Buffalo, Bunkhouses, and the BEST Salt Water Taffy—Our Stay in Liberty, Utah

After chasing geysers, bison (unsuccessfully), and the perfect campground view, we rolled Mosey III into Liberty, Utah—home to our wonderful longtime friends, Maureen and Steve. Nestled in the mountains, their gorgeous hillside home is like a postcard but with better hospitality. Mosey cozied up for a few days in their roomy circular driveway, and we got to do the best thing ever: hang out with people we’ve known forever and eat food we didn’t have to cook ourselves.

Now, let’s talk dogs. Lots of dogs. Their pack includes a mix of beloved rescues and a rotating cast of pet-sitting guests, making their home feel like a canine version of summer camp. Each pup had its own personality, quirks, and mealtime drama—and we loved every second of it.

Our local adventures kicked off with a trip to Gardner Village, a charming little cluster of shops where we may or may not have sampled every flavor of salt water taffy. (Pro tip: the caramel one is life-changing. No notes.) The whole place looks like it was built specifically for wandering, window shopping, and saying things like “Should we get this? We should get this.”

Then came redemption: Antelope Island State Park. After our infamous bison-less trip to Yellowstone, the wildlife gods finally smiled upon us. Herds of bison? Check. Antelope prancing like they were auditioning for a nature documentary? Check. Coyotes giving us side-eye from a safe distance? Also check. It was like the animal kingdom threw us a makeup party.

While there, we explored Fielding Garr Ranch, a preserved mid-1800s ranch complete with a farmhouse, bunkhouse, vintage farm equipment, and animal corrals. Wandering the ranch felt like stepping into a time capsule—if the people back then had dust allergies and wore a lot of denim. Still, it was rustic, beautiful, and full of that “why does this smell like history?” charm.

But as fun as the outings were, the real highlight was sharing laughs, meals, and stories with Maureen and Steve. It’s not every day you get to catch up with people who knew you before your Airstream days and still agree to let you park in their driveway. ❤️

Yellowstone: Geysers, Ghost Bison & Horsing Around

There’s nothing quite like entering Yellowstone National Park and being greeted by the raw power of Old Faithful letting off some steam—literally. She put on a perfectly timed show, erupting like clockwork as tourists (us included) stood around nervously clutching cell phone cameras. Humans were amazed. Wildlife not so much. 🐿️

After the show, we wandered the nearby village, soaked in the scenery, and even bought an over-priced souvenir or two (because who doesn’t need huckleberry soda and a magnet shaped like a geyser?). We spent the entire day in the park marveling at its beauty, but somehow managed to pull off the impossible: not a single bison sighting. That’s right. Nada. Zero. Zilch. We began to question if they were all on a union break.

We did, however, see plenty of signs warning us about bison. Signs that said things like “Don’t approach the wildlife” and “Bison are not your friends”—which felt slightly rude considering we weren’t even given the chance to be rejected by one. But fear not, our bison (and bonus antelope) redemption came a few days later. Stay tuned for that plot twist.

For our stay, we were parked at Red Rock RV Resort, just 20 miles from Yellowstone’s west entrance. Tucked into a picturesque valley surrounded by mountains, this spot was a dream. Bonus points for having a special Airstream-only area with extra amenities. We didn’t stay in the Airstream portion of the park, but dropped by for a friendly hello.

And then there was the trail ride. Oh, the trail ride. We signed up for a 2-hour evening horseback adventure that turned out to be pure magic. Even Joel, who usually prefers his horsepower in vehicle form, saddled up! We were told that my horse and Joel’s horse were besties, which might explain why they stayed glued together like middle schoolers on a field trip. We rode through winding trails, splashy streams, and around a serene lake—pretending to be outdoorsy types while secretly just trying not to fall off or sacrifice a phone to the wilderness.

All in all, our Yellowstone adventure was everything we hoped for—minus, you know, the actual bison. But we like to think they were just playing hard to get.

Stay tuned, because the bison will make an appearance…eventually.

Mining Towns & Mozzarella: Our Journey from Seattle to Yellowstone

We packed up in Seattle with a freshly replenished supply of Rainier cherries—nature’s candy and now our favorite road trip essential. The weather was perfect, and the truck had just gotten a fresh tire rotation, oil and fluids change, ready to take on the Cascade Mountains with Mosey III’s big ol’ backside trailing faithfully behind.

Our weekend stop in Coeur d’Alene was the perfect mid-journey reset. Picture sparkling lake views, forested backdrops, and a town so charming it made us seriously consider buying matching paddleboards and fully committing to a lifestyle of flannel, log furniture and Saturday kayaking. We didn’t (yet), but we did stretch our legs, breathe in that alpine air, and momentarily forget what day it was. 

Butte, Montana: We Dig It (Literally)

From there, we rolled into Butte, MT—home of the World Museum of Mining, and I am a bit surprised when I tell you it was better than we expected. Built on the site of a former copper mine, this museum is equal parts history, grit, and “what did they use THAT for?!” It has a massive old mine shaft, rusty mining equipment that looks like it belongs in a steampunk music video, and an impressively detailed Old West town that makes you feel like you’re in a Clint Eastwood movie… if Clint carried a selfie stick and a sensible sun hat.

We climbed to the top of the headframe (the giant mine elevator tower thingy) for a panoramic view. Worth it. Not just for the scenery, but for the bragging rights. We now refer to it as “that time we basically scaled a mountain, but with handrails.” 

Virginia City/Nevada City: Cowboys, Parking Perils, and Pizza Perfume

Next stop: Virginia City and Nevada City—real, living Old West towns where history and modern life shake hands over a good slice of pizza. We had just intended to walk through town and maybe grab a cold drink, but the smell of roasted garlic and hot, bubbly cheese hit us like a cartoon smoke cloud with arms. It literally pulled us off the boardwalk and into a saloon-style pizzeria where we made short work of a pizza pie and drooled over huckleberry ice cream floats.  While enjoying our meal we half expect someone to burst through swinging saloon doors yelling, “There’s gold in them thar hills!”

RV Life: Winding Roads and Parking Woes

Now let’s take a moment to talk about driving a 25-foot Airstream plus a tow vehicle through winding mountain roads. It’s kind of like playing slow-motion Grand Theft Auto while steering a parade float through a maze. Every curve—especially the ones where someone decides to pass on a blind corner—feels like a trust fall with gravity. And every successful parking attempt? A small but deeply satisfying triumph, like parallel parking a whale… in front of an audience.

Backing the Airstream into tight parking spots has become a couples’ sport—equal parts communication exercise and public performance art. There were hand signals. There was shouting. There may have been applause from casual observers when we nailed it on the third (or maybe fourth) try.

Next Destination: Red Rock RV Park—Just Outside Yellowstone

We’ve now landed at Red Rock RV Park, nestled in a beautiful valley just outside the west entrance of Yellowstone National Park. We’re surrounded by wildflowers, mountain air, and the gentle hum of other travelers trying to remember if they packed bear spray or just more granola bars.

Next up: Yellowstone, where geysers shoot sky-high, wildlife roams free, and we do our best to keep Millie from making friends with a bison. It’s going to be explosive—in the best way.

Until next time, keep following the Silver Lining—preferably with a decent cell signal, a GPS that doesn’t think gravel goat paths are scenic shortcuts, and someone patient enough to help you back into a campsite that was clearly designed for a tent.

The Great Southwest Blur: From Gumbo to Guacamole

We’re currently a little under two weeks deep into our 3-month cross-country road trip, and our latest chapter could best be described as: “Just Keep Driving.”

This particular leg? A 400-miles-a-day dash across Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. Why? Because we had to be selective with our time—this is a marathon, not a sightseeing sprint—and frankly, we’re saving our oohs and aahs for Southern California sunshine and beach tacos.

Also: Millie.

Millie, our sweet little trooper, is still in recovery mode, so we’re on a tight loop of drive, potty breaks, hydrate, Millie’s meds, repeat. We’re now roadside comfort specialists—just without the pay, benefits, or fancy title. But hey, at least we can now tell if a gas station bathroom has soap before emotionally committing. (Pro tip: if the key is attached to a hubcap or a canoe paddle, keep driving.)

We’re blazing through state lines like we’re leveling up in some weird geography simulator—every detour just adds to the challenge rating. Think Mario Kart, but with more road work and fewer banana peels. 

Louisiana was all about humidity, jazz, and not stopping for beignets (regret level: medium-high).

Texas was long. Like, really long. Like, “are we in a time loop?” long. We swear we passed the same Buc-ee’s three times.

New Mexico has us flirting with alien abduction just to shake up the monotony.

Arizona: come for the cacti, stay because your tires are melting into the pavement and you physically can’t leave.

Let it be known: on previous road trips we spent plenty of time in these amazing states. But for now, the mission is speed—tempered with lots of breaks because, again, Millie needs her TLC (and frankly, so do we).

It may not be glamorous, but hey—turns out all you need for road warrior success is caffeine, decent story narration, and the blind optimism of people who forgot how big Texas is.

So onward to Southern California—land of In-N-Out burgers, surfboards, and the kind of sunsets that will definitely make it onto our blog if we can get a break from the infamous June gloom.

We’ll check in again soon—hopefully with fewer miles behind us and a little more beach in front of us.

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