by Missie Hills | Mar 24, 2026 | North America
After the stillness and vastness of Death Valley, Joshua Tree felt like stepping into a completely different kind of desert story. One with a lot of personality.
We rented the coziest little house in the town of Joshua Tree, tucked away just enough to feel secluded, but still close to everything. It didn’t take long before we realized we weren’t the only ones calling it home for the week. A small rabbit made regular appearances nearby, along with his roadrunner buddy. It was quiet in that very specific desert way. Still, but alive.
We spent two full days inside Joshua Tree National Park, and it didn’t take long to understand why people are drawn here. This park is a playground. Massive boulders stacked in ways that feel almost impossible, just waiting to be climbed. The kids scrambled up, over, and around them without hesitation, turning every stop into a new kind of adventure. It’s no surprise this place is considered a haven for rock climbers. Every formation feels like an open invitation. There was even a small oasis to explore, with tiny hummingbirds fluttering about.
And then there are the trees. The Joshua trees themselves are what give the park its name, but they’re more than just a visual signature. These unique, spiky silhouettes are actually a type of yucca, and they only grow in a very specific ecosystem within the Mojave Desert. Early Mormon settlers are said to have named them, seeing their branches as outstretched arms guiding them westward. Standing among them, you can see why. They’re strange and beautiful, a little chaotic, and completely unforgettable. No two look the same. I found myself constantly stopping to take photos… of the trees, the textures, the light, the way everything felt both harsh and delicate at the same time.
One of the most memorable moments came at sunset in the Cholla Cactus Garden. As the sun dropped lower, the cholla cacti began to glow—lit up in soft gold, almost like they were holding onto the last light of the day. It felt quiet and surreal, like the entire garden was exhaling.
Even with all of that beauty, Joshua Tree had a different energy than Death Valley. It was busy. Trails were full, parking lots packed, and there was a constant hum of people moving through the park. It shifted the experience just a bit, making it feel less like solitude and more like shared discovery. Because of that, it sits a little lower on our list.
But the sunrises and sunsets? They made up for everything. Mornings came softly, lighting up the landscape in muted pastels, and evenings closed out the day in deep, warm tones that stretched across the sky. And at night, we had our own quiet again. Back at the house, we soaked in the hot tub under a sky full of stars, muscles tired from climbing and hiking. We lit the fire pit, bundled up, and just sat together. No rush, nowhere to be. Just the desert and the stillness.
Part of the fun of this park, is actually in exploring the surrounding area. The shops were exactly what you’d hope for… quirky, creative, and just a little offbeat. There were aliens everywhere, handmade goods, vintage finds… the kind of place where you don’t go looking for anything specific, but somehow leave with something memorable.
We made our way out to Pioneertown, which feels like stepping onto an old movie set—and in many ways, it is. Built in the 1940s as a live-in Old West film set, actors would film during the day and stay there at night, blending Hollywood with frontier life. It’s now home to one of the most iconic desert spots, Pappy & Harriet’s, where we stopped for a meal. Equal parts restaurant and music venue, it carries that same rugged, lived-in charm as the town itself. And then there was Sam. All over town, we kept seeing flyers: Vote for Sam for Mayor. Naturally, we were curious. Sam, it turns out, is a goat. So of course… we voted for him.
Because that’s Joshua Tree. A little unexpected. A little eccentric. Completely itself. In the end, Joshua Tree gave us something different than Death Valley. Less quiet, more character. Less isolation, more expression. It’s a place where the desert leans into its quirks, where the landscape invites you to play, and where even a simple moment… watching the light hit a cactus or sitting by a fire under the stars… feels like enough.
Until next time,
by Missie Hills | Mar 21, 2026 | North America
This past Christmas, we made a decision that felt a little unconventional… and completely right. Instead of gifts, we gave each other an experience: A journey into one of the most extreme and beautiful places in the world—Death Valley.
And from the very start, it reminded us that the best plans are often the ones you don’t fully control. We arrived on Christmas Eve just as a rare storm rolled into the valley. Death Valley, the driest national park in North America, was suddenly touched by rain… a once-in-a-lifetime kind of moment. While it shifted some of our plans, it gave us something even better: a completely different version of the desert than most ever get to see.
We started the morning at sunrise at Zabriskie Point. The clouds hung low, softening the dramatic ridgelines we had imagined, but there was something peaceful about it. A quiet start. A reminder that this trip wasn’t about perfect conditions. It was about being there.
From there, we made our way to Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America at 282 feet below sea level. Normally, it’s a vast expanse of cracked salt flats stretching endlessly in every direction. But this time, the rain had transformed it. A shallow, reflective lake had emerged across the basin, something that only happens after rare storms. It felt surreal, like the desert had briefly decided to become something else entirely.
As the weather began to clear, we hiked out to Natural Bridge, a quiet canyon where centuries of flash floods have carved out smooth rock walls and a hidden arch. Death Valley is full of these contrasts—harsh yet delicate, barren yet full of stories shaped over time.
By the afternoon, we found ourselves at Artist’s Palette, and it quickly became one of our favorite stops. The hills were streaked with soft greens, pinks, yellows, and purples—colors created by the oxidation of different metals in the rock. It looked almost painted, like someone had brushed the desert with watercolor.
We crossed the park and ended the day at the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes, which, without question, became the kids’ favorite part. They ran endlessly—up the dunes, down the dunes, over and over again… laughing, falling, climbing again. It was simple and perfect.
That evening, we leaned into the spirit of the place and had Christmas Eve dinner at the Last Kind Words Saloon, a spot that feels like it belongs to another era. Then we returned to our casita at The Ranch at Death Valley, an oasis tucked right into the heart of the park. And somehow, we made it Christmas. We decorated with paper snowflakes, a few lights, and a tiny paper tree. We drank hot chocolate, watched A Christmas Story, and wrote a note to Santa, leaving out cookies and milk like always. And guess what… he found us! The next morning, stockings were filled with hiking snacks.
We started our Christmas Day adventure with a six-mile hike through Golden Canyon. The canyon walls glowed in warm golds and oranges, shaped over millions of years by water and time. By the end, we were completely exhausted, but it felt like the best kind of gift. One earned step by step. We even spotted a coyote moving quietly through the park. A small, fleeting moment that felt like a gift in itself.
Before heading back, I made one more stop at the salt flats—this time without the rain. The second trip was well worth it, giving me even more beautiful photos of strange terrain.
Later that afternoon, we swam in the resort’s natural spring-fed pool, surrounded by palm trees and mountains. It felt almost surreal—this lush, quiet pocket of life in one of the hottest places on earth. Death Valley holds the record for the hottest temperature ever recorded on Earth, 134°F, and yet here we were, celebrating Christmas in cool air, wrapped in stillness and calm.
The next morning, we gave Zabriskie Point one more try at sunrise. And this time, it delivered. The clouds lifted just enough to reveal the full texture of the landscape and then, as if on cue, a rainbow stretched across the sky. It felt like the valley was giving us its final goodbye. We also drove up to Dante’s View, standing over 5,000 feet above the valley floor, taking in the full expanse of the park: salt flats, mountains, and all the places we had just explored. It’s one of the few places where you can truly grasp the scale of Death Valley.
Throughout the day, we explored smaller trails and learned about the park’s history: the borax industry, the famous twenty-mule teams that once hauled minerals across the desert, and the resilience it took to live and work in a place like this. At one point, we even found ourselves caught in a sandstorm, wind whipping across the valley, sand moving in waves around us. It was intense, unexpected, and strangely beautiful.
Later that evening, E and I took a quiet horseback ride through the valley, slowing everything down and taking it all in from a different perspective. We ended our last night in the simplest way, ice cream at the resort’s old-fashioned parlor.
Death Valley surprised us in every possible way. It challenged our expectations, shifted our plans, and gave us moments we could have never planned for. It’s a place of extremes, yes, but also of quiet beauty, resilience, and perspective. And now, it holds something even more meaningful for us. A Christmas we’ll never forget.
Until next time,
by Missie Hills | Dec 21, 2025 | Europe, International Adventures
After Milos captured our hearts, we took the short ferry ride over to the neighbor island of Paros to see if we could recreate the magic. As soon as we made shore, we knew Paros would be special. Almost immediately, I caught sight of my first blue dome. Something I’d dreamed of seeing after years of photos, books, and quiet imaginings of Greece. It was a small powerful moment.
After chatting with a few locals near the port, we secured our rental cars and found our condo in Naousa. A quick lunch helped reset us, and then we spent the afternoon wandering through the ruins of the Venetian Castle. Tiny crabs scurried through the water below us, sailboats bobbed nearby, and octopus hung drying on lines.
Beach time felt like the obvious next step. We chose Golden Beach, known for sun and sport, and it quickly proved worthy of its name. The light hit the sand just right, giving it a warm golden glow. We rented an umbrella, ordered drinks straight to our chairs, and settled in. Adam gave windsurfing a try and quickly learned it’s much harder than it looks. Jill and I did what we do best, combing the beach for rocks and collecting more treasures than our pockets could hold. The kids braved the cold water staying in until their little teeth were chattering. As the sun began to sink, we headed inland to find dinner. We stopped at a quiet spot in the countryside with incredible food and front row seats to the sunset.
The next morning brought something special. Every so often on our travels, I schedule a family photo shoot with a local photographer, and this year we worked with Petti through localgraphers.com. She captured our family beautifully as we wandered the white and blue pathways of Naousa. Those photos will forever hold this season of life for us.
After the shoot, we made our way to a local winery to sample the wines that have made Paros well known. The kids joined in with glasses of local orange juice, happily clinking cups alongside us.
From there, we drove into the center of the island to explore the marble quarries. Much of the marble used in the statues and structures we’d seen throughout Greece came from places just like this. We met a local at one quarry and purchased small pieces of marble. I chose two dice, simple objects that now carry a story.
Next, we wandered through the town of Lefkes. Shops, food, winding alleyways, and the joy of letting ourselves get lost. Somewhere along the way, I dropped my camera, shattering the lens filter. Thankfully, the lens itself was unharmed, but it did require that I put up the camera for the rest of the trip.
We ended the day at Kolympethres, a beach known for its unique rock formations. It was beautiful and surprisingly one of the warmest beaches we visited on the trip. Ethan found a rock to jump from, which immediately made it his favorite stop.
That night, we had dinner right on the water, savoring the final moments of our Greek island adventure.
Paros felt balanced and grounded, full of beauty without trying too hard. A place of light, stone, and simple joys, and the perfect way to close this chapter of the journey.
Until next time,
by Missie Hills | Dec 19, 2025 | Europe, International Adventures
Our time in Milos began on the water. We boarded a ferry and splurged on VIP seats, which thankfully helped me manage the inevitable seasickness. The open viewing deck helped as well, as did watching island after island pass by. With each one, our anticipation grew. Then Milos appeared. White buildings stacked along the shoreline, glowing against the deep blue sea. It was the kind of arrival that already felt like a reward.
Once docked, reality set in. We navigated the usual rental car chaos, brushed up on how to drive a stick shift, and nearly found ourselves stranded in a sheep field while trying to locate the house. Divorce was narrowly avoided. Somehow, we made it. The house was worth every wrong turn. Perched high above the sea, it was peaceful, stunning, and instantly grounding.
We were starving, so we headed out again in search of lunch. Our destination was a beachside restaurant known for cooking food in volcanic sand on the Paralia Paleochori beach. Our curious kids got to see there meal up close and personal. And after we stuffed ourselves we lounged on the beach just steps away. Jill and I quickly realized that Milos is a rock hound’s dream. We filled our pockets with stones in every color imaginable. The water was freezing, but that didn’t stop the kids, who swam until their lips turned blue and then buried themselves in the sand to keep warm.
That evening, we kept things simple. Gyros on the porch, sweeping sea views, and a sunset that brought everything to a quiet pause.
The next morning, we set out to explore the nearby village after the sunrise woke us early. Our first stop was the Catacombs of Milos, among the oldest Christian catacombs in the world. Once again, we found ourselves winding through narrow underground tunnels, pretending to be haunted by ghosts and spirits.
From there, we walked to the Ancient Theater of Milos. The kids immediately claimed the stage, dancing and performing with the sea stretching endlessly behind them. Nearby stood a replica of the statue of Aphrodite, marking the spot where the original once stood before making its way to the Louvre. Standing there offered a glimpse into what attending a performance during the Roman Empire might have felt like. The marble was striking, quietly foreshadowing our upcoming visit to Paros.
Lunch took us to Plaka, where we wandered the white-and-blue alleyways and followed our curiosity wherever it led. We found the softest towels that became favorites for everyone. We stopped to talk to a local photographer that gave us tips for seeing some of the best beaches. We awed at the beautiful stone work and stunning views.
Beach time was calling again, so we made our way to Klima, a quiet area known for its colorful boat houses lining the shore. The cute houses were a beautiful contrast against the blue sea, a photographers dream. The beach was small, but perfect for our kiddos, shielded by the wind making for a calm place to play and swim. By the end of the day, we were happily exhausted and content to return to the house, once again watching the sun sink into the sea.
The following day brought even more adventure. We started at Sarakiniko, famous for its moon-like landscape. The smooth white rock formations were unlike anything we had seen before. We lounged by the bay while cold water drifted in around us. The wind made cliff jumping impossible, but watching the waves crash against the rocks was entertainment enough. Nearby, the boys explored pirate caves and managed to fall into a pit, narrowly avoiding serious injury. Thankfully, everyone was fine, and the story quickly turned into one we’ll laugh about for years.
Lunch near the port brought a new kind of entertainment. The kids tossed bread crumbs to the fish below while we waited for our food. Our waiter brought us free shots of his favorite mystery liquor after we were stuffed with fresh made seafood pasta.
For our final beach, we chose something even more off the beaten path. A secluded cove accessible only by boat or a old decaying ladder called Tsigrado Beach. After some debate, we decided to try it. The ladder didn’t look so bad until we were actually on it. Slowly and carefully, we made our way down with the kids. It was absolutely worth it. Calm water, hidden caves, and the kind of experience that makes everyone feel braver afterward. E even found a small cliff to jump from, sealing the adventure.
That night, we decided to walk down to a seafood restaurant in the fishing village below our house. Walking down was easy. Halfway there, we realized our mistake. Getting back up was going to be a challenge, but we chose to worry about that later. The sunset over the village was beautiful, and the food at Medusa was some of the best we had on the entire trip. We were surprised to hear the American asset from our waiter. We soon found out he wasn’t just American, he was Texan. He was thrilled to meet fellow Texans and shared that his future father-in-law owned the restaurant. The owner joined us with special sweet treats and shots of homemade liquor that he was especially proud of. When the waiter heard about our uphill problem, he kindly offered to drive us back up the hill!
We were heading to our next island in the morning. And even though we were excited about what lay ahead, we felt a sense of sadness that night leaving Milos behind. Milos surprised us at every turn. Rugged, playful, and full of heart, it felt wild in the best way. An island that rewards curiosity, patience, and a little bit of courage.
Until next time,
by Missie Hills | Dec 19, 2025 | Europe, International Adventures
Arriving in Athens, we were full of anticipation.
This was our second country on our European summer adventure with the Autens. And we were super excited about our shared Airbnb, a beautiful townhome tucked into the city, topped with a rooftop terrace and a front row view of the Acropolis. One of those places that makes you pause and think, yes, this is really happening.
While we waited for the house to be ready, we settled into a nearby café for lunch. That’s when the girls joined me to checked something big off my bucket list. We slipped away to have a pair of Greek leather sandals custom made at the famous Poet Sandal Maker, who has brought in A-list celebrities from around the world. The shop was wonderfully quirky, filled with art and odd little treasures created by the poet himself. Sitting there getting fitted, waiting while my sandals were made on the spot, I couldn’t help but feel a little Carrie Bradshaw energy. A simple luxury, deeply rooted in place, and absolutely worth it.
Sandals in hand, we met the boys at the Acropolis entrance. We couldn’t wait, this had to be at the top of our to-do list. We went straight in at dusk, hoping for the best light. After an ice cream stop at the entrance, we made our way up the steps, stopping first at the Theatre of Dionysus. Coincidentally, it’s dedicated to Jason’s favorite mythological Greek character, the Greek God of Wine. Of course.
Even in the off season, the Acropolis was packed. I can only imagine what peak summer looks like. Still, the weather was perfect. The marble underfoot was slick and worn, adding to the sense of history. Walking beneath the first entrance pillars, we all went quiet. And then there it was. The Parthenon. Standing in front of something so iconic, so layered with history, felt surreal.
We took our time circling the structure, soaking in every angle. We looked out over the massive city built around it, studied the details up close, and lingered where the light hit the goddess columns just right. It was impossible not to be moved. We could have stayed for hours, but the sun was setting and we were eager to enjoy our townhome.
That night we found a small local restaurant for dinner, the kind of place you stumble into and immediately know it’s special. Afterward, pastries and ice cream were nonnegotiable. We ended the evening on the rooftop with a bottle of wine, listening to a full orchestra perform at the Theatre of Dionysus while the Parthenon lit up behind us. One of those moments you wish you could bottle.
The next morning, after a quick dance party on the roof, we woke up early for the Acropolis Museum. None of us realized how massive it was. The kids were thrilled to find scavenger hunts throughout the exhibits, which kept them happily engaged. The museum was filled with remnants of the ancient city, mythological scenes we all remembered from school, and layers of history stacked on top of each other. Beneath it all sat Roman ruins, old roads and buildings from an empire that once thrived.
Hunger eventually pulled us away, and we headed to Plaka for lunch. This is where Evey fell in love with gyros, a love affair that continues to this day. We wandered the winding streets, popped into shops, and slowly made our way toward the Ancient Agora. Finding the entrance turned into a journey of its own. After fully circling the entire site more, and walking far more than planned, we were loosing our sense of adventure. We stopped at a café to regroup. Some headed back to rest. The rest of us pushed on, not willing to miss it.
I’m so glad we did. The Ancient Agora brought the city to life in a different way. Not the world of gods and temples high on the hill, but the place where everyday life happened. Where business was done, ideas were exchanged, and community formed. We also spotted more turtles than expected, which turned into a fun scavenger hunt of its own.
Walking through the entire site exhausted us, but still took our time to stop and take in all the sights on our trek back to the hotel. Athens doesn’t let you rush. Everywhere you turn there are ruins, shops, stories, and food calling your attention.
We were about to head into a week of island hopping, but Athens deserved more time than we gave it. It’s a city that asks you to slow down, look closer, and come back again.
Until next time,
Recent Comments