On an epic road trip from California to Connecticut with our two kids last August, my husband and I found ourselves totally winging it after a mudslide on I-70 in Colorado wiped out our plans to mountain bike near the town of Carbondale. It wasn’t the first snag we encountered in the past year, during which we made three major road trips in our Ford Transit camper van. But, knowing we had tons of reliable gear on board, my husband and I didn’t need to fret over the unplanned detour. Instead, we huddled over Google Maps with our five-year-old son and 21-month-old daughter to cook up an alternate plan. Soon…

Our first day in the van didn’t go the way we’d hoped. My husband and I got a late start, and we only made it an hour from home before we had to pull over for burgers and to put our kids to bed. We were parked just off I-95, and our four-year-old, cramped in his new bunk bed, kept waking up his one-year-old sister. Then we realized we’d forgotten the sawdust for the composting toilet. (Whoops.) Still, after eight months of isolation in Connecticut, this late-fall family vacation to coastal Maine already felt like a major victory — one my husband and I celebrated by popping a bottle of…

The farm-to-table movement may be decades old, but recent heightened attention towards issues like climate change and health has given rise to a new generation of chefs who are redefining what that oft-abused phrase means. In an era where fast food chains are hawking the farm-to-table trend, consumers are left feeling that every restaurant is green to some degree. These 50 establishments—plus Washington D.C.—stand out from the pack by not only creating exciting innovative cuisine with a locally sourced menu, but also by applying that same eco-minded culinary philosophy to every aspect of the operation. We consulted with the country’s top food bloggers and experts (and did plenty of foraging…

It’s been like this for the past 56 years, you think the first time you see Havana’s Linea Street: a wide thoroughfare lined with crowded buses, construction trucks and art deco buildings cracking in various shades of sherbet. Old Chevy Bel Airs, Studebakers, and Pontiacs clatter by. The air is hot and thick with exhaust, and yet you could stand there all day, soaking in the hustle-bustle of a bygone era. But the weight of bike-gear donations on your back reminds you that you didn’t come here just to stare at a crumbling, forgotten world. Sweating in spandex, my husband and I, along with four Cuban cyclists, were bound for a rural village…