Nine Years in the Making

Nearly nine years ago, Owen and I headed off to separate colleges after a couple weeks of dating. We didn't know if our relationship would last until Thanksgiving break. We definitely didn't anticipate the years of adventures that lay ahead for us: studying abroad, joining the National Guard, living in the deep South, moving to the West Coast, adventuring on a motorcycle. We have come a long way from the two high-schoolers we once were, and I'm so proud to say that we're now husband and wife!

Photo credits: Daryl Gillum

Almost a month later, I still can’t believe that we pulled off such an incredible wedding. As two people who are both laid back, don’t ever plan parties, have no eye for decorations, and tend to procrastinate, we are truly the opposite of wedding planners. But somehow, it all came together and the whole weekend felt like a celebration of our favorite things: motorcycle rides, redwood trees, fire pits, wild dance parties, hiking, delicious food, and fancy drinks. 

Photo credits: Daryl Gillum

The weekend of the wedding, I thought I was well prepared, armed with our detailed schedule that mapped out every single thing happening. But nothing could have prepared me for the overwhelming generosity of our family and friends. They bought last-minute supplies, assembled bouquets, loaded cars, brought us pizzas, made amazing toasts, shuttled people around, fixed my makeup, set up centerpieces, made us s'mores, bustled my dress, retrieved my vows, hosted an after party, and that's just scratching the surface. I like to think of Owen and I as pretty low maintenance people, but there is no way we could have gotten through the day without the help and support of all our guests. 

We couldn't have done it without them! Photo credits: Daryl Gillum

There were so many memorable moments that I’ll cherish forever: looking into Owen's eyes during the ceremony and feeling like we were the only two people in the world, listening to Kelli totally rock her maid of honor toast, watching the sun set over the Bay as our guests danced into the night... It was an incredible day, and a lot to take in. After the wedding weekend, we escaped to a treehouse in Santa Cruz for a night to unwind, just the two of us: our first trip as a married couple!

Our humble abode

Skylights above the bed

Reality check, though: planning a wedding is freaking stressful. So in the weeks leading up to it, we sprinkled in a few trips in the mountains so we could clear our minds and for a few days pretend like our world did not revolve around place cards or centerpieces or wedding cake toppers. 

Running a 16 mile race in the snow with 5,000 feet of elevation gain was a good way to do that. Back in June, Madeline and Evan flew down from Seattle and we all headed up to Squaw Valley in Lake Tahoe so Madeline and I could run the Broken Arrow Skyrace. Before the race, we had gotten multiple email warnings from the race directors that there would be some snow on the course, but they weren’t exactly sure how much would remain on race day. A lot remained on race day, that’s how much. I realized this race wasn’t like anything else I’d run before when I looked to my right and saw skiers and snowboarders queuing up for a ski lift. Yes, you heard that right: the ski resort was still open at the end of June and we were running past skiers and snowboarders. Two of those skiers/snowboarders were Owen and Evan! The race had it all: stream crossings, ropes to pull ourselves up steep, snow-covered slopes, glissading, and even a ladder, dubbed “Stairway to Heaven” on the rockiest, steepest part of the course. When I wasn’t cursing myself for signing up for something this difficult, I was pretty much in heaven. Plus, we got to spend the weekend with our best friends. Wedding stress couldn’t hold a candle to it. 

"Stairway to Heaven" ladder

Trying not to fall into the lake after the race

You would think that a backpacking trip marked as appropriate for kids ages eight and older would be a walk in the park for Owen and I, right? Well, you would be wrong. Let me explain. There was an article in Backpacker Magazine about teaching kids to backpack, and one of the trip ideas for "big kids" was a loop in the Trinity Alps Wilderness in northern CA. It seemed like the perfect mellow trip for a long weekend. Day one, we got a late start as it was July 4th, and we had made an impromptu stop to watch a Fourth of July parade at a small town on our way to the trail head. We weren’t worried though, as we had half the day to cover five miles to the first good campsite. The hiking got hard immediately, and did not let up. What we didn’t realize, because our map didn’t have elevation, was that the trail gained 4,000 feet in those first five miles. I should also probably mention that, somehow, we hadn’t gone backpacking in about eight months so we were wildly out of shape. At one point, hours into our hike, we were scaling a very steep slope, grabbing onto trees to pull ourselves up the loose dirt, and I kept thinking “This can’t be the trail.” Turns out it wasn’t the trail. The actual trail was still covered under several feet of snow. By the time we finally rolled into camp, right before dark, I didn’t care if we were sleeping on a boulder field, I just wanted to get horizontal. 

The next morning we regrouped. After talking with other hikers we learned that much of the rest of the hike was covered in snow so we reset our expectations. We would ditch our heavy packs at our basecamps and go for a day hike, with the hopes of making it to at least one of the four lakes on the loop. Hiking uphill in the snow wasn’t bad. Hiking downhill, though? That required too much effort. Instead, we glissaded down all the big slopes. If you’re not familiar, glissading is basically sledding without a sled. You’re supposed to use an ice axe to stop yourself, but we didn’t have ice axes so we used our trekking poles. It was scary, but also fun as hell, and we even got a round of applause from another group of hikers across the lake. We may not have conquered the loop made for eight-year olds, but at least we got to play like we were eight years old again.

After our wedding, Kelli and Cam stuck around and borrowed our car to take a road trip through the Sierra. Our car that had "Just Married" written all over it. Honestly, there's no better way to embarrass your sister than making her drive that around with her boyfriend. I was actually really grateful they could spend more time out here, though. That next weekend, the four of us drove out to Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. After battling it out with Bay Area traffic, we didn’t arrive in the national forest outside the park until the moon had already risen, so we carefully navigated a dirt road and found a decent camping spot. Owen and I got to work setting up our tent, while Kelli and Cam reclined the front seats of our car and cracked the windows. When they say “car camping” they literally mean sleeping in a car.

The last time we were here it was so busy that there was no place to pull over to actually see the giant sequoia trees. I was not going to make that same mistake again. Which meant we woke up at 5:45am Saturday morning, threw everything in the car, and quickly got on the road. Our Toyota Yaris, now dubbed the “jellybean” is not an expansive vehicle by any means. It’s the perfect size for a two-person road trip, but when packed with four adults and their stuff (Kelli brought a suitcase for god’s sake!) it was reaching its capacity and things started to go missing. At one point, I don’t think any of us knew exactly where our wallets were. Anyway, we didn’t need wallets to see sequoia trees, so we hightailed it to the Giant Forest, then basked in the early morning glory of having the grove almost entirely to ourselves.  

Photo credits: Cam McCall (this was a vertical panorama!)

That afternoon we hiked the Lakes Trail and had two options: book it out to the farthest lake, six miles away, or arrive at the first lake, swim, nap, and lounge for a few hours. We opted for the latter with no regrets. We even got to do a bit of scrambling to get to the top of the Watchtower, a massive granite rock formation. That night before we went to bed, we established ground rules for proper bear etiquette: one honk of the car horn meant Kelli and Cam were simply trying to drive the bear away. Two honks meant they were actually driving away, and Owen and I would be left to fend for ourselves. Luckily, we never had to test out the system.

We leave for Denali National Park, for our honeymoon, tomorrow! The past two weeks have been a whirlwind, not just because we had to plan the entire trip, but also because we've been tracking conditions in the park and they weren't looking great: heavy rains, mudslides, and wildfires. As of now, everything is open but fingers crossed that it stays that way. Our trip hasn't even started yet and it already feels like an adventure!