159. Skip D.C.: Better Luxury Trips to Celebrate America’s 250th Birthday

America’s 250th birthday is not a regular Fourth of July, and the difference between a crowded trip and a once in a lifetime memory comes down to where you choose to show up. In this episode, I’m sharing where to go for the Semiquincentennial, plus the VIP ways to experience each stop. You’ll learn which under-credited city was already winning battles before the Declaration was signed, how to get the best on-the-water fireworks views without fighting the crowds, and what to consider when you want luxury travel touches on a trip that is more about story than spectacle. 

Previous Episodes Mentioned:

• 65. The Top July 4th Fireworks Spectacles Across America
• 114. 4th of July Fireworks: Unique Luxury Travel Spots Across the United States
• 151. Paris Was Perfect… Then This Tauck River Cruise Ruined It (Luxury Travel Epic Fail)
• 152. Luxury Travel Escapes for an Unforgettable Mother's Day Getaway

Connect with Michele on IG: @jetsettingwithmichele or on Facebook: www.facebook.com/groups/MMTinsiders

Contact Michele to plan your next vacation: www.makinmemoriestravel.co/contact

This episode was produced by The Podcast Teacher: www.ThePodcastTeacher.com. 

Transcript

159. America’s 250th Birthday — How to Celebrate in Style (Without Elbowing Strangers on the National Mall)

Opening

Welcome back to another episode of Jet Setting with Me. It’s me, Michele, your friendly wanderlust instigator.

For me, July 4th has never been just a holiday. My parents were married on the Fourth of July, which meant that from the very beginning, this day carried a little extra weight in our house — part Independence Day, part anniversary, entirely ours.

My earliest memories of it involve being piled into the back of a station wagon — and I mean the way back, the part that faced the wrong direction, that kids today will never know and honestly missed out on — with a tub of popcorn the size of a small country and whatever drinks we could balance on our laps, watching fireworks light up the sky through the rear window. It was chaotic and loud and absolutely perfect. The Griswold family had nothing on us.

As the years went on, it turned into an all-day affair at the house — friends, the grill going from noon until well after dark, everyone sitting by the pool until the sky was ready to put on its show. We’d watch the fireworks right from the patio. No traffic, no crowds, just the people you loved most and the kind of summer evening that feels like it should last forever.

And then life does what life does. My father passed away, and suddenly the holiday that had always felt like a celebration felt a little more tender. I find myself thinking about my mom — making sure she isn’t spending it alone, making sure the day still means something. Which is exactly why I’ve made it a priority to plan getaways where we can travel together as a family. Different location, same intention. The point was never the fireworks. It was always the people watching them with you.

A Note Before We Begin

Now, if you’ve been along for the ride for a while, you know that a July 4th episode is as much a tradition on this podcast as the holiday itself. Last year in Episode 114, we talked luxury fireworks — the most unique, off-the-radar spots to watch the sky light up across the country, from Martha’s Vineyard to Jackson Hole. And the year before that, we hit the heavy hitters: Boston, D.C., New York, Philadelphia. Both of those episodes are still very much worth sharing, and I’ll put the links in the show notes. But this year required something different. Because July 4th, 2026 isn’t just another Independence Day. It only comes around once every 250 years — and a fireworks guide, however luxurious, didn’t feel like enough. This episode is about where to actually be for America’s 250th, why those places matter, and how to experience this milestone in a way that lasts longer than the finale. So whether you’re sharing this one with a friend who’s already heard Episode 114, or you’re just joining us — welcome. This one’s worth your time.

The Semiquincentennial

Now, this July 4th isn’t just any Fourth. It’s America’s 250th birthday — the Semiquincentennial. And before you try to pronounce that at a dinner party, just know I’ve been practicing.

Two hundred and fifty years ago, fifty-six delegates signed a document that changed the course of history. If you’ve seen Hamilton — and if you haven’t, I need you to pause this podcast and go fix that immediately — you already know the story. The rooms where it happened were small. The ideas were enormous. And six days before that signing, a battle had already been won at a harbor in South Carolina that most people couldn’t find on a map.

The point is: American history didn’t only happen in Washington, D.C. It happened on coastlines and back roads and in courthouses and harbor forts across the entire country. And this year, a lot of those places are throwing a very long-overdue party.

Here’s the honest truth about where NOT to start your 250th birthday planning: Washington, D.C. is magnificent and I love it, but it is — as the official flagship of the national celebration — going to be at capacity. Same goes for Williamsburg, Virginia. If you haven’t already secured your Fourth of July arrangements in either of those cities, I’m sending you grace, a strong cocktail, and a very loving redirect.

Because the places I want to talk about today? They are historically rich, experientially extraordinary, and still have rooms. Let’s get into it.

Destination 1: Charleston, South Carolina

Let’s start in the South, with a city that doesn’t get nearly enough credit for its role in the American Revolution: Charleston, South Carolina. And just to set expectations — I’m not talking about the Charleston depicted in Southern Hospitality. We are putting the cocktails down and stepping considerably further back in time. All the way to 1776, to be exact.

Here’s the history lesson you didn’t get in school. On June 28, 1776 — six days before the Declaration of Independence was signed in Philadelphia — the Continental Army repelled the British Navy at Fort Moultrie in Charleston Harbor. It was one of the first decisive American victories of the entire war. While everyone was still arguing about what to put in the Declaration, Charleston was already out here defending it. That’s the kind of energy I respect.

But a complete visit to Charleston requires sitting with all of its history — not just the parts that fit neatly into a celebration. Nearly half of all enslaved Africans brought to the United States arrived through this city, most of them at Gadsden’s Wharf on the Cooper River. That ground is now home to the International African American Museum — the IAAM — which opened in 2023 after more than twenty years in the making. The building sits 13 feet above the wharf on a series of columns, deliberately designed not to touch the ground beneath it — because the people who built it understood they were standing on sacred soil. It’s estimated that up to 90 percent of African Americans today can trace at least one ancestor to Charleston. The Gullah Geechee culture woven through this city’s food, language, and traditions is the living legacy of those who survived. And Charleston, to its credit, has been doing the harder work — in 2018, the city council formally apologized for Charleston’s role in slavery. These aren’t footnotes to the American story we’re celebrating this year. They are the American story.

Charleston is also celebrating its own 350th anniversary in 2026, which means the programming is layered — Revolutionary War heritage woven through a city that is already extraordinary on its own terms. Think cobblestone streets lined with antebellum architecture and a pace of life that feels like someone turned the clock back in the best possible way. And the food scene — Charleston’s culinary culture has become one of the most exciting in the country, which should surprise no one who remembers that this city was home to Top Chef Season 14. The show didn’t choose Charleston by accident. From Lowcountry classics rooted in Gullah Geechee tradition to the kind of chef-driven dining that earns national attention, this is a city you travel to with your taste buds fully engaged. The city has also created a dedicated four-day Revolutionary War 250th package: historic homes, churches, a former prisoner-of-war dungeon, and a harbor tour to Fort Moultrie. That sunset harbor tour, by the way, is the kind of experience that puts you inside history rather than outside looking at it.

On the luxury side, Charleston delivers. The Dewberry, Zero George Street, Belmond Charleston Place — all worth your consideration and all still showing availability for the summer. A private harbor tour at sunset is the VIP enhancement that no booking engine will surface for you, but your travel advisor absolutely can.

Charleston holds a special place in my story. My first-ever ASTA conference — the American Society of Travel Advisors — was held right here, and because it was a smaller regional event, it was easy to meet people. Which matters, because the right people can change everything.

At the time, Mr. Jet Setting with Me thought this was a hobby. Sweet. Incorrect, but sweet.

A married couple of fellow advisors invited us to dinner one evening. We walked from our hotel across a pedestrian bridge over the river into the historic district — one of those small, quietly magical details that makes Charleston unlike any other conference city — and by the end of that meal, my husband understood this was a real career. That couple, who live in San Francisco, are two of my closest friends in the industry to this day. We’ve traveled together, eaten well at conferences around the world, and I’ll see them again in March 2027 at the ASTA River Cruise expo in Amsterdam — one of my favorite cities, as I talked about in Episode 151.

This is what I Know Because I Go means. Conferences like that one aren’t just professional development. They’re where the knowledge and the relationships are built.

And one afternoon during that same conference, we visited Fort Moultrie — which, as I mentioned, was the site of that decisive 1776 victory. What the history books don’t always tell you is that Fort Moultrie also played a significant role in the Civil War. Standing there means standing at the intersection of two defining chapters of American history. It’s the kind of place that earns its silence.

Destination 2: New York Harbor

Now let’s head north, to the city that has never once in its history failed to show up for a big moment: New York.

Here’s the thing about New York City — it has a way of showing up when it counts. I know this from personal experience, because the first time I really understood what this city was capable of, I was standing in New York Harbor in the summer of 1986.

My parents took me to Liberty Weekend — the celebration marking the Statue of Liberty’s 100th anniversary and the completion of her two-year, $66 million restoration. On July 4th, we watched Operation Sail ‘86: a parade of tall ships moving through the harbor, followed by what was, at the time, the largest fireworks display in American history. Even as a kid, I understood I was watching something that wouldn’t come around again for a very long time.

But here’s my other New York Harbor memory, from an even earlier visit — one that lives rent-free in my head for entirely different reasons. My parents took me to the Statue of Liberty, and we climbed to the crown. Which sounds magnificent until I tell you that “climbing to the crown” means a narrow spiral staircase that seems to go on forever, and if you make the mistake of looking down — which I absolutely did — you will question every decision that led you to that moment. I was terrified. My dad, in the way that dads do, made absolutely sure I made it to the top anyway.

And what did I get for my bravery? A few seconds. Because of the crowds, you kept moving. A brief peek out, a reminder that you were very, very high up, and then back down the spiral. I remember thinking: that was a long way to go for a glimpse.

No way would I ever do it again. The memories are fully intact from right here at sea level.

What I will do again? Watch tall ships in that harbor. Because this July, more than 60 historic tall ships from over 30 countries are sailing into New York Harbor for OpSail 2026 — and the Macy’s fireworks are celebrating their own 50th anniversary at the same time. Forty years after Liberty Weekend, the harbor is putting on another show. And this time, my feet are staying firmly on a yacht deck.

The week runs July 3rd through 9th. The Times Square Ball will drop eight times in one day — once for each American time zone — which adds a layer of spectacle that is uniquely, unapologetically New York. And for the history lovers: the original Declaration of Independence, with Thomas Jefferson’s own handwritten corrections, will be on display at the New York Public Library July 1st through 3rd. You won’t find that detail on a hotel booking site.

The luxury experience here is all about water access. Private yacht charters in the harbor, premium East River cruise tickets with fireworks views, rooftop hotel viewing packages at properties like 1 Hotel Brooklyn Bridge or The Knickerbocker. New York will be crowded — but it will be New York. And there is truly nothing else like it.

And while you’re in New York, I want to suggest you walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. Not because it’s on every tourist list — but because it’s one of the great American stories hiding in plain sight. The bridge opened May 24, 1883, right in the thick of the era that HBO’s The Gilded Age brings so vividly to life. If you’ve spent any time watching Bertha Russell claw her way up New York society one ballroom at a time, you already know this period. But here’s what the show can only hint at: the bridge was built largely because of a woman named Emily Warren Roebling. Her father-in-law John Roebling designed it and died before construction finished. Her husband Washington took over, then became so ill from working in the underwater foundations that he could barely leave his bedroom. So Emily learned engineering. She became the communication link between her incapacitated husband and the entire construction crew for over a decade. And on opening day in 1883, she was the first person to cross it — reportedly carrying a rooster in her lap as a symbol of victory. Because of course she did.

Walking that bridge today, with the harbor below you and the skyline pressing in on both sides, feels like the whole arc of American ambition compressed into a mile. And for Gilded Age devotees, the filming locations around Manhattan and the Hudson Valley — Central Park’s Bethesda Terrace, the grand Hudson River mansions — turn the entire New York trip into a set-jetting experience before your 2027 group trip even begins. If you stay at 1 Hotel Brooklyn Bridge, you’ll have that view every single morning before you’ve had your coffee. There are worse ways to wake up in America. And for anyone whose love of New York was shaped by four women and a lot of Manolos — the Brooklyn Bridge is practically a Sex and the City character in its own right. Walking across it feels like the whole city is showing off.

Destination 3: Boston

If New York is where America celebrates, Boston is where America started.

A quick timeline worth knowing. The Boston Tea Party: December 16, 1773. Paul Revere’s midnight ride: April 18, 1775. The Battle of Bunker Hill: June 17, 1775. By the time Philadelphia got around to signing the Declaration in July of 1776, Boston had already been at war for over a year. The revolution didn’t begin in a drafting room. It began on a harbor and a battlefield, in the middle of the night, by lantern light.

For America’s 250th, Boston’s programming is extensive. Historical reenactments are planned throughout the summer, including a march retracing Paul Revere’s legendary ride. The Boston Tea Party Ships have special programming. The Freedom Trail — 2.5 miles of colonial history winding through the heart of the city — will have enhanced programming all season. And the Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular on the Esplanade on July 4th remains one of the great American traditions, full stop.

Luxury in Boston is underrated and worth knowing about. The Liberty Hotel — a converted 1851 jail, which is the most Boston thing imaginable and genuinely spectacular — still has summer availability. The Mandarin Oriental in Back Bay is polished and excellent. The Fairmont Copley Plaza is the grand dame of the city and never disappoints. Harbor dinner cruises with fireworks views are available and worth booking sooner rather than later.

My introduction to Boston came courtesy of one of the great pre-internet travel traditions: the AAA TripTik. For those who have never experienced the particular joy of a spiral-bound, custom-mapped travel guide that marked every covered bridge, every roadside curiosity, and every “world’s largest” something between Point A and Point B — I’m sorry. You missed something genuinely wonderful.

This was the summer before I started college, and the trip was my graduation present: a long road trip from Austin, Texas across the historical Eastern United States. I had fallen in love with American history in 11th grade — genuinely fallen in love, the way you do when a subject suddenly stops being a textbook and starts feeling like a story you’re living inside. My parents, it turned out, had been waiting for exactly this moment. My mother had been an American history teacher before I was born. My father was equally obsessed. The three of us sat down together and plotted the entire trip — no internet, no apps, just the TripTik, a stack of reference books, and two people who had been waiting their whole parenting lives to take this particular road trip.

Boston was a stop on the northward leg along the East Coast, and it was my first time in the city. We visited Faneuil Hall, we walked the Freedom Trail, and it was there — standing on those cobblestones, in the actual places where it happened — that I learned the real story of Paul Revere’s midnight ride. Not the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow version. Not “Listen, my children, and you shall hear.” The actual version.

Revere didn’t ride alone. He rode with a man named William Dawes, who took a different route. A third rider, Dr. Samuel Prescott, joined them outside Lexington — and when a British patrol intercepted all three of them, Prescott was the only one who escaped and actually made it to Concord. Revere also wouldn’t have shouted “The British are coming” — the colonists considered themselves British. What he likely said was “The Regulars are coming out.” The poem that gave us the legend wasn’t written until 1860 — eighty-six years after the ride — by a poet who wanted to stir patriotic sentiment on the eve of the Civil War. Paul Revere died in 1818, and his obituary didn’t even mention the midnight ride.

I stood there on the Freedom Trail at eighteen years old and thought: why don’t they teach us this? The real story is better. A network of riders, a covert mission, a poet who turned one man into a myth because his country needed a hero at a particular moment in history. That’s not a less interesting story. That’s a more interesting one.

Boston will do that to you. It has a way of making American history feel less like a monument and more like a conversation — one that isn’t finished yet. And if you drive twenty minutes north to Concord — the very town Dr. Prescott actually reached that night — you’re also standing in the same county where Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women. Orchard House, where the March sisters lived, is right there. For anyone who has ever loved that book, that particular afternoon writes itself.

Destination 4: Mount Rushmore, South Dakota

Now I want to take you somewhere that is about as far from the East Coast conversation as you can get — and I want you to hear me out: the Black Hills of South Dakota.

Mount Rushmore. Sixty feet of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Roosevelt, carved into granite between 1927 and 1941. It is one of those places you think you already know from photographs — and then you stand in front of it and realize the photographs have been lying to you about the scale.

Here’s the real situation for the 250th, and I’m going to give it to you straight. The ticketed fireworks show on July 3rd required winning a Recreation.gov lottery that ran in April. That lottery has already closed. I know. Take a breath. But the park is hosting non-ticketed public events on July 2nd and July 4th, including military concerts open to everyone. And in Rapid City, just 25 miles away, Main Street Square is hosting a free watch party for the July 3rd fireworks. You can still be in the Black Hills for this weekend and still have an extraordinary experience — it just looks a little different. This is exactly the kind of detail that makes the difference between a frustrating trip and a great one. And it’s exactly why you call a travel advisor before you search.

My Mount Rushmore memory involves my father, the station wagon, and the way back — which, as I mentioned at the top of this episode, was my personal domain on family road trips. Here’s the thing about the way back: it was wonderful right up until the moment someone needed to get you out of it in a hurry. My Dad reached in to pull me out so I could see Mount Rushmore in all her glory — and pulled my shoulder out of its socket. That part I remember clearly. What followed has been told to me so many times it feels like my own memory: my Dad, trusting his instincts, found what he was certain was a small town emergency room. He was worried, the way dads worry, that a rural ER wouldn’t have what we needed. The staff apparently found this hilarious. Bless them. They explained — patiently — that he had walked into the ER of a ski resort community, and that they set more bones there than most big city hospitals ever would. So yes. I have been to Mount Rushmore. I have a very specific memory of it. And the presidents were only part of the story.

The Black Hills offer a full luxury itinerary: boutique hotels in Rapid City, genuine glamping options, and private jeep tours through Badlands National Park. And for the set-jetting travelers in my audience — the actual town of Deadwood is 25 miles from Mount Rushmore and deserves its own conversation.

In the summer of 1876, a gunslinger named Wild Bill Hickok rode into Deadwood alongside a frontierswoman named Calamity Jane. He was shot from behind while playing poker just weeks later — holding two pairs: aces and eights, forever known as the Dead Man’s Hand. Calamity Jane outlived him by decades, returned to Deadwood to visit his grave, and died shortly after. She was buried right next to him at Mount Moriah Cemetery. Some say it was her dying wish. Others say it was a posthumous joke by friends, since Wild Bill reportedly had no use for her when he was alive. Either way, they have been side by side on that hill ever since.

HBO’s Deadwood brought all of this back into the cultural conversation, and the real town is every bit as atmospheric as the show. Saloon No. 10 — where Wild Bill was shot — still stands on Main Street and runs reenactments. Mount Moriah Cemetery sits on a ridge above town with a view of the historic district below. Visitors still leave bullets, pennies, and shot glasses on the graves. This is the full, unvarnished American story — and it pairs beautifully with Mount Rushmore for anyone who wants more than the postcard version.

Destination 5: Route 66

And finally — the one that might be the most distinctly American of all five.

Route 66 turns 100 this year. America turns 250. And the road that John Steinbeck called “the Mother Road” in The Grapes of Wrath — the highway that carried a generation of Americans west through the Dust Bowl, that became the symbol of freedom, reinvention, and the open road — is throwing a birthday party of its own.

Established November 11, 1926, Route 66 stretches 2,400 miles across eight states from Chicago to Santa Monica. If you learned everything you know about it from a Disney movie — which, same — the real thing is even better. The neon-lit diners, the quirky roadside attractions, the small towns that time forgot in the best possible way. It’s an America that still exists. You just have to get off the interstate to find it.

The Main Street of America Route 66 Centennial Caravan runs June 6th through 25th — a convoy traveling the full length of the highway with representatives from all 50 states. There’s a 130-car vintage race from Chicago to Santa Monica over nine days. Oklahoma, which has more driveable miles of Route 66 than any other state, is hosting its largest classic car parade ever in Tulsa and a full-day centennial bash in Oklahoma City. A Centennial Passport is being developed — collect stamps at landmarks the entire length of the route.

The luxury angle here is different from the other four destinations, because on Route 66, the journey is the point. Boutique hotels along the route — especially through New Mexico and Arizona — offer design-forward stays that don’t sacrifice comfort. Rent a vintage convertible for a segment. Plan around the Grand Canyon, which sits just off the route in northern Arizona and has luxury rim options that are still bookable for summer. Chicago and Santa Monica, the two bookends of the highway, both offer exceptional luxury hotel options. And in between? The road takes care of the rest.

If Bobby Troup’s “Get Your Kicks on Route 66” has been in your head since I mentioned this destination — good. It should be. That song has been covered by everyone from Nat King Cole to The Rolling Stones to Depeche Mode, and it still sounds like the American open road every single time. Some things earn their reputation.

I want to be upfront with you about something, because transparency is part of how I operate.

I have been to all 50 states. I have been to Chicago, St. Louis, Oklahoma City, Amarillo, Albuquerque, and the Santa Monica Pier. I have technically been to every state that Route 66 passes through.

What I cannot tell you is that I have driven the historic route itself. Because I haven’t.

I have seen the Gateway Arch in St. Louis — from the outside, which I realize is a little like visiting Paris and not going up the Eiffel Tower, but here we are. I have driven past the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum in Oklahoma City without going in. I have been to Albuquerque to visit family, and I can tell you a great deal about my family’s kitchen table and very little about the Aztec Motel. And the Santa Monica Pier — the official western end of Route 66 — I have absolutely done, as a side trip from Los Angeles. I love Santa Monica. I love the Pacific Coast in a way that feels almost unreasonable. Standing at that pier with the ocean in front of you, knowing you’re at the end of 2,400 miles of American road — that part I have experienced.

The rest? Clearly, I need to do more sightseeing along the Mother Road.

And here’s what I love about saying that out loud: it’s exactly why this destination belongs on this list. Route 66 at 100 is an invitation — to drive it, to stop at it, to let it surprise you. There’s a reason Thelma & Louise put two women in a car and pointed them toward the Southwest. The road does something to you. It opens something up. And for those of you who are set-jetting fans — and I know you’re out there — Tulsa, Oklahoma has a destination that belongs on your list: the Outsiders House Museum, where Francis Ford Coppola filmed the 1983 classic based on S.E. Hinton’s novel. The Curtis brothers’ house has been fully restored as a museum, complete with film artifacts, cast memorabilia, and the occasional surprise appearance by cast members themselves. In a state that Route 66 runs straight through.

The Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, the Wigwam Motel in Arizona, the Gemini Giant in Illinois — these are the kinds of places that don’t make the luxury travel brochures and are completely, unapologetically American. I plan to remedy my own gaps on this itinerary. I’ll report back.

Before You Book: A Few Things Worth Knowing

July 4th weekend accommodation in major cities is largely spoken for — but shoulder dates around the holiday still have strong luxury availability. July 2nd through 3rd, or July 5th through 7th, often offer better pricing and easier logistics while still putting you inside the programming. The celebration isn’t a single night. It’s a season.

Think beyond the weekend. Many of the best 250th events run from late June through mid-July. Build a trip around the full experience rather than a single date.

And this is where a travel advisor becomes genuinely indispensable. The VIP enhancements, the private experiences, the inventory that doesn’t show up on Expedia — those conversations are happening right now between advisors and their supplier partners. If you want a yacht charter in New York Harbor or a private ranger experience at Mount Rushmore, that is not a last-minute conversation. That is a call you make today.

America is celebrating in every corner of the country this year. You don’t have to go to the most obvious place to have the most meaningful experience. Sometimes the best seat in the house is the one nobody else thought to book.

I’ll give you two quick examples from my own travels that say everything I’m trying to say about this.

The first is Frankfort, Kentucky. Most people couldn’t tell you that Frankfort is the state capital — they assume it’s Louisville or Lexington, both of which are larger, louder, and more likely to show up on an itinerary. But if you’ve heard my episode on traveling with my mom — episode 152 — you know her rule: a real visit to a state means touring the state capitol, no exceptions. So to Frankfort we went. And what we found was a town that felt entirely unbothered by the fact that tourists hadn’t discovered it yet. The capitol building was beautiful. The streets were walkable. Everyone was out with their dogs. We wandered into a local restaurant for lunch with no reservation and no research, and it was exactly the kind of meal you can only find when you aren’t looking for it. Frankfort didn’t need us to validate it. It had absolutely no idea we were impressed. I respected that enormously.

The second is Juneau, Alaska — and this one is personal in more ways than one. I visited Juneau on my honeymoon cruise, which also happened to be the trip on which I set foot in my 50th and final state. We walked from the port to a bus that took us to the Gold Creek Salmon Bake, sat down at a table set with a pot of fresh flowers, paper towels, and silverware tucked into a cardboard beer bottle box, and ate the best salmon I have ever tasted in my life. Wood-fired, with a brown sugar sauce that I have spent years trying to find again and never will — because the sauce was only part of it. The corn on the cob, the scenery, the fact that it was Alaska and my honeymoon and my 50th state all at once. You cannot order that on a menu. You can only show up.

That is what I want for you this July 4th. Show up somewhere you haven’t fully considered. Let the country surprise you. It will.

Coming Up Next Week

Next week, we are shifting from celebrating the past to planning the future — specifically, 2027. If you are a planner — and if you’re listening to this podcast, you probably are — Episode 160 is going to be one you’ll want to take notes on. We are talking about the Virgin Voyages Fleet Meet-Up, discounted Celebrity sailings, and a Pickleball tournament in Mexico with Lomas Hospitality. Unique travel opportunities that most people don’t know exist yet. You’re going to want to get ahead of these.

Until next time, make every journey a memory worth savoring.