I can still remember the yeast rolls.

Warm, delicious, and baked in little terra cotta flower pots, they were served in the cozy dining room of the Ligonier Country Inn in Laughlintown, Pennsylvania. My husband and I sat on the side of the dining room facing the historic Compass Inn, surrounded by the most darling collection of cookie jars lining the walls.

It's funny, the little things that stay with you.

Eighteen years later, I couldn't tell you everything we ate or exactly where we went each day, but I remember those flower-pot rolls. I remember the cookie jars. And I remember the feeling of being newly married, tucked away in a little country inn in the Laurel Highlands as autumn settled over the mountains.

It was the fall of 2008, and we were on our honeymoon.

Coming Home, Finding Home

Just a few week prior, my husband and I had made the move from Nashville, Tennessee, to Latrobe, Pennsylvania.

For him, it was a homecoming. He had grown up in Latrobe, and we were returning to his family home, where his parents still lived. For me, it was the beginning of getting acquainted with a new corner of Pennsylvania, its communities, its mountains, and the winding roads that connect them.

Not long after arriving, we decided to have our wedding right there at the house.

Our wedding was a homespun backyard affair, complete with a potluck meal. Nothing extravagant or elaborate, just a celebration of our new beginning in a place that already held so much family history.

For our honeymoon, we didn't board a plane or venture off to some faraway destination. Instead, we headed east along the Lincoln Highway, into the heart of the Laurel Highlands.

Our destination was Laughlintown, a small historic village just beyond Ligonier, where we spent our honeymoon at the Ligonier Country Inn.

The inn is no longer in operation, but my memories of it remain as warm and inviting as that little dining room.

An Autumn Adventure Along the Lincoln Highway

We spent our honeymoon doing something that remains one of my favorite pastimes to this day: exploring.

We wandered through the charming town of Ligonier, ventured into the woods at Linn Run State Park, and traveled farther east along the Lincoln Highway toward Jennerstown.

There was no elaborate itinerary or need to rush. We were simply enjoying the season, the scenery, and the excitement of beginning our married life together.

And what a beautiful place to begin.

Autumn in the Laurel Highlands has a way of making even the simplest drive feel special. The mountains become a patchwork of gold, orange, and crimson. Small towns seem particularly inviting, and the crisp air practically begs you to pull on a sweater and head outdoors.

Linn Run State Park, with its tumbling streams, moss-covered rocks, and wooded trails, was a perfect place to spend part of our honeymoon. And the Lincoln Highway, winding through historic communities and over the ridges of the Alleghenies, provided a scenic route between our adventures.

At the time, I was simply a newcomer discovering the beauty of my new surroundings. I had no idea that years later, I would find myself working to share the history, attractions, and stories of this very corridor with travelers from near and far.

A Familiar Intersection

Just recently, after a hike in the area, I found myself passing through Laughlintown once again.

I hadn't set out to revisit our honeymoon memories. It was simply one of those beautiful autumn days when I was enjoying the outdoors and taking the scenic route home.

But as I approached that familiar intersection, I felt compelled to stop.

I pulled out my camera and took a few photographs of the village, looking along the roadway and toward the place where the Ligonier Country Inn once welcomed travelers.

The inn may be gone, but across the road, the historic Compass Inn still stands. The surrounding buildings, the quiet streets, and the wooded hills beyond them all felt wonderfully familiar.

Standing there, I found myself transported back to that autumn in 2008.

To a little dining room filled with cookie jars. To warm yeast rolls served in flower pots. To the excitement of being newly married and discovering a place that would eventually mean so much to me.

It struck me that we often pass through places without realizing how deeply they might become woven into our lives.

To someone else, this was simply an intersection along the Lincoln Highway.

To me, it was a little piece of our beginning.

The Stories We Carry Along the Road

One of the things I've come to appreciate most about the Lincoln Highway is that its history extends far beyond the landmarks, buildings, and roadside attractions that we work to preserve.

The highway is also a collection of personal stories.

For more than a century, travelers have journeyed along this route, making memories in roadside diners, motor courts, country inns, and small towns. Families have embarked on summer vacations, couples have set off on honeymoons, and generations of motorists have discovered something special along the way.

Some of those places remain much as they were. Others have changed, found new purposes, or disappeared altogether.

But the memories remain.

My own relationship with the Lincoln Highway has certainly evolved since that first autumn in Pennsylvania. What began as an introduction to my new surroundings has grown into a deep appreciation for the history, landscapes, and communities of the Laurel Highlands and beyond.

Through my work with the Lincoln Highway Heritage Corridor, I've had the opportunity to discover countless stories about the road and the people who traveled it.

And somewhere among all those stories is a little chapter of my own.

The Beauty of Coming Full Circle

Every autumn, when the leaves begin to turn and the hillsides take on their familiar golden glow, I find myself thinking about those early days in Latrobe.

My husband was returning to the place he had always known as home. I was just beginning to discover what made it special.

Eighteen years later, I understand a little better.

It's the beauty of the mountains, certainly. The winding roads, historic communities, and quiet places tucked away among the hills. But it's also the memories we make here, the people we share them with, and the way familiar places can bring us back to moments we thought were long behind us.

That afternoon in Laughlintown, I hadn't gone looking for a memory.

I simply happened upon one.

And perhaps that's one of the best things about taking the long way home.

Find Your Own Autumn Story

If you haven't explored the Lincoln Highway through the Laurel Highlands in autumn, I encourage you to make the trip.

Spend some time strolling through historic Ligonier. Continue east through Laughlintown, where the Compass Inn Museum preserves the stories of early travelers along the historic route. Take a detour into Linn Run State Park, where wooded trails and mountain streams offer a peaceful escape. Or continue your journey toward Jennerstown and discover the communities and roadside treasures along the way.

There's no need to rush. In fact, I'd encourage you not to.

You never know which little roadside stop, winding stretch of highway, or quiet mountain village might become part of your own story.

After all, the best road trips aren't always about discovering somewhere new.

Sometimes, they're about remembering what makes a place feel like home.