Four Months on the Road: What This Adventure Is Already Teaching Us

Four months, thousands of miles, three kids, and a lot more growth than I expected

Four months ago, we pulled away from home and started something that still sounded a little crazy when we said it out loud.

We were going to spend a year traveling around the country with our three kids.

We packed our life into a motorhome, hooked up the 4Runner, said goodbye to friends and family, and started driving.

At that point, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what this year was going to be about.

National parks.

Hiking.

Seeing the country.

Spending time together.

Giving our kids experiences they might remember for the rest of their lives.

And four months in, we've certainly done all of that.

We've stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon.

Walked beneath the towering walls of Zion.

Hiked through the hoodoos of Bryce.

Explored the red rocks of Arches.

Got soaked in Rocky Mountain National Park.

Fished mountain lakes and rivers.

Watched the Tetons rise above the water.

Sat in bison jams in Yellowstone.

And finished this first stretch surrounded by the mountains of Glacier.

We've seen more in four months than I sometimes know how to process.

But sitting at home now, taking a break before we begin the next stretch of our year, I've realized something.

The places aren't what I think about first.

It's everything that happened in between.

Watching Our Kids Grow

This might be my favorite part of the entire trip so far.

I've watched all three of our kids change.

Not dramatically overnight.

But little by little.

Adventure by adventure.

Hudson has become more confident in what he's capable of.

Watching him hike Angels Landing was one of those moments when I realized just how much he's growing up. He has taken on difficult hikes, learned new skills, spent countless hours fishing with Jessie, and started learning to fly fish.

I've watched him become a leader when younger kids are around and become increasingly willing to try things that might have intimidated him before.

Then there's Macie.

One of my favorite things has been watching her discover paddleboarding.

It started as something fun to try.

Then she kept wanting to do it.

Every time she paddled farther out, she'd look back toward shore to make sure we were watching.

And slowly, I started realizing that what I was watching wasn't just a little girl getting better at paddleboarding.

I was watching her gain confidence in herself.

She's also become such a helper on this trip. When friends and family join us, she naturally gravitates toward helping with the younger kids. She's finding her place in this adventure in her own way.

And then there's Lincoln.

Our little guy just keeps going.

He hikes.

He fishes.

He explores.

He swims.

He looks for animals.

He makes a new campground his backyard every few days.

After spending so much time traveling through the desert, I'll never forget getting back into thick trees and hearing him tell us it felt like home.

He's adapted to this life in a way that has surprised me.

Sometimes I think adults decide what kids can handle before ever giving them the chance to try.

These four months have made me question that more and more.

Our kids are capable of a lot.

Jessie and Me

A year on the road sounds adventurous.

And it is.

But it's also five people living in a motorhome.

There is work.

School.

Laundry.

Meals.

Grocery shopping.

RV problems.

Driving days.

Kids arguing.

Plans changing.

People getting tired.

And two parents trying to keep everything moving.

Jessie and I have had hard days.

We've gotten frustrated.

We've been exhausted.

We've had plans completely fall apart.

But we've also gotten something that is becoming increasingly rare in normal life.

Time together.

A lot of it.

We've watched sunrises.

Sat around campfires.

Driven thousands of miles.

Watched our kids accomplish things together.

Changed plans together.

Solved problems together.

And experienced some of the most beautiful places we've ever seen standing beside each other.

Four months in, I'm incredibly grateful that he's the person I'm doing this with.

The People Became Part of the Adventure

When we planned this trip, I spent a lot of time thinking about where we would go.

I didn't realize how much the people who met us along the way would become part of the story.

Barrie and Keri coming to Zion.

Spending time with longtime friends in Fort Collins and then having them continue part of the journey with us.

My parents and Aunt Tracy meeting us in Yellowstone.

The kids opening a car door after months away and screaming “SHELBY!” when they realized their cousin had made the long trip to surprise them.

Then family surprising the kids again in Glacier.

I'll never forget Macie seeing them get out of the car and yelling:

“MAGGIE! GIDEON!”

Lincoln running over for a giant hug.

Hudson looking at Jessie and me completely confused about how we had pulled it off.

I couldn't put those moments on an itinerary.

And somehow they've become some of my favorite parts of the entire trip.

I'm learning that the place matters.

But who is standing there with you matters more.

I'm Learning to Let Go of the Plan

This one is still a work in progress.

I love a plan.

I like knowing where we're going, when we're leaving, what we're doing, where we're parking, how long the hike will take, and preferably what we're doing afterward.

Traveling for four months with three kids has challenged that approximately one thousand times.

Weather changes.

Parking lots fill.

Kids get tired.

Someone gets sick.

A trail takes longer than expected.

Something breaks.

A shuttle has a ridiculous wait.

Sometimes everyone simply needs a day at the campground.

I'm learning that planning is still valuable.

It helps us do a lot of what we're doing.

But I'm also learning that the plan isn't the trip.

Some of our favorite memories have happened because something didn't go according to plan.

I'm learning to slow down.

To stop trying to see everything.

To recognize when everyone has had enough.

And to trust that changing the plan doesn't mean we failed.

For someone like me, that might be one of the bigger lessons of this entire year.

The Kids Probably Won't Remember What I Expected

We've taken our kids to some incredible places.

But ask them what they remember and you don't always get the famous viewpoint.

You get:

The ice cream.

The fish.

The campground.

The bison walking beside the car.

Their cousin surprising them.

Swimming in a lake.

A funny thing someone said.

Riding bikes.

A campfire.

A Junior Ranger badge.

Macie might remember paddleboarding more than a famous overlook.

Hudson might remember fishing with Jessie more than a scenic drive.

Lincoln might remember sitting beside the road watching bighorn sheep more than whatever mountain was behind them.

At first, I think I wanted to make sure they remembered the places.

Now I'm realizing:

I don't get to choose which memories matter to them.

And that's okay.

We've Seen God Everywhere

Before we left, I knew we'd see God's creation.

How could we not?

We've stood beneath enormous mountains.

Looked into the Grand Canyon.

Walked through desert arches.

Watched waterfalls pour down mountainsides.

Seen alpine lakes so clear you can see every rock beneath the water.

Watched wildlife roam through places that still feel wild.

There have been countless moments when I've looked around and thought:

How incredible is our God?

But four months in, I'm starting to realize I've seen His light in places beyond the landscapes.

I've seen it in my marriage.

In our kids growing.

In friends showing up.

In family driving across states to spend a few days with us.

In plans that didn't work.

In hard days that required more patience and grace.

In quiet mornings at camp.

In a kid catching a fish.

In five of us sitting around a fire at the end of another day.

God's light hasn't only been shining from the mountaintops.

It's been shining through the ordinary parts of this trip too.

I've Changed Too

I expected our kids to grow this year.

I don't know if I thought as much about how I would.

Four months in, I'm learning to loosen my grip a little.

I'm learning that we don't need to see everything.

I'm learning that a slow day isn't a wasted day.

I'm learning that our kids are capable of more than I sometimes give them credit for.

I'm learning that hard doesn't mean bad.

I'm learning that plans can change and the day can still be wonderful.

I'm learning to appreciate where we are instead of immediately thinking about where we're going next.

And I'm learning how valuable this time together really is.

Our kids won't be these ages again.

Hudson won't always be nine.

Macie won't always be discovering this new confidence in herself.

Lincoln won't always be our little guy trying to keep up with everyone.

This season is temporary.

And four months in, I can already feel how quickly it's moving.

We Didn't Leave Home to Escape Our Life

I think this is important.

We're not spending a year traveling because we hated our life at home.

We have people we love.

A home we love coming back to.

Jobs and responsibilities.

A community.

This wasn't about running away.

It was about saying yes to something we knew we might never get another opportunity to do in quite the same way.

And now that we're home for a short break, I'm even more grateful for both sides of it.

I'm excited to see friends.

Spend time with family.

Reset.

Recharge.

Catch up.

Let everyone breathe for a little while.

And then?

I'm excited to go again.

Four Months Down. Eight Months to Go.

That's probably the strangest thing about writing this.

We've done so much that sometimes it feels like we've already been gone forever.

But we're only four months into a year.

There is still so much ahead of us.

More states.

More national parks.

More hikes.

More campgrounds.

More fishing.

More people to see.

More things that will probably break.

More sibling arguments.

More plans that will change.

More hard days.

And hopefully a whole lot more moments we don't even know are coming yet.

I don't know what I'll think when I sit down and write this again at the end of the year.

Maybe some of the things that feel important right now won't seem nearly as important then.

Maybe something that happens during the next eight months will completely change how I look back at these first four.

That's part of what makes this year so special.

We're still in the middle of the story.

Four months ago, I thought this trip was going to be about showing our kids America.

And it is.

But somewhere along the way, I started realizing something else.

I think God is using it to show me a lot too.

About my kids.

About my marriage.

About myself.

About what matters.

About slowing down.

About saying yes to things that feel a little crazy.

And about how much can happen when you stop waiting for the perfect time and simply go.

Four months down.

Eight months still ahead.

And right now, more than anything, I just feel grateful.

Grateful that we said yes.

-Kayla