Destination: United States : The Silent Treatment : 10 Quiet--and Unbelievably Scenic--Places Across America That Soothe the Weary and Renew the Spirit

The name is ominous, but Death Valley really is a beautiful, mountain-ringed realm of multicolored rocks, a curiously rumpled terrain, geological oddities, magnificent panoramas--and, not the least of its attractions, a quiet both awesome and wonderfully relaxing. Far from fearsome, the parkland is a comforting retreat for weary travelers in search of repose and contemplation.

Tourist brochures hype adventure, but sometimes excitement isn’t what you are looking for. A destination wrapped in an aura of peace and quiet can sometimes hold more allure. As a frequent traveler, I’ve chanced on a number of offbeat places in the United States that seem uncommonly peaceful, and I’ve put together a list of 10 favorites--all of them essentially outdoor escapes--that gently massage your psyche and send you home with spirit refreshed.

NORTHERN LAKES, NEW HAMPSHIRE

The northern tip of New Hampshire, where it nudges up against the Canadian border, is a forested wilderness of deep lakes, rushing streams and maybe more wandering moose than there are people. On U.S. 3, which heads north from Pittsburgh, visitors are advised to slow down and keep a watch out for moose. The local folks call it “moose cruising,” and it passes for big excitement in this part of the country.

This is a rugged land, still possessing a raw, frontier look--home, as one guidebook author writes, of chain saws and pickup trucks. Good country for moose. Every other house, it seems, has a sign posted advertising maple syrup for sale. A relatively empty corner of the state, it draws outdoor enthusiasts in search of hiking, fishing, swimming and canoeing.

But the most impressive feature of northern New Hampshire is the string of lakes formed by the Connecticut River. U.S. 3 touches each of four southern lakes, snaking through a wooded corridor formed by Connecticut Lakes State Forest.

One afternoon we picnicked at a lone roadside table set splendidly on a rocky, pine-shaded peninsula jutting into Second Connecticut Lake. Water circled us on three sides, a perfect picnic spot, and when we finally left it was reluctantly. Go in the summer to enjoy the lakes and in the fall for the foliage. Lodging is in rustic-looking but comfortable lodges at lakeside. For more information, contact the New Hampshire Office of Travel and Tourism, P.O. Box 1856, Concord, N.H. 03302-1856; tel. (603) 271-2666.

VIRGINIA HIGHLANDS

Tucked into the lightly populated corner of southwestern Virginia, the Mt. Rogers National Recreation Area is a sprawling, 115,000-acre mountain preserve encompassing the state’s loftiest and most remote real estate. Countless rushing streams spill out of these hills, and their densely forested slopes and open valleys are laced by miles of hiking, mountain-biking and horseback-riding trails. Still relatively undiscovered, the parkland seldom fills its campsites, even in midsummer. I went in late spring a year ago, and sometimes felt I had the place to myself.

Unusual characteristics of these Virginia mountains are the open areas called “balds” splashed across their slopes. These rocky, treeless expanses in the midst of the forest resemble the Big Sky landscapes of Montana and Wyoming. Go any season. Most overnight visitors camp, but other lodging is in motels and B&Bs.; For more information, contact the Virginia Department of Tourism, 1021 E. Cary St., Richmond, Va. 23219 (tel. 800-847-4882), or 1629 K St. NW, Washington, D.C. 20006; tel. (202) 659-5523 and (800) 934-9184 for B&B; reservations.

KENTUCKY GHOSTS

In the crumpled landscape of southeastern Kentucky, I stumbled in 1991 on the ghost of an abandoned coal-mining town called Blue Heron, all but hidden deep in the rocky gorge of the Big South Fork River. Now a part of a national parkland--called the Big South Fork National River and Recreation Area--the old community tells a haunting story of a harsh life only partially redeemed by the splendor of the surrounding countryside.

Much of the park, set in the rugged Cumberland Plateau, is a reclaimed wilderness. Kentucky 742, one of the few roads entering the park, winds past superb overlooks and then drops in series of breathtaking swirls to the bottom of the gorge at Blue Heron.

In its heyday 50 years ago, the town was home to 300 miners and their families. But all that remains now is a giant coal tipple, which towers like a skyscraper on stilts. Elsewhere, open-air “ghost” structures have been erected to outline the shapes of former houses, the school, company store and the miners’ bathhouse, where they washed off the coal dust. Go any season. Lodging is in motels, nearby state park lodges and B&Bs.; For more information, contact the Kentucky Department of Travel, Capital Plaza Tower, 500 Mero St., 22nd Floor, Frankfort, Ky. 40601-1968; (800) 225-8747.

MISSOURI OZARKS

Dense green forests blanket the convoluted slopes of southeastern Missouri’s Ozarks, and in the deep hollows solitary farmers raise cattle and harvest crops of hay. Only a few winding back roads trace the mountains, and they are so empty that one afternoon a couple of years ago I spotted a portly wild turkey ambling across my path. In many places, natural springs gush forth from beneath high rocky ledges, forming beautifully tinted pools of turquoise or royal blue that make up one of the nation’s largest concentrations of springs.

This is rural Missouri, a lightly populated corner of the Ozark Plateau that still holds firm to many of its mountain traditions. I went there to canoe the Jacks Fork and Current rivers, which form the Ozark National Scenic Riverways. The rivers meander like mountain roads descending into the distance, and even a novice like me could manage without much difficulty.

But you don’t have to canoe to enjoy the rivers and the region. Several of the springs, including Big Spring, one of the largest in the world, can easily be reached by car. At numerous access points along the length of the two rivers, you can park the car beneath a shade tree and, like canoeists and tubers, go for a swim almost anywhere. And every road I drove yielded lovely mountain views.

Go mid-week from spring into fall. Lodging is in motels, lodges and B&Bs; from modest to deluxe. For more information, contact the Missouri Division of Tourism, P.O. Box 1055, Jefferson City, Mo. 65102; tel. (800) 877-1234.

PIONEER COUNTRY, NEBRASKA

As a native of Nebraska, I am partial to the state, but I can assure you that it offers a rich pioneer heritage along with the quiet, distinctive beauty of rolling grasslands and an all-enveloping blue sky. The immensity of the open spaces is incredible. To some, such emptiness might be stupefying--trees are so few you can almost count them and farms are widely spread. But every time I return, I find the solitude a release from the everyday clamor and clutter of urban life. My spirit soars.

To my mind, no other state tells the tale of America’s pioneers quite so well. Earlier this year, I drove the full length of the famed Oregon Trail, which pushes across Nebraska for hundreds of miles, and here I found some of the most interesting and evocative sites along the way--among them, a restored Pony Express station; Windlass Hill, where pioneers inched their wagons down a steep incline leaving still-visible ruts; and Scotts Bluff, the red sandstone mountain that was a landmark for wagon trains.

I drove surprisingly scenic back roads, as empty as any I have ever seen. Much of the land is given over to pasture for cattle-raising, and the wind-tossed grass in every shade of green is a constantly pleasing prospect. To its great credit, Nebraska has established roadside parks overlooking lakes or streams, and they are perfect places to stop for a picnic or to contemplate the glory of open spaces.

Go in late spring when the grass is green. Lodging is in motels, B&Bs; and guest ranches. For more information, contact the Nebraska Travel and Tourism Department, 700 S. 16th St., P.O. Box 96444, Lincoln, Neb. 68508; tel. (800) 228-4307.

DAKOTA BADLANDS

This is another destination with an uninviting name, and yet the two badlands national parks in North and South Dakota are strangely captivating. Indeed, I was dazzled by them and apparently so was Teddy Roosevelt, who in the 1880s bought a ranch in the western hills of North Dakota. The two parks--Badlands in South Dakota and Theodore Roosevelt in North Dakota--are situated close enough to be visited on the same trip. The region’s often violent thunder and wind storms have eroded the landscape of the parks into a bleak, yet fantastic jumble of pinnacles, buttes and spires that constantly amazes. The parks are also home to wild horses, bison and communities of prairie dogs. As awesome in its way is the emptiness of the Great Plains, which envelops the parks in a sea of wild grassland. In the spring, the grass is a thick and beautiful green, varying in tone from light to dark depending on the play of sun and clouds overhead. When breezes sweep the Dakota hills, the grass is tossed wildly like waves in an ocean squall. It is a magnificent sight.

Go in late spring when the grass is green. Lodging is in motels. For more information, contact North Dakota Tourism, 604 East Blvd., Bismarck, N.D. 58505 (tel. 800- 437-2077) or the South Dakota Department of Tourism, 711 E. Wells Ave., Pierre, S.D. 57501-3369 (tel. 800-732-5682).

WIND RIVER RANGE, WYOMING

The Old West--the real West--is alive and well in Wyoming’s Wind River Country, one of the wildest and emptiest places in America. Out there, working cowboys still ride the range and hang out in cowboy bars, and you can wear your Stetson and pointy-toed boots and not feel like a fool.

Most visitors to Wyoming head for the chic resort town of Jackson and Grand Teton and Yellowstone national parks to the north, and in summer the park roads are jammed. When you tire of the crowds, turn east to the 100-mile-long Wind River Range, and the throngs and the traffic evaporate. My wife and I circled the range on roads on which ours often was the only car in sight. We hiked in the mountains, went trail riding at a guest ranch, danced the cowboy two-step in a Western bar in the little town of Dubois, and woke up morning after morning to the sight of moose and other wildlife grazing in the quiet outside our cabin window.

Go in the summer. Lodging is in motels, B&Bs; and guest ranches. For more information, contact Wyoming Division of Tourism, I-25 at College Drive, Cheyenne, Wyo. 82002; tel. (800) 225-5996.

OREGON COAST

As far as I could see, up Oregon’s mountainous coastline and down, white-tipped waves, heavy with muscle, pounded the shore mercilessly. I had stopped at cliff’s edge at Cape Perpetua, a soaring headland that thrusts out into the Pacific. The rugged cape, draped in tall Sitka spruce, stood at about midpoint on my three-day coastal drive from historic Astoria on the Columbia River to little Brookings, an Easter lily-growing community 365 miles south near the California border. I was alone on this trip but not lonely--the awesome clash of sea and rock was much too impressive to permit any form of self-pity. I shouted my joy at simply being there to see it all.

The Oregon coastline, one of the country’s most scenic drives, can spark that kind of strange behavior. For much of the way, U.S. 101, a mostly two-lane highway, clings to the shoreline. As I drove south, the Pacific was on my right, and on my left hovered the lush forested slopes of the Coast Range.

I lingered along the way, taking time from behind the steering wheel to hike several mostly empty beaches. These beaches are not for swimming, really, although the hardy do venture into the water. The surf in many places is too wild, the undertow dangerous, and the water is unpleasantly cold, even in midsummer. Fog is frequent in summer, casting the morning with a gray, brooding beauty. When it finally disappears, however, the sun is warm and bright and the sea air, scented with damp spruce and fir, is as fresh as you have ever breathed.

Go any season. Lodging is in roadside motels, small inns, an occasional plush resort and B&Bs.; For more information, contact the Oregon Tourism Division, 775 Summer St. NE, Salem, Ore. 97310; tel. (800) 547-7842.

MOLOKAI, HAWAII

Relatively few travelers bound for Hawaii make the little island of Molokai their primary destination. But this is a loss, because Molokai is the most Hawaiian of any of the islands open to tourists, and it is as scenically spectacular as any of them. What it doesn’t have are high-rise resorts, expensive restaurants, nightspots or crowds.

Graced with the same high, cloud-draped cliffs and wide sunny beaches that give exotic beauty to all the islands, Molokai remains that rarest of a traveler’s dreams: a relatively untouched tropical escape where masses of coconut palms sway in the breeze, and there’s never a hint of the irritating traffic jams that plague neighboring Oahu and Maui. Visitors pretty much have the island to themselves.

On the rainy northeastern shore, sea cliffs regarded as the world’s highest rise to more than 3,000 feet. Down their steep, wrinkled face tumbles Hawaii’s longest waterfall, Kahiwa Falls. The best land-based view of this impressive coast is from the height of Palaau State Park, sprawled at cliff’s edge. Far below is Kalaupapa Peninsula, site of a national historical park that recalls the era when this spot served as a settlement colony for victims of leprosy. Tucked in the folds of high, rumpled mountains on Molokai’s eastern tip is Halawa Valley, where a 2 1/2-mile trail follows a rushing creek to the base of Moaula Falls. There you can cool off and satisfy a recurring tropical fantasy by plunging into a deep, clear turquoise pool.

Go any season. Lodging on the island is limited but choices range from modest to deluxe. For more information, contact the Hawaii Visitors Bureau, 2270 Kalakaua Ave., Suite 801, Honolulu, Hawaii 96815; tel. (808) 923-1811.

DEATH VALLEY, CALIFORNIA

In 1849, a party of would-be miners from Illinois was searching for a shortcut to California’s Gold Rush when they stumbled into a large desert valley and almost never made it out again. They did escape, but their arduous trek earned the valley its fearsome name: Death Valley. Despite this image, Death Valley National Monument is--at least in the winter--an inviting place of quiet and beauty. In a multicolored moonscape, freshwater springs burble from the rocks, animal and plant life survive, and oases of palm trees shelter comfortable accommodations.

Most winter days are mild and sunny, just about perfect for exploring the valley’s rich mining history and its amazing geological phenomena.

In some parts of the canyon, extreme erosion has created a badlands where nothing grows. Yet the slashed and contorted slopes have the aesthetic appeal of dramatic architecture.

Go in winter. Lodging in park inns run from modest to deluxe. For more information, contact the California Division of Tourism, 801 K St., Suite 1600, Sacramento 95814; tel. (800) 862-2543 for a brochure or (916) 322-2881 for additional information.