A Little Valentine Tribute

St. Patty's Day 2011

One year ago today I woke up to this post from "my valentine": Five Ideas for Escaping Into the Mountains For Valentine's Day. Being unexpectedly mentioned in Steve's post was one of the sweetest gestures I had been shown- especially from a guy who isn't one to go into detail about about relationships. He planned the day perfectly- climbing was the main activity on the agenda- and then surprised me later with something I'll never forget: creamy peanut butter sandwiches.

I've talked about this before. He likes crunchy, I like creamy. It's not just that he prefers crunchy- it's that he pretty much thinks creamy is a waste of peanut butter. He would never buy it. He has been vocal in his distaste for it; in fact, I'm surprised it wasn't a deal breaker for him early on in our relationship. According to Steve, crunchy is not only tops, but it is the only kind of acceptable peanut butter.

While we usually agree on food, often choosing the exact same menu items when ordering, I am on the opposite end of the peanut butter spectrum. Creamy all the way for me. I love how smooth it is and the little sugar crystals that crunch slightly when you chew. I don't like massive pieces of things messing up my uniform texture (for this reason, I also don't like cherry pie). I would never buy a jar of crunchy peanut butter. 

So, on Vday 2011, when he handed me a couple of tin-foil packages and I bit into a smooth, chunk-free sandwich (sorry, couldn't think of a better way to put that), it dawned on me that he had gone out and purchased a jar of creamy peanut butter just for me. He didn't say a word; he was content to 

let me enjoy my sandwich without expecting any praise. But as soon as I took that first bite, I realized what he had done. I didn't know how to express how much I loved that seemingly small act of thoughtfulness- all I did was look up in surprise and exclaim, "You used creamy peanut butter!" To me, there was nothing small about it; it is the single most favorite thing anyone has ever done for me because it was simple and showed he was thinking about me.

After 15 months of dating him, I've learned that's how Steve is. It's not about big gestures. It's flying under the radar, doing things quietly without expecting anything in return. When we climb together, he believes in my abilities more than I do, pushing me by telling me I can do it and to try harder. During The Most Epic Trip, he worked hard to keep the car organized and the dishes clean after I cooked. He even took over the reigns of cooking when he knew I had a particularly hard day. When I came back from Florida after not seeing him for three weeks, he had gone out and bought groceries so the kitchen wouldn't be empty and made me my favorite dinner- his breaded chicken with pasta. On my birthday, he snuck out to the grocery store and purchased ingredients to create a birthday "cake" for me- which he managed to hide in the car somewhere until we got to our friends' house for dinner, later pulling it magically out of their fridge. It consisted of all my favorite ingredients that he had figured out during our climbing trip... graham crackers, dark chocolate, salted pecans... I didn't know he was paying such close attention. As he's told me, it sometimes feels like he knows me better than I know myself.

When I was sick last month, he went to the store, bought two versions of my favorite chicken noodle soup and a bottle of gingerale, and then came home to make it for me. In Florida, knowing my dad had landscape projects around the house that he was too busy for, Steve spent all day raking up dead palm fronds, clipping back bushes and cleaning the dock in his backyard. When the rain soaked my sleeping bag on a a camping trip, he gave me his and froze all night in my much-too-short (and wet) bag. He works through business ideas with me, trying to help me figure out new approaches to problems. And when we ski together, we're in perfect sync... it's the first time I've found someone that doesn't miss a beat with my ski style- swapping easily between leading and following without saying a thing- and seamlessly matching each other's random detours into the trees and and steeps. Even if I do happen to slow down (I'll admit, it happens on occasion ;), he always waits to make sure I make it through okay.

I love that he's humble about his abilities in the outdoors, always ready to learn from others and never egotistical about his strengths. I love that he can dance (really well) but doesn't take it seriously. His playful side makes me laugh- sporting pink unicorn hats is not beneath his level, and neither is spending two hours in a thrift store to secure our perfect St. Patty's Day ski outfits and claiming GNAR points at the resort. He's adventurous- always up for anything that involves being outdoors, trying new things, being new places, setting new personal goals. And when he smiles, it makes my entire day.

Carrying a snow baby

I feel pretty lucky he approached me over a year and a half ago as I was belaying a friend and asked if I'd like to climb together. I also feel lucky that my joking but highly sarcastic remarks to him during that first meeting didn't deter him, but instead made him like me that much more. I've never met anyone so matched with my interests, pushing what seems impossible into the possible, who thrives on being outdoors as much as I do, who dreams as much of being an entrepreneur, who doesn't mind the minimalist lifestyle and in fact shuns luxury just to be able to do the things we both love. There aren't many of us out there like that, and there are even less who can find someone who enjoys not just one but all of the sports they enjoy...snow, rock, ice, mountain biking, etc and at similar levels (though he often rocks me in climbing!). Because he did come up and ask me to climb that lucky day, we've gone some crazy places, met amazing people and have memories most people only dream about.  His persistance is what won me over in the end- not that it took much convincing ;) - and I laugh when I think back on our first date driving through the snowy roads of the Uintas for eight hours, braving giant moose, creepy unmanned campfires and three state border crossings, until he had to rush to the airport 30 minutes before his flight. It was after this whirlwind date that I got a text from him as he was waiting for takeoff: "I've been thinking about it and I'd like to take you out when I get back home." It's obvious, from this post, that I agreed; it's pretty telling from that first roadtrip that we'd continue on to pack so much adventure into 15 months.

He's 1,600 miles away right now, but he's still my best climbing partner, ski buddy, and travel companion. Even after six months in a car with him, I get excited thinking about the next big thing we get to work on. And although I will always be a creamy peanut butter girl, I'll even love sandwiches made with the crunchy version if it means I get to share them with him after long a day in the powder or on the wall. :)

San Rafael, Feb 2012