Spring’s rains portend summer weather. Long, comfortable days in the sun are upon us. But what are your plans; where in the National Park System will you go? Will you go in search of paleontological relics or active volcanoes; long trails or quiet lakes? Or, will you just sit on the beach and fly a kite? The park system can handle every dream, and more, as we point out.

Sometimes, you just have to take advantage of the less hectic side of the national parks. Contributor Danny Bernstein did that recently when she left her car behind and took to walking the 11-mile loop around Cades Cove in Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

By any name, Acadia National Park's glacially-carved mountains, serene lakes and ponds, pristine forests, sand and cobble beaches, jagged granite headlands, abundant wildlife, and historical remnants attract more than three million visitors a year, all who come to find their place in “the place.” Are you ready to find yours in “heaven on Earth”?

Some places in the National Park System capture your eyes with spectacular scenery. But Manzanar National Historic Site captures your heart.

With a trekking pole in one hand and an ice ax in the other, I am naked except for the rigid mountaineering boots on my feet. With all my clothes in my backpack, I cross three braids of the glacier-fed Chitina River in Alaska, stopping to partially recover from the cold on the gravel bars in between. But I know the last ford is going to be the trickiest.

Every day we are overwhelmed with stunning photos from the National Park System. Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and Pinterest, along with other websites and social media outlets, feed us spectacular photos of high country lakes, wild grizzlies, bison, glaciers, and stunning peaks. While they provide the inspiration to head out into the parks, they don’t always show how difficult and, sometimes, how dangerous, it can actually be.

Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, I learned about the Civil War through books, movies, and plastic action figures. There just weren’t any battlefields in Oregon for a ten-year-old to experience first-hand. So, when I started traveling east, I was drawn to iconic battlefields like Gettysburg and Antietam. Until I started my quest to visit all the national park units, I had no idea of the sheer number of battlefields or how integrated into local communities they were and still are.

I literally stumbled upon Cesar Chavez National Monument by chance. I’ve been on one of my wanderabouts for nearly a month now. Just going wherever my truck takes me.

When I told a friend in Taos, New Mexico, where I reside, that I was heading over to Bears Ears National Monument in southeastern Utah, his response was pointed. “We’d better get over there before the oil, gas, and uranium guys trash it!”

It wasn't much more than a goat path. Or, more appropriate for the setting, a desert bighorn sheep path. With the wind swirling about us and a lapis lazuli sky overhead, we played connect-the-dots with the small stacked cairns that looped across the sandstone amphitheater and took us higher and higher. This was Canyonlands National Park at its best.

The rental car was taking a beating so we decided to turn around. Recent rains had eroded the road and created serious ruts in the shortcut we were taking from Mojave National Preserve into the new Castle Mountain National Monument. After the car went up on three wheels climbing out of the last arroyo, we slapped high fives for successfully retracing our track back to the main road.

In the far eastern reaches of Arizona, nestled in the pass between the Chiricahua and Dos Cabezas mountains, 20 miles or so from its border with New Mexico, sits the well-preserved remains of Fort Bowie, which was established as a National Historic Site in 1972. Apache Pass, and its year-round water supply, hosted Fort Bowie from 1861 to 1894 and was a key site in the decades-long battle against the Apache.

When John Muir traveled in 1879 to the landscape now embraced by Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve in Alaska, his great desire to see its bay and surrounding glaciers was confounded by overcast skies and rain with some snow mixed in. But when the weather took a change for the better, he was astounded by the view.

It was, John Muir recounted during the summer of 1888, “awful in bulk and majesty, filling all the view like a separate, newborn world, yet withal so fine and so beautiful it might well fire the dullest observer to desperate enthusiasm.” “It” was Mount Rainier, and it astounded Muir when he saw it for the first time, and his words remain true today.

I stumbled across a video the other day that further convinced me that I need to move Gates of the Arctic National Park higher on my to-do list. In it, two septuagenarians set off on a three-week canoe trip down the Noatak River, a river the park staff tells us "drains the largest mountain-ringed river basin in America that is still virtually unaffected by human activities."

Far from the official "Ring of Fire," there are older, now extinct, chains of volcanoes to be explored in the National Park System.

One of the most incredibly beautiful birds you'll find in Everglades National Park is the Purple Gallinule. Unless you see a Roseate spoonbill. Or maybe a Tri-colored heron. Or a ..., well, you get the idea. There are an amazing number of gorgeous, and more common, bird species in the park. But time is running out to easily spot many of them, as the rainy season isn't too far off.

What do you think about when you hear the words “national park”? For most, it’s likely visions of park rangers sporting knee-length khaki shorts and wide-brimmed Smokey Bear style hats. Or maybe it’s the verdant, rugged majesty of Yellowstone National Park with its geothermal wonders and grizzly bears.

The dogs were large, with pointy ears, and they appeared suddenly along the cobbled path, barking furiously. My husband Paul and I paused, then slowly crept past them as we murmured pet-friendly reassurances at their bared teeth. They jumped around a bit but did not draw nearer; all bark, no bite. A cheerful man hobbled down the path on his cane, reaffirming this in Portuguese and gestures and tone that conveyed his meaning to our linguistically challenged ears. Chuckling, he waved us on our way from the tiny stone village into a sparse forest in Portugal’s sole national park—Peneda-Gerês.

It was 50 years ago that the National Trails System was designated. Today there are 30 trails under that designation, and they range from the path followed by Lewis and Clark into history to the Captain John Smith Chesapeake National Historic Trail. Choose any one of the 19 National Historic Trails and you can walk, or paddle, into history.