In Loving Memory of a Dream that Came and Went
A rocky start. A bumpy ending. An incredible year together on the road.
written in July/August 2026
Everywhere, USA, from June 2025 - June 2026
“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten… You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders for you.” Joel 2:25a, 26
Rain falls from the rooftop of our house onto the garden below. After a year on the road we are officially back in our own home, own beds.
The time has come to put the trip into words, and the very thought sends a tear down my cheek.
Because after some 17 years of dreaming and planning, I don’t know what to do with this dream now that it is past-tense. Now that our collection of photos is finalized. Now that all that remains from this grand undertaking is memories.
What do you do with a dream that comes true and then ends?
From The Liberty Bell to the Olympic Peninsula, from the sea caves of Guam to final sunsets in Key West—and everything in between— our family had an adventurous, sometimes rocky, often mesmerizing 12 months on the road.
We began the trip in Philadelphia, home of our government’s historic beginnings. We would soon, and continually, be reminded how short our nation’s 250-year history is compared to the history of the lands it governs.
In New York we explored the tip of a Finger Lake (fingertip?). In Ohio we rested.
At Sleeping Bear Dunes, we jumped in the turquoise waves of Lake Michigan. We biked the 8-mile perimeter of storybook Mackinac Island, discovering the glory of Northern Michigan in summertime.
In both Wisconsin and Minnesota, locals welcomed us onto their boats. We stepped off each deck with lasting lessons about welcoming a stranger.
From Minnesota our pontoon crossed the border into Canada, where we canoed across a secret lake. In an unassuming state park, we hopped across the humble beginnings of the Mississippi River.
During a North Dakota sunset, we fell in love with a place we didn’t know existed. (Pro tip: never skip Theodore Roosevelt National Park.)
In the Badlands, we discovered 30-million-year-old oreodont (land mammal) fossils. In Wyoming, we walked around the base of Devil’s Tower, gazing up and up and up.
In South Dakota, we rock-climbed the gritty face of granite slabs near Mount Rushmore. A local church youth group shared their ropes and included us like we were friends all along. Nate turned nine in the Wind Cave.
In Colorado, we sledded down Great Sand Dunes. In Mesa Verde, we were transfixed by seep springs, the lifeblood of ancestral Puebloan communities throughout the Southwest. In the Black Canyon, we stared mortality in the face peering over vertical canyon cliffs that rise more than 2000’ from the Gunnison River that carved them.
In the Tetons, we floated 12 miles of the Snake River on paddleboards, exchanging summer crowds for sunny solitude.
In Yellowstone we had the best fishing days of our lives. We celebrated our 20th anniversary in Lamar Valley spotting grizzlies and wolves.
At the Station Foundation in Bozeman, we prepared guest rooms and grounds for the next cohort of service members. I had a too-close encounter with a bear 😳. And Nick’s active duty service officially concluded!
In Glacier, we hiked the heights, each trail leading to a glacial payoff. With family at our side, we inhaled the incredible scenery.
We rode Seattle’s Ferris wheel above the Puget Sound, spotting mountain ranges of all three national parks in Washington State from one sky-high viewpoint.
In North Cascades, we traveled dirt roads, hiked to the Sahale Glacier, and feasted on wild blueberries.
In the Olympic Peninsula, we reunited with dear friends and hiked through our country’s only rain forest.
At sunset on the Oregon Coast, we stargazed at purple sea stars in a full moon’s low tide, giddy with the luck of our timing
On the California coast, we wandered amidst sky-high redwood trees that began growing here centuries before Jesus walked the earth.
Shaking hands with the first winter storm of the year, we threw snowballs into deep blue Crater Lake.
In Utah we hopscotched from Arches to Canyonlands to Goblin Valley to Capitol Reef to beautiful Bryce, then summited Angel’s Landing. We fell in love with a campground in Zion Canyon, transfixed by the Watchman’s glow.
In Death Valley we sweated below sea level and skipped across salt flats.
An impending storm meant rescheduling our Grand Canyon visit. We went four days earlier, and the night we arrived at the South Rim, we were greeted unbelievably by the scarlet aura of Northern Lights on a star-filled, moonless night. Our baby girl hiked 20.5 miles down to the Colorado River and back in a day—her longest hike of the trip.
In the Arizona desert, the colors of the Petrified Forest captivated us, while the personalities of desert plants amused us.
In the stone heaps of Joshua Tree, we watched a full moon rise over Skull Rock at sunset.
In SoCal we relaxed and surfed and visited with family and dear friends in this beloved former duty station.
In the Sierras we sledded down snowy hillsides in Sequoia and hiked through deep snow to the top of Upper Yosemite Falls.
In Yosemite, a volunteer park ranger loaned Sadie and Nick a pair of Yaktrax so they could summit Half Dome—an epic feat any time of year, but especially in snow and when the cables are down.
In Monterey, we explored tide pools at sunset, revisiting favorite places with my sister and friends.
In Pinnacles we hiked the High Peaks and crawled below boulders in a talus cave.
In Guam the colorful coral gardens of Apra Harbor and the Philippine Sea became our playground. On land our church family welcomed us with open arms leaving lasting lessons of hospitality.
In three visits to the Bay Area, we relived our Stanford Days linking up with my sister and friends—an epic reunion on all counts.
In Tahoe and Park City, the kids skied right past me from greens to blacks. After a month of skiing, they asked when we can ski again.
The Watchman called us back to Zion, where friends old and new awaited us fireside.
We snaked through the desert from Arizona to Utah to New Mexico, stopping along the way at Monument Valley and Four Corners. In Alamogordo we slid down the dunes of White Sands and lived like locals, soccer practice and all.
Just when we thought we’d seen it all, Carlsbad Caverns had us gazing up in absolute wonder.
We wrapped up the last RV chapter of the trip in Texas. Guadalupe Mountains and Big Bend national parks completely reframed how we think about the state where Nick and I first met.
We recharged along the Frio River. In Austin and Houston we feasted with family and friends, unsuspecting the unfortunate shift to come.
In Mount Pleasant, Texas, we lost our home on wheels to frame damage. We packed up our belongings and said an untimely goodbye to our beloved home on wheels. (While super disappointing, we remain so grateful no one was hurt and that this happened 18 miles from an RV repair shop—and not in some remote desert.)
U-haul in tow, we limped through Hot Springs and Great Smoky Mountains.
We salvaged abbreviated friend visits in Mississippi, Georgia, and North Carolina, while wearily winding our way home.
I still can’t believe we were given a U-Haul with Virginia Beach on its side.
After a week at my parents’ house, one last push brought us to Florida for the Everglades, Biscayne Bay, and Dry Tortugas national parks—along with Legoland laughs and a precious visit with Nick’s 94-year-old grandfather.
On our last stop, my parents and sister met us in Key West for final reflections of the cross-country trip and year away.
After a year away and a month in limbo, we were ready to be home. We soaked up final days against a backdrop of sky-painting sunsets.
Through it all we were we. Our family, together.
And so when someone asks what is my favorite part of the trip, it was exactly this.
We spent an entire year all together. We effectively kidnapped our kids for one year of their childhoods spending sacred moments in epic places.
We didn’t do everything together. In close quarters, we didn’t always get along. And not everyone always wanted to be there. It wasn’t perfect, I promise you that.
But for almost every day of an entire year, our military family that has spent so many weeks and months apart was together.
In Joel 2:25 God promises, “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten.”
On this side of the trip, I feel that restoration in my heart. A sense of wholeness. A knitting back together. A clean slate from which to move forward.
And so, a new chapter begins for our family. Which brings me back to this question: What do you do when a dream comes true and then ends?
You gush and you glow. You remember and you grieve. You surround yourself with pictures and make up excuses to slip memories in to everyday life.
And slowly, ever so gently, you let yourself begin to dream again.
Goodbye road trip. We miss you already!
To All Who Made it Possible
This epic yearlong trip would not have been possible without the help and back-end support of many. My parents were hugely instrumental in logistics of packing, being gone, receiving our mail, and hosting us and the kids between homes. It is not lost on me what a gift it is to be midlife and still receiving so much love and care from my mom and dad.
Several friends from past and present churches hosted us when we were away from the trailer. Thanks to the Johnsons, Hutapeas, Moores, Davises, and the Station Foundation for sharing your beautiful places with us. Thanks to Nick’s parents, my parents, the Sabins and the Glomskis for welcoming us into your homes during our weary traveler era. We were not at our best and appreciated your generosity immensely.
Thanks to all of you who have followed along, cheered us on, and prayed for our journey. We felt those prayers, especially when the happy surprises were out of this world, the worst-case scenarios missed us completely, and the lows we experienced were navigable.
One of the best parts of the trip was sharing stories and pictures with our community of family and friends, along with the new friends we’ve met along the way.
That is not just the best part of a trip, but also the best part of any day. One of the hardest parts of the trip was being without community, feeling like strangers, disconnected from seeing familiar faces regularly.
Truly, the greatest joy in life is the people we share it with. In meeting us here, you have enhanced the joy of this long-awaited experience beyond measure. I hope our paths cross again soon and we can share stories from the road and beyond.
With love and endless thanks,
Nick, Peyton, Sadie & Nate
Roberts on the Road
For those just finding us, hello! Inspired by the Year of Jubilee in Leviticus 25, our family is on a yearlong RV road trip in 2025-2026 to celebrate my husband’s retirement after 20 years in Naval Special Warfare, as well as our 24 years together during the ups and downs of it all.
With our 12-year-old daughter and 9-year-old son in tow, this trip to explore America’s national parks and beautiful places is intended to help our family reflect and reset as civilian life begins.
Sign up below to receive updates about the trip, along with stories, photos, and reflections from 24 years of military service. We look forward to keeping in touch on this epic adventure.
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For background info on who we are and where we’re traveling, we’d love for you to read the intro post. The full list of road trip blog posts can be found here. Thanks for stopping by!
