Piggy-backing on what Charlie said, I'd go to Moab, then up to I-70, west of Green River, then south to Hanksville, west from Hanksville through Capital Reef NP, to Torrey, then south on UT-12 (one of the very best roads anywhere if you're not bothered too much by a multitude of tar snakes), Bryce Canyon, Zion (in and back out from the east side), the North Rim and then the South Rim of the Canyon.
And chiming in on what Rick said, too. In 1998, the week after my divorce became final in September, I rode my Silverwing from here to Grand Junction and then my folks and I drove to the North Rim where we met my two brothers and my youngest brother's wife (and a woman who had kind of attached themselves to Larry and his wife, who it turned out had met me at the United Methodist Annual Conference in June and knew I was getting a divorce).
Mike had invited us to do the Rim-to-Rim with him. Larry and his wife were accomplished hikers (although Larry had had a heart attack and suffered from more angina that any of the rest of us realized, he was still a strong hiker). I still had my OEM knees, but I hadn't gotten the chance to do very much training.
I told them that I knew my body pretty well and I'd hike with them until I decided I needed to turn around hike out. We left the North Rim at 4:30AM and I hiked down about half-way to the bottom. By 8:30, I was beginning to get a small blister on my left heel and decided that there wasn't any way I'd make it all the way down and back out on the South Rim. So, I turned around and took my time getting back to the North Rim. That day was one of the best days of my life and the Canyon was very healing for my hurting heart.
And I'd been right in my judgment about what my body could take. I was fine the day of the hike. I little stiff the next day, and then on the 3rd day, my legs locked up and I could barely move!
The other four hikers came up out of the Canyon at 10PM that night.
I will never forget that day.
And one of these days, I'm going back and take the helicopter ride Rick mentioned. When I was learning to fly in northern California, one of my flight instructors's gifts to his students came when he'd introduce us flying by instrument reference alone. After working us over with recoveries from unusual attitudes, he'd give us vectors and then have us start stepping down lower and lower in altitude. When he got down to 200', I figured we had to be out over the Pacific, and when he kept stepping me down to 50', I knew we were. Then he reached over and lifted the hood off my head. We were in Bodega Bay, with cliffs on our left, rocks on our right, and the ocean stretching out in front of us. That was what he did for Private Pilot students.
For Commercial students, they'd fly to Williams, AZ, land and fuel up, then he'd put them under the hood, give them vectors, and have them 100' or so above the trees when he'd reach over and pull off the hood about 30 seconds before they flew out over the edge of the South Rim.
