Six Years

Worry free hippie kids..

Six years ago in the early summer of 2001, Stephen and I were relaxing by the New River in Todd North Carolina, getting ready to head out to Montana for the summer. I had just graduated college and we had been dating long distance (NC and FL) for about a year.


Me on the eve of our engagement (right) Swimming at Fire Hole Canyon (left)

In August, two days before I had to drive Stephen to Cody for his flight back to Florida, we decided to go on a hike to Lionhead Mountain. The mountain was our backdrop at the campground where we worked and it had been taunting us all summer. We got up early (7am to beat the heat of the day) and packed our day pack, ready for a good 2-3 hour hike on the loop trail we had heard so much about. A friend of ours from the campground, Katie (who lived in upstate NY), came along too. We all piled in the Volvo and headed off for the trail head. When we got there, we realized we had forgotten the map. Not wanting to delay adventure, and figuring the trail would be clearly marked, we started up the mountain. It was beautiful. Rippling brooks and gigantic ancient trees creaking in the wind. Once as we were approaching a clearing, we heard what sounded like chewing. When we reached the edge of the woods and started into the field we saw him. A huge bull moose, munching contentedly in the meadow. The acoustics of the surrounding hills were such that we could actually hear him chewing. We moved as quietly as we could, continuing on the trail. When we were almost out of earshot, we heard a snort and turned to see a female moose and her calf joining the bull. This sounds like it was made up, but it happened. It was so unreal that we all had to remind ourselves that it was actually happening. As the day wore on, we started to get a bit tired. We stopped for lunch. Rested our feet. We seemed to be actually crossing over the mountain instead of going around it as we had planned. Had we missed the loop trail ? Impossible. It must be our imagination. Should we turn around ? Never! The weather was perfect, the scenery incomparable, we forged ahead in good spirits. Besides, we had already been walking for 4 hours, if we turned back now it would mean 4 hours back to the car. The loop had to be around here somewhere, maybe we were already headed back and just disoriented. We continued to be amazed by our surroundings. We stopped for water breaks and to rest our legs. A few hours later, all three of us were pretty exhausted. It was now about 4 o'clock and we were starting to feel concerned that we weren't back to the car yet. Hiking in Montana is not like hiking in North Carolina or West Virginia. You don't hang around in the woods at dusk or after the sun goes down. Why ? Grizzly Bears. Paranoid ? Well it just so happened that the area we were hiking in was also the "Grizzly Recovery Area" aka "Where Grizzlies from Yellowstone are dropped off when they start becoming a problem in the Park". Not such a big deal during the day, but not something to mess with in the dark. We had already been warned about the threat by our boss at the campground, earlier in the summer (he told us a lovely tale about a former employee who went missing one summer and all that they found was a small piece of his backpack). It didn't help that we found several gnawed up "animal" bones near a stream we crossed. Soon we started to panic (a little). It was actually starting to get dark and we had been hiking for hours, our feet were numb and our legs felt like Jello. Each time we came to a bend in the trail or a clearing up ahead we were sure this would be it - the parking lot. Nope. Just more trail. The sun was very low on the horizon and the shadows were lengthening. Katie and I shed a few tears as we thought of ways we could hide for the night just in case we didn't make it back before darkness decended. We were now stopping more frequently because our feet hurt so bad and were were almost out of water. Just when we thought we couldn't go on, we saw it, off in the distance, the trail head!!!!! We had made it!!!! We all hurried towards the road with sinking hearts, our car was gone. What?!?! Had someone stolen it ??!?? The parking lot looked a bit different from the one we remembered parking at in the morning. We flagged down a passing Ford Bronco on the (practically deserted) dirt road at the end of the lot. The man inside informed us that we were on the other side of the mountain from where we started, about 18 miles from the car. In shock we let the man drive away without even asking for a ride. Openly weeping now, Katie and I walked ahead of Stephen, praying for another car to pass so we could hitch a ride. This was out in the middle of nowhere folks. After 15 minutes or so, we heard another car headed in our direction. We tried to flag the driver down but he ignored us and kept driving. It was twilight now. Not long after the second car disappeared from sight, the Bronco returned. He came back to check on us thinking we might need a ride! The man was a saint. Turns out he was a fire jumper, from Virginia, out to fight the wildfires of the season. The three of us piled gratefully into his vehicle and thanked him with broken voices. We were saved, rescued by an angel from the Park Service.


Dixie Classic Fair - Fall 2000


Waterfall in Yellowstone (see Stephen on the far right)

The next day, while recovering from our hiking adventure, Stephen asked me if I wanted to go for a bike ride in the Park (Yellowstone). I was so sore I could hardly walk, and told him as much. Thanks, but no thanks. How about we drive out to our favorite stream and sit on the boulders, it is, after all, my last day here, he reminded me. That sounded more my speed, so again we piled in the ol' Volvo and headed out. We got about a mile out of town when the car suddenly died. Just.. died. Stephen pulled over to the side of the road, practically hyperventilating. Relax, I urged him. It's an old car, I am sure it's something minor. We will just have to hitch back into town and get a tow. "This can't be happening! This can't be happening!!!" was his only response. I found it very curious that my laid back, chilled out boyfriend was freaking out over a broken down car - that was normally my role. Anyway, a van came by seconds later and offered to give us a ride into town. Montana folks are super helpful like that. Once in town we hired a tow truck and set about getting the car looked at by a mechanic. It was soon obvious it wasn't just a small problem - the engine had actually blown up. Funny, we didn't hear any explosion. Stephen suggested that we leave the car there for the night and I and my Dad (in NC) could figure out what to do about it tomorrow, when I got back from my airport run to Cody (4 hours one way). The same van stopped by at the mechanic's to see how we were getting along (see what I mean??) and gave us a ride back to the campground, where I assumed we would just hang out for the rest of the day. Not so. Stephen borrowed a car from one of our friend co-workers and off we went for another drive. This time headed for the Idaho border, only 7 short miles away. Just over the border, was a beautiful lake surrounded on all sides by towering mountains. Stephen pulled off of the road. He suggested we get out for a better view. As we stood by that fence, in the setting sun, Stephen asked me to be his wife. My engagement ring was (is) has a yellow Montana Sapphire that he bought from a miner/cook/cowboy that we worked with. A silversmith in town made it into a ring. Obviously, I said yes. We headed off for dinner, he had made a reservation at the Old Faithful Inn in the Park. I hardly remember what we ate, I was so excited about spending the rest of my life with my best friend. The next day I tearfully watched him leave for Florida. I spent the following few weeks working on getting the car fixed so I could get home (my sweet Dad had an engine shipped out from NC, and a mechanic in Bozeman - the only mechanic within 300 miles who worked on Volvos - changed out the motors). My parents came to see me at the end of the summer, and we spent several days touring around the area in a rental car while we waited for word that the Volvo was fixed and ready to be picked up. Finally, my dad had to head back to work and my mom and I stayed to wait for the car. Once it was ready, we drove back together, arriving home on my birthday, September 10th. Our trip home is another incredible story that will have to wait for another time. Three months later, on December 15th, 2001 Stephen and I were married. He was still in undergraduate school, I had no job and no money. All we had was a lease on an apartment (with a co-signer) in Sarasota and a car with a brand new engine. Here we are, six years later, it's hard to believe just how far we have come. The Lord has blessed us mightily. We have been through hard times and struggles, but we are still together and as cheesy as it sounds, the struggles have only made our marriage stronger. I don't really know how to describe just how much this relationship means to me, without sounding horribly mushy. I am so proud of where we have been, where we are, and where we are headed. I couldn't have done any of it without that curly headed kid that I had such a wicked crush on at camp.


Super Cheesy Freshman Year Art Student Photograph of Two Friends Madly in Love at Sunset in Winston-Salem - Fall 2000


I love you best friend...