Return Engagement

Souzz and I marked 25 years of marriage this year, a life’s partnership that started at—of all places—a putt-putt course. Our meet-up was arranged by our friend Michele, who is now fondly known as “the matchmaker.” Shortly after we met, Souzz banked a hole-in-one off the gorilla’s leg, and I knew she was the one for me (ok, so there wasn’t actually a gorilla).

To celebrate this year’s big milestone in the most romantic way possible, I proposed a return engagement to the putt-putt course—but it’s long gone, out of business. So my second choice was Italy—which kinda made sense since we got engaged there. Back in 1998, I proposed to Souzz while on a climbing trip in the Alps. I popped the question in Italian—a language I don’t speak—and I’m still not exactly sure what I said. But we did get married the following year, so it seems likely that it was a marriage proposal.

That trip was amazing, but our photos were pretty low-quality—which says something about how long ago that was.

We’ve had some very memorable milestones over the years. Our first date was a hike in heavy rain, perhaps a sign of things to come. Our first backpack was on our honeymoon in the North Cascades (pro tip: maybe not the best time to introduce your bride to earth-rattling thunderstorms). Our fifth anniversary was a tandem canoe trip in Idaho. Our tenth was a fly-in backpack in Lake Clark. Fifteen was a float in the Arctic. And twenty was hiking and touring in Scotland and the Faroes. It’s tempting to say we do something crazy every five years, but we actually do crazy stuff more often than that. And we feel so lucky to have had the chance to travel so much.

Returning to the Alps this year was a wonderful way to celebrate. And with Europe such a compact geography–especially compared to our regular haunts in Alaska–we were able to add a few different chapters to our trip. In addition to returning to where we got engaged in Italy, we also visited family roots in Alsace (Riquewihr) and went hiking in central Switzerland (Cavardiras).

For our trip’s first chapter, we headed to Courmayeur and then on to the Col du Flambeaux, which is the spot where we got engaged. The glacier is easily accessible by way of a cable car to the Torino Hut, and the area was just as we remembered it–which is to say, fantastic! We had bluebird weather, which is always a bonus in the high mountains.

It’s been more than a quarter century since we’ve been to the Col du Flambeaux, but at least Souzz and the mountains look the same. And the beer at the hut is still cold.

We were amazed at how familiar everything still felt to us around Courmayeur, and we couldn’t take our eyes off the scenery. The people were also super-friendly (our rope, harnesses, crampons, and axes made for interesting conversation with our fellow cable car riders). It was such a gift to be back, and we feel incredibly fortunate to have had the opportunity to get there (twice now).

After Courmayeur, we headed a few hours northwest to France to visit Souzz’s roots. Her mom’s family emigrated to Buffalo from the Alasatian villages of Mertzwiller and Hagenau in the mid-1800s. We spent a lot of time exploring those areas, and we enjoyed some interesting bike rides through wine country. Souzz also wrangled her way into a spot at the shared grill at a neighborhood barbecue, a fascinating cultural experience. We capped off the Alsace part of our trip with a lovely dinner at Restaurant Au Dolder in Riquewihr, a recommendation from my sister and brother-in-law.

After visiting Alsace, we headed over to Switzerland for our last chapter, a phenomenal hut-to-hut hike with our good friend Reto. It was an adventure just getting to the trailhead, which was about 30 kilometers west of Chur. Reto guided us through a complicated series of buses and trains and cab rides, a link-up we never could have done on our own. Once on the trek, we spent nights at the Cavardiras and Hinterbalm huttes. We were at around 3,000 meters of elevation for big stretches, with jaw-dropping scenery all around. The Swiss alpine huts are great places to recharge, and they are also wonderful cultural experiences. Big thanks go to Reto for making all of that happen!

Souzz definitely has her own style about these trips. If I spoke Italian, I might say she has gioia di vivere, which I think means a zest for life (hopefully it doesn’t mean “a loser husband”). She brings her relentless optimism and grounded perspective everywhere she goes, and she lifts me (and others) during the inevitable thunderstorms of life. When we first met all those years ago, I couldn’t have imagined how rock-steady she really is. She’s solid on the end of a rope, in the bow of a canoe, on the runners of a dogsled, crammed in a bush plane–or in the comfort of her own living room. This trip was a spectacular reminder of the best question I’ve ever asked anybody anywhere (assuming I did actually propose).

A while back, Souzz’s niece was asking us about one of our trips, and she said “it’s just the two of you, for days in the wild, all alone, with nobody else? Don’t you get tired of each other?” One thing I know about Souzz is that she isn’t just a great adventure partner; she is the adventure.