When Logistics Go Sideways — and Why Experience Matters

There are things that go wrong at every wedding. The key is solving them before anyone realizes they were ever problems.

This situation was different.

This wedding took place in Moab, Utah, with a sunset ceremony at Dead Horse Point State Park and a reception later that evening at the Hoodoo Moab. From the beginning, we were working with tight timing, multiple locations, and the added pressure that comes with a sunset ceremony in a state park — where light, access, and timing are non-negotiable.

During planning, the bride and I had detailed conversations about how her 40 guests would get to Dead Horse. She pre-purchased entry and parking passes, which we distributed before departure. I was assigned to lead the caravan in my own vehicle. Meanwhile, the couple met their photographer for their first look while all guests — including the wedding party — were instructed to head directly to the ceremony location to wait.

Despite clear instructions, the maid of honor and two bridesmaids decided to linger briefly to try to catch a glimpse of the first look. When they were shooed away, they continued driving — but missed the turn to Dead Horse and accidentally drove into Canyonlands National Park.

On a normal day, this would have been caught at the entrance gate. Unfortunately, this wedding took place during a government shutdown. There was no staff at the Canyonlands entrance to stop them. They drove deep into the park before realizing something was wrong.

If this had been any other guests, the ceremony would have proceeded without them. But this was the bride’s entire wedding party.

Once I was able to get them on the phone, calm them down, and determine their location, I gave clear directions to get them back on track. Only then did I take the situation to the bride.

Sunset ceremonies are always a race against the light. We had intentionally built in time after the ceremony for guests to enjoy the views and for the couple to take sunset photos — one of the main reasons they chose Dead Horse in the first place. At this point, we were facing a potential 30+ minute delay.

I pulled the bride aside, explained the situation calmly, and gave her the choice: proceed without her wedding party, or wait.

She chose to wait.

Immediately, the photographer and I adjusted the plan. Instead of losing valuable daylight, we used the unexpected window to complete family photos that had originally been scheduled for after the ceremony. I gathered family members, organized groups efficiently, and we used that time intentionally rather than letting it feel like a delay.

When the bridesmaids finally arrived, I met them in the parking lot, grounded them, and ensured they were emotionally ready to step straight into the ceremony. The ceremony began later than planned — but the light ended up being absolutely perfect. There was still ample time afterward for the epic Dead Horse sunset photos the couple had dreamed of.

While guests did wait longer than expected, the day never felt rushed or chaotic. The ceremony was beautiful, the photos were stunning, and the couple left feeling deeply satisfied with how everything unfolded.

Most importantly, I carried the lessons forward.

For the next Dead Horse ceremony I coordinated, we:

  • Had every guest save the location pin and download offline maps

  • Briefed guests on the proximity and confusion between the state park and national park

  • Ran a tight caravan with a designated caboose in radio communication

  • Brought a wagon stocked with water in case of extended time at the ceremony site

That wedding — and the rest of the day — went off without a hitch.

This is what real on-site experience teaches you: not just how to solve problems, but how to adapt, communicate clearly, protect the couple’s priorities, and improve systems so the same issue never happens twice.

Had I not stepped in quickly — with maps failing and guests unfamiliar with the land — there’s no guarantee the wedding party would have made it back in time.

Experience isn’t about perfection.
It’s about knowing what to do when perfection isn’t possible.

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