Best motorcycle routes in America……You ever ride so far that your butt forgets what a seat feels like and your face gets stuck in a perma-grin from the wind and maybe also the sheer number of bugs you’ve caught in your teeth?
Yeah. That’s when you know you’re on one of the best motorcycle routes in America.
I’ve been down gravel goat-trails that swore they were “scenic byways,” through towns where the only gas pump looked like it came from a Fallout game, and across mountain passes that made me yell “WOOOOOO” into my helmet for no reason at all. This isn’t some perfect travel brochure list. This is the real-deal ride journal of a human who probably needs more sunscreen and definitely fewer gas station burritos.
So buckle your chin strap, friend—here’s my personal, messy, unapologetically biased list of motorcycle rides in the U.S. that hit different.
1. Blue Ridge Parkway, Virginia to North Carolina
(a.k.a. “The Ride Where I Almost Adopted a Black Bear Cub—accidentally”)
Listen, if heaven had a two-lane road, it’d look like the Blue Ridge Parkway. You got these silky, twisty roads that roll through the Smoky Mountains like some asphalt ribbon made by the gods of torque. No stoplights. No billboards. Just 469 miles of aaaaahh.
I remember pulling off at an overlook, eating beef jerky with my helmet still on like a true savage, and then this tiny black bear cub waddled across the lot.
Pro tip: Avoid weekends unless you love following people doing 25 in a minivan. And always gas up when you can, not when you want to.
2. Pacific Coast Highway, California
(a.k.a. “The Ride I Fell in Love With My Bike Again—And Also With Fish Tacos”)
You ever ride a road so beautiful it makes your eyeballs hurt a little? That’s Highway 1. Cliffs dropping straight into the Pacific, redwoods so tall you feel like a bug, curves that’ll make your palms sweat (in a good way).
The stretch from Monterey to Morro Bay? Chef’s kiss. Somewhere around Big Sur I pulled over, took my helmet off, and just breathed. I mean I also had a small emotional breakdown, but like, a good one? Like “oh wow I’m alive” kind of moment.
Also—side note—if you ever find a roadside shack near Santa Barbara that sells fish tacos… just stop. Doesn’t matter what your GPS says.
Pro tip: Watch for tourists pulling over without using blinkers. Or brains.
3. Tail of the Dragon, Tennessee/North Carolina Border
(a.k.a. “318 Curves in 11 Miles, and Zero Room for Ego”)
Look. If you think you can ride, this road will definitely let you know the truth.
I came in way too cocky. I left humble, sweaty, and with a newfound respect for physics.
The Tail of the Dragon is infamous for a reason. It’s tight. It’s technical. It doesn’t care how cool your leathers are. But man, if you like adrenaline with a side of “holy crap,” this one is top-tier.
Also—there’s a literal tree covered in busted bike parts. Like a cautionary Pinterest board of poor decisions.
Pro tip: Don’t go full-send on the first run. Warm up. Respect the curves. And for the love of oil changes, check your tires.
4. Beartooth Highway, Montana/Wyoming
(a.k.a. “The Ride Where I Screamed Into the Wind Like a Viking”)
Okay, full honesty: I cried a little at the top.
Not like a sobbing, drama-queen cry. More like… your soul gets slapped in the face with too much beauty and it leaks out of your eyeballs?
That’s Beartooth.
You’re at nearly 11,000 feet. You see snow in July. The switchbacks look like something out of an action movie chase scene. And the air? It’s like Mother Nature went through a Brita filter and added a hint of pine.
I had a thermos of coffee that tasted like victory. Also, my fingers were kinda frozen. Worth it.
Pro tip: Ride it east to west for the best views. And bring layers. Mountain weather is chaotic-neutral.
5. The Texas Hill Country Twisted Sisters (Ranch Roads 335, 336, 337)
(a.k.a. “The Ride That Made Me Google ‘How to Move to Texas’)
Don’t sleep on Texas, y’all.
The “Twisted Sisters” are three ranch roads that do not mess around. The elevation changes and sweepers are just… juicy. And if you hit them in spring, the wildflowers legit look fake. Like someone Photoshopped them onto reality.
Also, there’s something about small-town BBQ and worn-out cowboy hats that just hits right after 100 miles of throttle therapy.
I met an old guy named Joe at a gas stop. He said, “Nice bike,” then handed me a peach from his farm. I still think about that peach.
6. Going-to-the-Sun Road, Glacier National Park, Montana
(a.k.a. “The Road That Made Me Stop Talking for 30 Minutes”)
It’s only open for a short window (thanks, snow), but when it is? You go, ride and shut up and stare.
Waterfalls just…falling outta cliffs. Glaciers winking in the sun. Wild goats that give zero cares about traffic.
I rode it early in the morning, visor cracked to hear the wind. Zero cars. Just me, my bike, and one aggressively photogenic landscape. And yes, I forgot to breathe a few times.
BONUS: Route 66 (The Quirky, Sentimental, Kinda Weird Ride)
Okay, hear me out—Route 66 isn’t about riding fast or technical mastery. It’s about vibes. You’ll see neon signs from the ‘50s, rusty gas stations, giant fiberglass cowboys, and diners that serve coffee so strong your ancestors will wake up.
It’s nostalgia on two wheels. Like riding through an old postcard. https://bikelovezone.com/motorcycle-road-trips/.
I rode it solo once with nothing but a saddlebag and an old playlist. Sang every word to Tom Petty at least twice.
🧭 Final Thoughts about best motorcycle routes in America
So there you go. That’s my list of the best motorcycle routes in America—not some corporate brochure nonsense, but places where I’ve actually gotten sunburned and slightly lost and overwhelmed in the best way.
Could I list more? Sure. But I also gotta eat something that’s not jerky today.
Got a route I absolutely missed and should feel shame about? Let me know. I’ll add it to the next ride list (and probably ignore Google Maps again).
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