The scene steals the breath from your lungs as you barrel down the dirt road, and suddenly, it emerges: Rock City is a collage of color, the stone a mix of oranges, reds, and tans, with the shadows creating a contrast that no painting could ever do justice.

Life was beautiful in Honduras, but every bright object has a shadow, and the shadows in the cities of Honduras are particularly dark.

In the heart of Montana’s rugged landscapes, where the rivers run clear and the mountains stand tall, there exists a haven for those who have served their country and returned home carrying the weight of war on their shoulders.

A deep and sharp “Woooh-woooh” pierces the air as the tour train honks, causing me to jolt at the noise and its rumble throughout the train car.

In most places in Montana, cars are a necessary form of transportation. In many ways, cars reflect our liberties as citizens; as such, roads—and the need for them—transform into a necessity for the citizenry alike. The Montana Department of Transportation (MDT) agrees.