So far, I have visited 43 U.S. states—wandered through desert canyons, walked snowy city streets, driven roads that seemed to stretch forever. And while that number makes me feel like I’ve seen a lot of the country, it’s also a reminder that I haven’t seen all of it. Seven states remain unchecked on my travel map—and not for lack of curiosity. Life just hasn’t lined it up that way yet.
But I like that I still have these holdouts. It means I still have places to wonder about. And maybe the best kind of travel is the kind you anticipate.
So here they are: the final seven states on my list—and a few reasons I’m looking forward to in each of them.
Tiny but mighty. Delaware always seems to get overshadowed by its neighbors (looking at you, Pennsylvania and Maryland), but I have a soft spot for the overlooked. I want to walk through the colonial streets of New Castle, get a taste of local life in Wilmington, and dip my toes in the Atlantic at Rehoboth or Bethany Beach. I’m drawn to places that feel like time slowed down a little, and Delaware gives off those vibes—bonus points for tax-free shopping and a surprisingly rich brewing scene.
Yes, somehow, I still haven’t made it to Maine. Other northeastern states, but not Maine, yet. I know—I’ve romanticized it enough in my mind to practically feel like I’ve been. Lighthouses on rocky cliffs. Pine forests, quiet lakes, and coastal towns that lean into their salt-weathered charm.
Portland (Maine, not Oregon this time) is high on my list, but I also want to get beyond the city: maybe Acadia National Park, a few sleepy fishing villages, and an old bed-and-breakfast where I can drink coffee while wrapped in a wool blanket. I have a feeling I’ll love it so much I’ll wonder why I waited this long.
Nebraska doesn’t usually make the top of people’s must-visit lists—and that makes me want to go even more. There’s something about the Great Plains that makes you think about space, silence, and the long rhythms of the land. I want to see the sandhill cranes in flight over the Platte River, drive past fields that ripple like golden oceans, and feel what it’s like to be truly in the middle of the country.
Plus, I’ve heard Omaha is full of surprises: good food, strong art, and a sense of hometown pride that runs deep. Lincoln too. Nebraska might be quiet, but I suspect it’s also quietly beautiful.
Oklahoma is one of those states that’s been just out of reach—I’ve driven near it, around it, even flown over it—but never actually stopped to explore. And the more I read about it, the more intrigued I get.
Oklahoma City is going through a creative boom, with public art, food trucks, riverfront parks, and revitalized neighborhoods that feel fresh without forgetting their roots. I want to explore the National Museum of the American Indian, eat spicy fried chicken in a neon-lit diner, and see how cowboy culture and modern design coexist. Oklahoma feels like one of those places with more depth than people give it credit for—and I’m ready to find out.
Rhode Island feels like a secret you stumble into. Small enough to drive across in under an hour, but full of charm, history, and that salty New England grit I love. I want to wander around Providence’s old mills turned into galleries and cafes, explore the college town energy of Brown University, and eat clam cakes by the water without worrying about getting sand in my shoes.
And Newport? I’ve heard it’s like stepping into a different century—with Gilded Age mansions and coastal cliffs begging for a long walk. Rhode Island may be small, but I suspect it’s packed with personality.
South Dakota is wild in the best sense of the word. I’ve seen photos of the Badlands and the Black Hills that stop me in my tracks—alien landscapes, dramatic skies, bison silhouetted against rust-colored cliffs. I want to drive the open highways, visit Mount Rushmore to say I’ve done it, and stand beneath the granite spires of Custer State Park with no cell signal and no rush to be anywhere else.
There’s something freeing about those wide, empty spaces. I’m ready for big sky moments, winding scenic roads, and that weird joy of roadside attractions in the middle of nowhere.
Vermont is the state I’ve been romanticizing for years. Maple syrup, rolling green hills, old barns, covered bridges, and small towns that smell like wood smoke and cinnamon. It sounds like a Wes Anderson set I never want to leave.
But beyond the postcard charm, I’m drawn to the state’s spirit—independent, artsy, and deeply tied to the land. I want to stay in a little inn with a fireplace, visit the original Ben & Jerry’s factory (yes, seriously), hike a trail with more trees than people, and just let the quiet soak in. Vermont feels like a place that makes you slow down and pay attention in all the right ways.
Final Thoughts
Having seven states left to visit doesn’t feel like a gap—it feels like a gift. It means I still have stories I haven’t heard, landscapes I haven’t seen, and flavors I haven’t tasted. It means there’s still wonder waiting, just down a road I haven’t taken yet.
So here’s to the last seven: small, vast, overlooked, and surprising. I’m coming for you. Maybe not all at once. Maybe not on schedule. But definitely with curiosity, a camera, and a good pair of walking shoes.
