The Best Things to Do in the United States

The dim lighting is a design choice, not an accident, and the 24-hour hours mean the staff has seen everything without flinching. This adult shop covers the full range: lingerie, toys, accessories, and a 200-channel digital arcade with private viewing booths. The team is notably relaxed and helpful, which goes a long way in a category where shopping can feel awkward. Phoenix New Times named it Best Adult Shop in 2025.

An indoor climbing gym that's been beefing up forearms in West Kendall since before bouldering was a personality type. No sauna, no juice bar, no steep initiation theater, just reasonable day passes, a full upstairs gym, and walls that reward actual footwork. The community is the real draw: regulars here talk beta, not brunch. Miami New Times named it Best Rock Climbing in 2025.

Forty-three courts spread across ten lakeside acres make The FORT one of the larger pickleball complexes in South Florida, and it also serves as the official home of the Association of Pickleball Players. Open play, skill-rated matches, private rentals, and tournaments all run here, and the après-match bar and kitchen give everyone a reason to linger. The crowd runs from first-timers fumbling their dinks to people who travel for this.

A century-old shopping center two miles from the Arizona State Capitol, the Gold Spot's golden brick courtyard has become an unofficial annex for state legislators, lobbyists, and the occasional curious constituent. Pita Jungle, a coffee shop, a salon, and a sandwich counter share the space with enough elected officials that eavesdropping feels almost civic. Consider it democracy, but with better focaccia.

Five vintage signs from vanished Mesa businesses glow outside The Post, an open-air neon garden that doubles as a love letter to the city's midcentury Main Street. Watson's Flowers, a porcelain Dairy Queen cone, and a Bill Johnson's bull head share the garden with a 15-foot Diving Lady, a replica of the last animated neon sign in Arizona, restored by the local artist who fixed the original after a storm took it down.

A women's resale boutique tucked into a strip mall in Ahwatukee Foothills, where the racks are hand-curated and the smell is notably not thrift store. Think Anthropologie dresses beside Lululemon sets beside a Coach bag or a Louis Vuitton one, all priced for people who do math at the register. The team runs sip-and-shop events with wine and markdowns, which is a reasonable way to make decisions you'll stand behind later.

Midcentury decor and nods to Mesa's past set the look, but the 400-capacity concert hall books metal, punk, hip-hop, and indie acts on a proper stage. Beyond shows, the room leans hard into being a genuine community space, with record swaps, DJ workshops, open-format dance nights, and yoga sessions on the calendar. It's the newest piece of a local empire that already runs a beloved theater, a basement venue, and a record store nearby.

A Birkenstock-forward shoe shop that has quietly become a fixture in downtown Tempe, drawing students, professors, and people who finally admit their feet deserve better. The selection runs from sandals and clogs to dressy leather styles, with brands like Dansko and Pikolinos filling out the racks alongside leather goods and accessories. The staff actually knows the inventory, which helps when you're deciding whether orthotics are a personality trait or just good sense.

A ten-mile linear park running beneath the Metrorail, The Underline has spent years converting concrete shadow into bike paths, basketball courts, fitness zones, art installations, and native-planted trails. The Brickell Backyard section is the busiest stretch, while the Hammock Trail pushes north into something that feels genuinely wilder. The whole thing is still expanding toward completion, which means returning visitors keep finding something new to argue about.

Pinball leagues run here most weeks, which tells you something about how seriously Tilt Studio takes its arcade. Tucked inside Arizona Mills mall, it's a full family entertainment center with laser tag, a snack bar, and a long row of Street Basketball machines that actually work, a small mercy in a genre plagued by stuck balls and swallowed credits. The hoops even feature a moving basket for anyone who finds a stationary target too easy.

The wedding-cake silhouette rising from a hill ringed with cactus is visible from the freeway, which is how most people know Tovrea Castle before they know anything about it. Built by an Italian entrepreneur dreaming of a resort, inherited by an Arizona cattle baron, and left to crumble before Phoenix restored it, the place has a strange, layered history. Tours happen twice a year by lottery, which somehow makes it more compelling.

Two separate gated fields, one for big dogs and one for small, sit inside this sprawling Doral dog park where weekends bring a genuinely chaotic mix of zoomies and sniffing diplomacy. A wash station handles the muddy aftermath, and there's outdoor fitness equipment plus a kids' playground, so the humans aren't just standing around looking grateful. The nearby Starbucks is two minutes away, which your dog has already calculated.

A record shop sprawling across the old Lowenstein Center on East Colfax, Twist & Shout stocks vinyl, CDs, DVDs, books, and decades of rock-era paraphernalia in a space big enough to lose an afternoon in. Touring acts play occasional in-store shows, and a rotating Local Listening Post keeps tabs on Denver's own scene. Westword named it the city's best record store in 2025, which will surprise nobody who has spent an hour here and left with six things they didn't plan to buy.

A butcher shop that actually explains itself, which turns out to be the hard part. Underbelly carries grass-fed, locally sourced cuts in a clean, curated case that rewards the curious and doesn't punish the clueless, because whoever's behind the counter will walk you through the difference between a skirt steak and a bavette without making you feel bad about it. The rotating sandwich menu is a quiet bonus from a team that clearly has more to say.

A strip-mall card shop in Scottsdale where the staff can tell you whether that rookie pull is worth grading and will handle the PSA submission paperwork so you don't have to. The hobby has gotten expensive and a little arcane since the '90s, and Valleywide seems to exist specifically to meet that confusion with a straight answer. Weekend afternoons draw collectors of every age, which is either heartwarming or proof that the hobby never really left.

A women's clothing boutique tucked into The Frederick, a small uptown retail complex, Vida Moulin stocks California boho pieces, think cotton cashmere tees and gingham maxi dresses, that manage to be relaxed without looking like they came off a fast-fashion conveyor belt. The prices don't require a moment of quiet reflection at the register either. Phoenix New Times named it Best Women's Clothing in 2025, which feels about right for a shop that regulars visit just to see what's new.

A volunteer-run distro shop stocking thousands of zines on every conceivable obsession, Wasted Ink is the kind of place where you go for one thing and leave an hour later having agreed to collaborate on someone else's publication. The shelves double as a small archive of zine history, and the staff can help you figure out how to start your own. Phoenix New Times named it the best place to buy a zine in 2025, which feels correct.

Sunrise over the Sonoran Desert looks different from a Robinson R66 at altitude, which is the whole argument for booking with this family-run helicopter tour company out of Scottsdale. Routes cover metro Phoenix, Sedona, and the Superstition Mountains, with mountaintop picnic flights for anyone who finds restaurants too horizontal. Pilots are seasoned and apparently good at talking first-timers off the ledge before liftoff does it for them.

A plastic-poo-flinging slingshot sits near a bar of beer-scented soap, which sits near cockroach-shaped toy cars, which is how you know you're in the right place. This Phoenix novelty and gag gift shop is a cheerfully unhinged bazaar of knickknacks nobody ordered but everyone quietly wants, from Magnetic Jesus Dress-Up kits to dragon merch to ass-shaped stress balls. The perfect stop when a normal card simply will not do.

Birding has quietly shed its retirement-hobby reputation, and Wild Birds Unlimited is where the newly converted come to figure out what to do next. The staff will match you to the right seed and feeder for what's actually flying around Scottsdale, talk you through attracting peach-faced lovebirds to your yard, and flag any local avian health alerts worth knowing. A specialty shop that takes the hobby seriously without making you feel like a tourist in your own backyard.

Somewhere between the white rhinos and the maned wolves, you may find yourself face to face with a capybara, which is a reasonable argument for coming. Wildlife World is a private zoo on the western edge of Phoenix, one of only two nationally accredited privately owned zoos in the country, with around 1,300 animals spread across naturalistic enclosures, no concrete-and-bars austerity here. The animals range from penguins to African wild dogs, and the place leans educational without being preachy about it.

Film cameras are having their moment, and Wilson Camera has been ready since the Eisenhower administration. This old-school camera shop in Scottsdale sells and services vintage gear and develops nearly every film format you can feed it. The new owner leaned hard into analog when everyone else went fully digital, so you can actually drop off your rolls here rather than mailing them to some lab in Brooklyn like everyone else apparently does.

An outdoor roller rink on colorful tiles in the heart of Wynwood, with a DJ running old-school hip-hop and Bad Bunny and a bar nearby for the non-skaters who came anyway. It runs Thursday through Sunday and costs under twenty bucks, which is a reasonable price for the combination of nostalgia and bruised dignity. Pack socks, or be prepared to hear about it.

Canyon Lake sits in the Superstition Wilderness, and Yak N Sup is how most people actually get on it, renting out kayaks and paddleboards by the day or longer from their Apache Junction outpost. Beyond self-guided rentals, the team runs guided tours that range from daytime paddles to full-moon and paranormal-themed excursions, which is a sentence you don't write every day. They also help organize lake cleanups, so the water stays worth paddling.

Four-dollar beers on Lincoln Road, which should be physically impossible. Zeke's is a cash-only sidewalk bar that has traded under a few names over the decades but never really changed: cheap cold beer, a bag of chips for a dollar, and a front-row seat to the full Miami Beach parade passing by. The hours shift, the tap selection is unpredictable, and none of that seems to bother anyone nursing a bottle in the sun.

The acoustically treated walls mean the sound hits you right no matter where you sit, which matters when the names on stage have included Esperanza Spalding and Bill Frisell. Dazzle is Denver's long-running jazz club, the kind that draws serious talent week after week and keeps the bar busy with martinis and a four-cheese mac that regulars order without looking up. DownBeat placed it among the top 100 jazz clubs in the world.

The building was a brothel, a flophouse, and a peep-show parlor before it became this. Now it's a bar and live-music venue dressed in 70s swank, vintage soft-core art, and low-slung lounges surrounding a sunken stage. The team calls it a "gastro-brothel," which is not a word you forget. Small plates and cocktails run alongside whatever's on stage, and the whole thing is loud, garish, and extremely committed to the bit.

A small Tempe shop packed floor to ceiling with single issues, trade paperbacks, manga, graphic novels, and enough indie and small-press titles to make a distributor nervous. Staff carry the kind of encyclopedic knowledge that can match a superfan or gently redirect someone who just wandered in. The wall of collectibles, including some genuinely odd merch, rewards browsing. Recent shelf finds included "Sir Charles Barkley and the Referee Murders," so the range is real.

A geodesic dome built to look like a beehive sits inside this late-night dance bar and immersive art venue in RiNo. The team behind it took Tulum and Burning Man as their starting points, then handed the space to a crew of local artists, so you get vine-covered bars and a garden courtyard that somehow make sense together. It draws the kind of crowd that dresses for the art as much as the dancing.

The shelves at this beloved Phoenix used bookstore run from paperback thrillers to vintage board games to vinyl, and somewhere in between you'll find a ukulele someone gave up on. Bookmans is a used-everything exchange, the kind of place where you drop off a box of stuff you're done with and walk out with an armful of things you absolutely didn't need. Plan for an afternoon; nobody browses Bookmans quickly.

An antique mall so large that people routinely miscalculate how long they'll be inside. Individual booths mean each seller curates their own little world, so a stretch of vintage film cameras can give way to a wall of Arizona kitsch or a case of rare Pokémon cards without any warning. Cowboy boots, obscure collectibles, mid-century furniture, and things you didn't know you needed are all here, somewhere. Clear the afternoon.

You sign a waiver, pull on safety gear, and then someone hands you a crate of breakable things and walks away. Breakthrough is a smash room, which means the activity is exactly what it sounds like: hurling bottles and retired appliances at walls until your arms give out. A splatter room handles the paint-throwing crowd. It's a surprisingly efficient way to reset, and considerably cheaper than the destruction of property charge waiting just outside.

Bruce Springsteen swung by on his last Phoenix tour, which tells you roughly what kind of store Cave & Post Trading Co. is. It's a men's clothing shop in central Phoenix that leans into classic American workwear with a Western edge, carrying selvedge denim, pearl-snap shirts, and the sort of sunglasses that feel like they belong in a different decade. The owners are music people, so touring bands stop in regularly, though most regulars are just well-dressed guys who know what they like.

Duke Ellington played this Five Points room when it was still the Casino Cabaret, which tells you something about the bones. It's a live music venue now running a wide-open booking policy: dubstep, hip-hop, bluegrass, and jam bands share the calendar without obvious contradiction. The main floor was rebuilt and the stage expanded, so the sound holds up. Crowds skew toward people who track setlists, but the room pulls in anyone chasing a late night.

Tucked below Larimer Square, this standup club has the kind of acoustics that make a room feel like it's laughing with one throat. Dave Attell recorded a live album here, and Dave Chappelle has a habit of showing up unannounced. New Talent Nights have been launching local comics toward television for years, which keeps the room feeling like something might actually happen on any given night.

The name came from an old boot shop whose sign was too expensive to replace, which tells you everything about how Cowtown operates. It's a skate shop with a lived-in feel, stocking boards, trucks, and apparel for everyone from serious park rats to people whose knees have filed a formal complaint. Staff who actually skate work the counter, and the shop runs a nonprofit keeping younger riders in the scene.

A cactus-shaped shot glass and a roadrunner onesie in the same basket is a good sign that a shop resists easy categorization. Frances is a gift and lifestyle boutique tucked into a Camelback Road shopping center, stocking menswear, kids' clothes, home goods, jewelry, and Arizona-made finds alongside greeting cards and complimentary gift wrap, so you can walk in scrambling and walk out sorted.

The art-deco interior survived a near-demolition, and it still sets the tone: ornate details, good acoustics, and a room that makes mid-sized shows feel like an occasion. The Gothic is a standing concert venue in Englewood that books the kind of acts you'll wish you'd caught before they got bigger, alongside local projects that wouldn't otherwise find a stage this good. Take the light rail; parking on Broadway is its own opening act.

Each location of this local adult shop chain gets its own decor scheme, so the Arcadia spot leans street art while the West Valley one goes full Alice in Wonderland. Groove stocks lingerie, dancewear, toys, and bachelorette supplies, and the staff are the kind of helpful that doesn't make anyone squirm. There's a rewards program for regulars, which the store describes, with admirable restraint, as benefiting frequent customers.

The low-slung stage here puts you close enough to the band that you'll question whether you're supposed to be back there. Larimer Lounge is a dive-ish live music venue in RiNo that has hosted acts like Arcade Fire and Bat for Lashes before they stopped fitting in rooms this size. The bar up front runs on beer, shots, and what appears to be structural duct tape. Westword named it Denver's top venue for both rock bands and DJs in 2024.

A boutique bodega stocked with natural wines, Arizona-made snacks, and objects no reasonable person needs but everyone leaves carrying. The purple psychedelic oven mitt, the artichoke candle, the butterfly dice: the inventory reads like a fever dream curated by someone with genuinely good taste. Cold drinks, eclectic merch, Baggu bags, and a hot sauce section round it out. It also hosts yoga sometimes, which tracks completely.

More than 400 Indigenous-owned small businesses share a permanent indoor market in Old Town Scottsdale, selling handmade goods that range from beaded jewelry and hand-carved pottery to soaps and sand art. The nonprofit vending program requires all participants to be of Native American descent, so purchases go straight to the makers. A seasonal outdoor market runs on weekends in cooler months for anyone who prefers browsing under the sky.

The wraparound balcony alone explains why national touring acts keep coming back to this mid-size concert venue on Colfax. The Ogden has been around forever, vaudeville and all, and a recent overhaul brought new floors and a proper sound system without scrubbing the old bones. It holds a sweet spot between arena anonymity and club intimacy, which makes the sightlines good pretty much wherever you end up.

An old movie house in the Berkeley neighborhood that survived decades of disrepair to become one of Denver's more reliably eclectic live venues. Music, comedy, circus, and things harder to categorize all share the same stage, which makes checking the calendar a worthwhile habit. The room still carries the bones of its original life, and the scale keeps it intimate enough that there isn't really a bad spot in the house.

A festival-wear shop on Mill Avenue stocked with shiny bodysuits, fuzzy sets, wild sunglasses, flow toys, and everything else you need to look properly unhinged under a light rig. Most of the merchandise comes from Arizona makers, so the sequins carry some local pride. The store has a posted zero-tolerance policy for bigotry, which shouldn't be a selling point but somehow still is. Go when your next event is two weeks out and you've convinced yourself you have something to wear.

Two 300-foot sandstone fins frame the stage at Red Rocks, an outdoor amphitheater carved by geology rather than any architect. U2 filmed "Under a Blood Red Sky" here, and the recording captures why: the acoustics are a geological accident that nobody has managed to replicate. The venue sits open most of the year for hiking and visiting even when nobody's performing, so you don't need a ticket to feel like you've stumbled onto something.

A 360-degree ocean tunnel sits at the center of this mall aquarium, and yes, it's inside Arizona Mills, which somehow makes the sharks feel more surreal. Over 5,000 species move through 161,000 gallons, including reef sharks, stingrays, jellyfish, and a tank where kids can locate both Nemo and Dory without a map. The tide pool lets you touch baby sharks, and a paid add-on gets you up close with rescued sea turtles. Cheaper than its Scottsdale rival by a wide margin.

Part antique mall, part haunted house, Terror Trader is a horror-themed marketplace where local vendors fill coffin-shaped cases with slasher memorabilia, VHS tapes, and ceramic human organs. A museum room of real skulls anchors the space, and life-size slasher villains lurk around corners for good measure. Phoenix New Times named it the best place for horror buffs two years running. The crowd, predictably, does not shop in beige.

A vast stage and a sound system loud enough to rattle the fillings out of your skull make The 44 in Glendale the go-to metal venue in the Valley, which feels cosmically correct given that Alice Cooper grew up nearby. National touring acts share the bill with tribute bands and local talent, and the bar food is cheap enough that you can eat and still afford a band tee. Bring earplugs unless you enjoy tinnitus as a souvenir.

Chandeliers and exposed rafters inside a 1930s building that now hosts 1,800 people for live music on a good night. The Van Buren is a midsize concert venue in downtown Phoenix where general admission keeps things relatively democratic and the sightlines are genuinely hard to complain about. Live Nation books the calendar, which means a steady rotation of artists big enough to matter but not yet filling arenas.

Tens of thousands of used books spread across the fairgrounds floor once a year, priced so low it feels like a clerical error. The VNSA Used Book Sale is Phoenix's annual bibliophile free-for-all, run by volunteers and drawing serious collectors alongside people who just need something for the pool. Bring a tote, bring cash, and arrive with a loose plan, because the sheer square footage has a way of dissolving any sense of time or restraint.

A vintage shop tucked into a North Phoenix strip mall, Wang's moves the kind of T-shirts that make strangers stop you on the street: old Suns gear, beat-up band tees, the Marilyn Manson shirt your mom vetoed. Stock turns over constantly, so regulars follow their Instagram like a dispatch line. Prices run fair to real money depending on the piece, though the Saturday sale bins reliably yield something good for ten dollars.

A small vintage shop in Tucson's Grand Avenue arts district, 3G Vintage is packed floor to ceiling with the detritus of a better-dressed era: mid-90s cassette singles, old VHS tapes, back issues of Rolling Stone, troll dolls. New stock arrives constantly, which gives regulars an excuse to stop in often and call it research. Whether the decades it celebrates were genuinely simpler or just pre-mortgage is a question you can debate on the drive over.

Trays of loose bricks sorted by color and size sit open on the floor so you can hunt down that one piece you've been missing since 2009. Arizona Brick Co. is a family-run LEGO shop carrying new sets, used sets, individual minifigures, and the kind of loose-brick selection that serves both the casual builder and the person who considers this a lifestyle. Price points range enough that you don't have to be a completionist to leave with something.

Somewhere between a liturgical supply house and a very niche gift shop, Autom is the kind of place that sells hanging censers and baptismal fonts alongside saint medallions, garden crosses, and yes, religious-themed Croc charms. The only retail outpost of a catalog operation that ships nationwide, it's been around forever and skews Catholic but has enough for curious shoppers of any tradition or none at all.

Every October, one wing of this sprawling family nursery quietly transforms into a Christmas wonderland, which says something about how seriously Phoenix takes its holiday seasons. The rest of the year, Berridge is the kind of plant nursery you budget an hour for and leave three hours later, having consulted the staff about desert-hardy options and wandered the greenhouse twice. An old-school Phoenix institution with acres to roam.

Neon, glitz, and gold cover every surface of this 3,500-square-foot Scottsdale nightclub, which has been an anchor of the entertainment district long enough to feel like a local institution. The format is straightforward: drinking and dancing, with aerialists and guest DJ sets keeping things from going stale. Expect a line out front and a crowd dressed accordingly.

Sketch comedy and improv on South Broadway, where the Baker neighborhood's thrift-store-chic energy suits the format perfectly. Performers with roots in Chicago, New York, and LA take the stage Thursday through Sunday, and the room is small enough that a botched scene lands on everyone equally. Classes run from total beginner to working comic, so you can watch one week and embarrass yourself on stage the next.

A foam tube "noodle forest," a pretend grocery store where kids can shop and restock, a tricycle track with a car wash: this children's museum in a beautifully restored old downtown schoolhouse keeps small visitors busy enough that they forget to argue. The oak floors date to the original building, so parents get architecture while their kids get chaos. Plan a few hours; one level is never enough.

A single-owner operation in a bare-bones space where new and unpublished plays get staged because no board exists to say otherwise. Dangerous Theatre leans into sketch, improv, and stand-up on Fridays alongside original works the rest of the week, the kind of scrappy, intimate venue where the person who wrote the show might also be taking your ticket. Westword named it Denver's boundary-pushing comedy club of 2024.

A crystal shop tucked inside a warehouse that shares a building with a storage facility, so easy to walk past that finding it feels like half the ritual. Inside, the scale surprises: room after room of crystals, including one dedicated entirely to amethyst. A resident cat roams the floor. Weekly sound healing and yoga sessions run under lighting made entirely of crystals, which is either very on-brand or a fire code conversation waiting to happen.

An outdoor amphitheater in the Denver suburbs that has cycled through enough corporate sponsors to fill a naming-rights hall of fame, Fiddlers Green is now back to its original name and hosting around 17,000 people a summer night. The fixed seats up front give way to a general-admission lawn behind, where blankets and lawn chairs fill in for anything from country headliners to metal festivals. AEG Live books the big touring acts that still fill sheds.

A tabletop game store that doesn't charge to use its gaming space, which tells you something about the vibe before you even walk in. Funkatronic Rex stocks tabletop, card, miniature, and role-playing games, with a packed event calendar and staff who clearly play everything they sell. The place landed a segment on "Critter Hug," the Critical Role talk show, which tracks. Phoenix New Times named it Best Game Store in 2024.

Floor-to-ceiling windows that actually let daylight in make this casino feel less like a submarine than what you're used to. The outdoor gardens drive the point home. Inside, there's a large sportsbook with a long LED wall, 800-plus slots, table games, and 40 craft beer taps. Honey & Vine handles sit-down dining. Don't skip the perimeter walk: the walls display artwork by Gila River Indian Community members, and it's worth the detour.

The Stormrider drops you roughly 70 feet into the water, which is one way to spend a Tuesday in Mesa. Golfland Sunsplash is a full-scale water and amusement park with a wave pool holding 450,000 gallons, a raft ride that starts nearly seven stories up, a lazy river, a toddler pool, miniature golf, and an arcade big enough to lose an hour in. Bring the whole chaotic family; the park has something for every age group and nerve tolerance.