The drive that started it all

Day 2 of our cross country drive

Some journeys begin with a map. Mine began with a handshake.

Three weeks after meeting my husband, Mark, we drove across the country together. It sounds wild—and it was. I was living in British Columbia at the time and had returned home to Ontario for a visit. My brother had found me a car and fixed it up, and I needed to drive it back out west. While catching up with a friend, a man with a five o’clock shadow (which I’ve always found charming) walked into the room. He introduced himself as Mark, sat down with my friend’s boyfriend, and I went back to my conversation.

Then he overheard me talking about my need for a co-pilot for the long drive west. Without hesitation, he said, “I’ll come with you!”

I looked at him, amused and slightly incredulous. “I’ll let you know, thanks,” I replied, channeling my inner Cher from Clueless: “As if!”

But life has a funny way of surprising you.

After that day, Mark reached out. We went on our first date a few days later, and from that moment on, we were inseparable. It felt like we had known each other forever. When the time came for me to leave, we decided to take the leap—together.

That drive was the beginning of everything.

We traveled through the United States, taking in the ever-changing scenery and making memories that would last a lifetime. Our first night, we drove straight to Wisconsin Dells, checking into a hotel at 2 a.m. The next morning, we walked across the street to a McDonald’s that looked like a log cabin—easily the most beautiful McDonald’s we’d ever seen.

From there, we ventured into the Badlands of South Dakota. We nearly spent the night in the car, but luck was on our side—we found a hotel just five minutes before the office closed. The Badlands felt like stepping into another world, as if a dinosaur might wander across the road at any moment.

We drove through the Black Hills, stood in awe before Mount Rushmore, and headed north through Wyoming into Montana—where we’re pretty sure we drove through a tornado. The rain came sideways, the car shook, and water seeped through the doors. Mark kept his backpack within arm’s reach “in case you kick me out in the middle of nowhere,” he joked. But he never needed it.

In Butte, Montana, we forgot it was July 4th and nearly slept in the car again. After a few tries, we found a room. Our final stretch took us through Idaho and Washington State, where the mountain views and sparkling lakes took our breath away. It was a drive I’d do again in a heartbeat.

Four years later, we were married.

That trip taught me something profound: travel isn’t just about the destination—it’s about the connection, the spontaneity, and the stories you collect along the way. Since then, Mark and I have built a life centered around exploration. We’ve made it our mission to travel with our children, to show them the world, and to instill in them the same sense of wonder and adventure that brought us together.

As a travel agent, I bring that same spirit to every journey I help plan. I believe in the magic of the unexpected, the beauty of the open road, and the power of saying “yes” to adventure—even when it comes from someone you just met. Because sometimes, the best stories begin with a simple, “I’ll come with you.”