, didn't want to visit this historic city for the first time without witnessing its famed promenade of debauchery. But with three young children in tow, they didn't want to see too much. "How come that guy died on the street?" 3-year-old Cooper said as he spotted a barefoot man passed out on a sidewalk. It was still well before noon, and the air reeked of stale beer, grease, vomit and bleach.

As airport time killers, cocktails will never lose their most-favored status. But the race for novel concessions inside the terminal is becoming more, well, playful. Especially when it comes to mollifying less-than-happy passengers.

Universal Orlando Resort is offering active-duty and retired troops and their families a four-for-one deal through the rest of the year.

Founded a little over 200 years ago as America's first settlement in the West, this port city finds itself buoyed these days by a tourist-fueled revival. Yet history lingers here, palpable and powerful, just a two-hour drive from the state's metropolitan center of Portland.

Navy veterans Mike Whiteside and Robert Kulp started salvaging together in 1999 and opened shop as Black Dog Salvage later that year. Their warehouses in Virginia have become bucket-list destinations for fans of "Salvage Dawgs." Now, those fans have a place to stay.

Portland may have a reputation for putting birds on things and performative quirkiness, but, as with most things, the reality is a lot more complicated. That's a good thing, and it should be the guiding principle for your next visit to the city.

Few places remain where you can witness American bison roaming fenceless in their native habitat. Yellowstone National Park is such a destination, with more than 4 million visitors a year and bumper-to-bison traffic through summer. The American Prairie Reserve is a lesser-known site, a bit more off the beaten path, but utterly immense in its scope and vision.

From Banana Boat to Coppertone, major sunscreen brands will soon have to revamp their products or stop selling them in Hawaii. State lawmakers passed legislation in May that would ban skin-care companies from selling and distributing sunscreens on the islands that contain two chemicals deemed damaging to coral reefs. The bill is opposed by various companies and business associations and even some dermatologists, who worry that the ban may discourage people from wearing sunscreen at all.

A prudent first consideration when trying to understand Seattle is that it is not Athens, Rome or, for that matter, Stratford-upon-Avon. Although Seattle remains heavily European in population and influence, it doesn't completely fit a classical definition of what is Western; in fact, it doesn't quite fit any classical definition. It is, in a word, "whatever," in the very contemporary use of that word to mean, "If that works for you, I'm OK with it."

Children are welcome at Iron Stone Acres, the bed-and-breakfast that Sharon Zimmerman has been running for nearly 30 years in rural Narvon, Pa., but they'll need to entertain themselves. The Mennonite-owned dairy farm has no internet connection and no TVs, and you'll have to head into town to find a newspaper. The severed connection to technology in favor of the farm's peace and quiet is exactly what draws many of Zimmerman's visitors.

The National Museum of the United States Navy is free and open to the public, but it's on the Washington Navy Yard - a military base that intentionally deters casual visitors.

Every paddle stroke sprinkled water drops, reflecting the setting sun like sparklers across the black, glacier-carved lake. Just a few hours earlier, I had been portaging on an ankle-deep muddy trail with that 55-pound canoe balanced over my head, shielding me from a chilly downpour. That contrast is the essence of the wilderness experience in Minnesota’s Boundary Waters. The physical effort required to explore its off-the-grid remoteness — including carrying a canoe solo on slippery, rocky trails — makes every worry evaporate like steam off woolen socks strung over a campfire.

SeaWorld officials have announced United States military veterans and up to three guests will receive free admission to its theme parks through July 4. Veterans will be able to gain free tickets to SeaWorld Orlando, SeaWorld San Antonio and SeaWorld San Diego by redeeming admission through the Waves of Honor website.

Like most hikes and drives in south-central Utah, Lower Muley Twist Canyon is both heavenly and hellish for someone curious about what's around the next corner - and I definitely am. It's possible to hike down the canyon, in Capitol Reef National Park, for 12 miles and turn at least three times as many corners.

The Las Vegas you know and love (or hate) is in the midst of a reinvention. The convention center is being overhauled and expanded at a cost of $1.4 billion, and hotel mainstays, from the Palms to Caesars, are getting nine-figure renovations.

As if New Orleans needed to give visitors another reason to party, the city celebrates its 300th birthday this year. That means non-stop tricentennial events, parades, exhibits and more on top of the Big Easy's already packed calendar. America's most unique city draws tourists for its culture, food, cocktails and festivals -- and keeps them coming back by embracing its rich history while continuing to evolve.

There's a fine line between alligators and crocodiles. At Gatorama, a roadside attraction in Palmdale, Fla., off U.S. Highway 27, that line is a boardwalk.

On my latest trip to Chicago, I consumed nine tacos, three doughnuts, an Indian crepe, a giant tamale, a mound of carnitas, a bowl of pasta and a table full of Vietnamese food. How did I not gain 15 pounds? Well, I also walked 8 to 10 miles per day -- which is typical for me when I travel.

While the photos and videos of the popping, churning, spewing lava from Kilauea volcano look post-apocalyptic, officials with the Island of Hawaii Visitors Bureau say that the danger zones are isolated to private, residential areas and they don’t expect an impact on travelers. "Really, almost 90 percent of the island is unaffected," says Ross Birch, executive director of the Hawaii Island Visitors and Convention Bureau.

We’re standing in front of the painting "Black Cross, New Mexico" by Georgia O’Keeffe at the Art Institute of Chicago when our animated tour guide, Jessamyn Fitzpatrick, asks what O’Keeffe is known for. One woman in our group of eight says flowers. Another pipes up with the female anatomy. Fitzpatrick nods to both and smiles.

Most likely, you have been to a UNESCO World Heritage site in the United States without knowing it. Remember that Griswoldian summer vacation to the Grand Canyon? The high school field trip to Independence Hall in Philadelphia? The college tour of the University of Virginia? Congratulations! That’s three in your pocket. But don’t stop now. You can collect all 23, intentionally or accidentally.

Washington is known for its museums. But venture beyond the Mall, which is home to four of the 20 most-visited museums in the world, and you'll find plenty of smaller, quirkier institutions.

Where were they? The hour was closer to midnight than noon, and the sky above the small Alaskan town of Talkeetna was as black as a bear’s button nose. Several stars twinkled their encouragement. Before stepping out in the minus-numbing-degree air, I had checked the Aurora Forecast. The rating was a 5, which the Geophysical Institute described as meaning “Auroral activity will be high.” I had even brought along my lucky charm, Aurora Dora. So I ask again: Where were they?

In the low-lit, second-floor room of Washington’s Renwick Gallery, a cluster of three ceiling-height plastic mushrooms glows in a shifting kaleidoscope of neon colors. At each mushrooms’ base is a pad that users can press, causing the sculptures to heave, sigh, and expand in and out. The installation, "Shrumen Lumen" by the FoldHaus Art Collective, was initially on view under the night sky at Burning Man, a weeklong annual festival in the Nevada desert that celebrates the various joys of communal living, 24-hour dance parties, public art, provocative costumes, substance use and a potpourri of spiritualties.

I was on the hunt for the perfect souvenir. Standing over a collection of gorgeous specimens, I knew just what I was looking for: something smooth and flawless. I wasn't perusing a high-end boutique or rifling through antiques; I was staring into a bin of beautiful avocados. And for less than a dollar apiece? I couldn't think of anything I'd rather bring home from California.

It’s the photo every tourist visiting Seattle has to have: the gum-wall selfie. The quirky oddity at Pike Place Market, for years just 15 feet wide, has turned into a canyon of chewing gum. On a sunny weekend day, hundreds of people can be found crammed into Post Alley — chewing gum, blowing bubbles and documenting the entire experience.

You've taken off your shoes and removed your laptop from your carry-on bag to go through airport security screening. You candy bar may be next.

I knew Patrick Henry gave the famous "Give me liberty or give me death!" speech -- but that’s all I knew. Curious about this hero of the American Revolution, my wife, Carol, and I traveled to Richmond, Virginia, and nearby Hanover County to visit several historical sites associated with the fiery Virginia orator. Using the "Road to Revolution Heritage Trail" website - one of 13 Virginia State Heritage Trail guides - we curated our own Henry history tour.

Jim Fox dreads flying. With good reason. At 6-feet-10, the former NBA player has to squeeze himself into economy class seats, which isn’t always possible.

When I saw the news a year ago that Six Flags Over Texas and Samsung were teaming up to bring a new virtual reality roller coaster experience, I wasn't exactly rushing to be the first in line. In fact, I was pretty sure I wouldn't like it. I was wrong.

"You clearly love Sacramento," says the Catholic nun and high school principal as she looks over the college essay written by one of her students. The teenager, who clearly thinks the city is uncool, shrugs and says she just pays attention to her surroundings. "Well, it comes across as love," says the nun. "Don't you think maybe they are the same thing, love and attention?"

New York is a city I've always had something of a love/hate relationship with. First the hate: the noise level, which most Manhattanites seem not to notice, has me ready to chew off my own ears after a day or two -- the incessant drilling of jackhammers; cabbies sitting on their horns even when it's obvious they are going nowhere fast, and angry babel from multilinguals resulting from seemingly inane disagreements.

I took a breath, buried my pride and slid the $20 bill across the counter, suggestively. "Are there any complimentary upgrades available?" I asked the woman working the check-in at the Luxor Hotel & Casino on the Las Vegas Strip. I was in town for four nights and on a mission to live it up in Las Vegas while keeping my bank account in check -- so I'd packaged my flight and hotel, chosen the cheapest room available and hoped for a little of that Sin City sleaze to make my stay a little more lavish. Simple bribery? Unabashed passing of the cash? I'd heard that worked. Sometimes, anyway.

Trip-planning multiple choice: a) Mountains b) Sand c) Surf d) Factories. If you picked the last vacation option, you've got company.

Years before #vanlife took on a life of its own across social media in the United States, Bill Staggs was onto something. He had fond memories, dating to his late-1950s childhood, of family trips in a Volkswagen van. In the early 2000s, he started thinking that others might like to dip their toes into that nomadic lifestyle, chugging along behind the wheel of a rented classic vehicle with a cult following.

Some of us might have gotten a good chuckle when a woman tried to bring her "emotional support peacock" on a flight. All humor aside, however, the incident served to reveal an elephant in the cabin and a far more complicated debate about how airlines treat animals, disabled passengers and those who abuse either.

U.S. Route 36 stretches for 200 miles across the flat farmland of northern Missouri, connecting Kansas to Illinois. The route is called "The Way of American Genius" because some of the nation's best-known innovators, creative minds and a military hero spent parts of their childhood near towns along the route. For ages, Chillicothe, a town of 9, 500 along the route, felt left out. As far as anyone knew, nothing had been invented there of equal stature.

Concho wants to gallop. I can tell. He's a horse, after all, a headstrong one, and rippling green hills spread in every direction. Every so often, a break in the clouds reveals the barren summit of Mauna Kea to the south. But galloping is still a little ways outside my skill set, so with a twinge of guilt I pull the reins to keep my mount at a slow trot. He makes his disappointment clear with a snort and a toss of his head. The pace does make it easier to soak in the landscape of the 300-acre Dahana Ranch in the upcountry of Hawaii's Big Island.

Chris Morano settled into the pillow-strewn bench in the lobby of the Sandman, surprisingly relaxed after all he has been through. Behind him, singed shrubs appeared through the hotel window. Near the swimming pool, a concrete wall bore the black eye of a fireball. On the coffee table, by his knees, sat the most recent issue of Sonoma Magazine, which was dedicated to the October wildfires in Northern California. The cover featured a first responder standing on a mountain engulfed in flames. The headline read, "The Fight of Our Lives. What Happened and What's Next." "How we escaped the devastation is beyond me," said Chris, the hotel's front office manager and chief concierge. "Mr. Sandman was watching over us."

One of the most luxurious lodges in Alaska, and one of the most remote anywhere, has just opened on a rocky glacier outcropping, or nunatak, smack in the middle of Denali National Park. From its wraparound windows, the resort’s guests -- a maximum of 10 at any given time -- can watch the aurora borealis dance around the sky or survey an endless horizon of jagged peaks blanketed in untouched snow. The only thing between them and the nearest summit is a sheer vertical rock wall that’s twice the height of Dubai’s Burj Khalifa skyscraper.

With a weekend on my hands, music on my mind, and a city on the verge of celebrating its tricentennial, I couldn't think of a better time to visit the birthplace of jazz. "Honey, pack your bags. We're going to New Orleans!"

Among the stops on a German travel writer's tour of the Connecticut coast was the world’s first nuclear submarine, the USS Nautilus, which is the main attraction of the Submarine Force Museum, along with Mystic Seaport and the PEZ candy factory.

"Where are the shrunken heads?" Any day you get to ask that question is a good day. When the answer could easily be "Go right at the orangutan’s brain, and they’re just past the leper’s leg," that’s the best day, because that means you’re at the Mutter Museum of the College of Physicians of Philadelphia.