Like many of our adventures, this one didn’t start exactly as planned.
Just days after graduating from the Air Force Academy, commissioning as second lieutenants, and getting married, we were preparing to begin a sixty-day honeymoon road trip across the country. The plan was simple: hitch up the camper, beat the Memorial Day traffic, and head north toward Yellowstone.
Instead, we got a phone call.
Zed’s aunt and uncle were stranded about 100 miles away with a broken-down car. The camper was unhitched, the rescue mission commenced, and by the time we returned it was too late to leave. We spent one more night in Colorado making last-minute repairs, packing forgotten items, and realizing that even the best plans are subject to change.
The next morning, we finally got underway.
Our first stop was Martin’s Cove in Wyoming. Along the way we explored Fort Casper, Bessemer Bend, Independence Rock, Devil’s Gate, and portions of the Oregon, California, and Mormon pioneer trails. Standing in places where travelers had passed more than a century before us made our own journey feel like part of something much larger than a honeymoon road trip.
At Martin’s Cove, we met a senior missionary couple whose careers mirrored our own. She had been a Force Support Officer and he had been a pilot. As newlyweds just beginning our life together, meeting a couple who had successfully navigated both military service and marriage for decades felt like an unexpected gift.
We also had the opportunity to pull a handcart along part of the same trail traveled by the Martin Handcart Company. It was one of those experiences that is difficult to describe but impossible to forget.
From there we settled into life on the road and made our way toward Yellowstone National Park.
Yellowstone quickly became one of those bucket-list destinations that somehow managed to exceed expectations. We spent the day exploring nearly every corner of the park, searching for wildlife, watching herds of bison roam freely, and wandering through Mammoth Hot Springs. Zed served as tour guide for much of the day, sharing stories and facts he remembered from previous visits.
In a bit of travel irony that would become a recurring theme throughout the trip, our camera battery died just as Old Faithful erupted. We watched the famous geyser with our own eyes but left without a single photo to prove it.
The next morning we turned east.
Crossing Wyoming and Montana, we drove through mountain passes that seemed to stretch on forever and stopped at the Little Bighorn Battlefield. We had planned to visit the Billings Temple, but sleeping later than intended and trying to stretch our honeymoon budget convinced us to keep moving.
By evening we rolled into Alzada, Montana.
Ahead of us were South Dakota, Mount Rushmore, caves to explore, concert tickets to retrieve, and nearly two months of open road.
At that point, we were simply two kids with a map, a truck, a fifth wheel, and absolutely no idea what the next sixty days would hold.
The Davies Herd 