I knew I would marry Jordana before she knew she would say yes. When we planned a trip around Peru, I didn’t have to change my plans, only accelerate them. Rainbow Mountain immediately stood out as the perfect picturesque place to get down on a knee. Neither of us had visited; neither of us knew what the trek had in store. On our first evening in Cusco, I had altitude fatigue which threatened to mess up my whole plan, but fortunately, I pulled through with a big nap. That night we stocked up on Coca Candies and ate the best street food ever. In the morning, we made our way to the van. As we continued to gain altitude, Jordana began to freeze solid. Again, I worried my plan would derail. We stopped for breakfast, where Jordana added some extra layers – our rookie move. Back in the van, we arrived fourth in line before the park gate opened, but a bathroom break relinquished our prime spot. This didn’t matter, but what did matter was how Jordana disappeared. I headed to the bathroom line only to discover she wasn’t there. I knew all too well that Jordana liked to wander. I was not frantic, but I was beginning to stress. I blame this on Val’s voice on repeat in my head: “You keep her safe.” After surveying the last person in the extensive line, I was stressed. Then I turned to see Jordana skipping towards me without a care in the world. The sun finally emerged, and within 30 minutes of hiking, all our extra layers came off and into my bag. On we hiked, higher and higher, higher than either of us had ever hiked. Fueled by coca candies, we kept marching. Now the altitude began to take a toll on Jordana; however, the little box in my pocket filled me with an unfair adrenaline boost. “Come on, babe, we got this! Let's wait to take a break up there on that rock.” Jordana was unaware of my advantage. She thought I was pushing her towards a rainbow rock, not a shiny one. Fortunately, my words (or probably just her tenacious spirit) somehow propelled her feet forward. If any of you have done this trail, you know that it begins flat, then slowly becomes steeper, and ends with a massive flight of rock stairs. With the end in sight, I could have bounded straight up. My seemingly unwarranted energy started to annoy Jordy, who began to bargain. “Now, now, hear me out, we just can stop here,” and “I mean, I can see it from here. Do we need to keep going?” I knew she was mostly joking, but I had to keep us climbing. I clumsily toed the line between encouragement and annoyance. Finally, we made it to the top and took in the view. After a while, I began to scout for a spot. I found one even higher up and laughed, thinking how I could convince Jordy to go up unnecessarily higher. Fortunately, the view refreshed Jordana, who easily kept pace. I took out our tripod and set up a nice angle. I started a video instead of a photo timer and returned to Jordana. I know I probably said the smoothest, most eloquent little speech, but that was drowned out by my heart pounding in my ears. Jordana’s eyes flickered with realization when I reached into my pocket. She grabbed my face and said yes before my knee even touched the ground. It wasn’t there long. Jordana pulled me back up and in for a kiss. She leaned down and caught me in an awkward half-knee with my arms and the ring trapped between my chest. During our first kiss as an engaged couple, I felt like a child pretending to be a T-rex – a feeling I will forever cherish. The hike down was bliss. On a clear sunny day, our heads were in the clouds. We ignored the idyllic views, talking and laughing our whole way down, swapping stories about the heirloom ring, my risky plan, and our opposite perspectives on the day's events.

It’s happening! After a long flight and an even longer drive through traffic, we finally made it to my grandparents’ house in Miraflores before our 2-week excursion through the Peruvian jungle and desert. Hunter Facetimed his mother to say we arrived safely, and her first question before realizing I was next to him was, "How's the ring?" I froze while Hunter mimed gestures to Joan to stop talking. I took the opportunity to awkwardly moonwalk out of the room, Nick Miller style, pretending not to hear the question that would change my life forever. I came back, like nothing happened—internally screaming and realizing my hair and nails were definitely not "ring" ready. The next morning on a 5am flight to Cusco, I bought a nail file and performed the saddest cuticle buffing and filing ever attempted. I didn't know when it would happen, but I would be ready. 4 am the next morning, we sleepily put on our hiking clothes and trudged to reception chugging coca tea to combat the waning altitude sickness. We hopped in the van and started our 3-hour ride up to the mountain base. Halfway up, I could see frost on the window forming—cold, my ultimate weakness. Hunter wrapped me in his jacket as we stopped at a little store. I quickly selected an entirely new wardrobe, a second and third layer to shield me from the wind. I felt Hunter's face grimace with each bulky layer I put on. I knew I looked ridiculous, but at least I was warm, and how many pictures would we really be taking anyway? After pounding three more coca teas and lacing up my new wool-lined calf warmers, I knew I had made a mistake. With each bump over the loose rock, I resisted my bladders plea to beg the driver to pull over and risk frostbite. As soon as the door opened, I grabbed my bag and sprinted to the bathrooms completely abandoning Hunter. There is something so sobering about almost peeing your pants. With renewed clarity, I took the opportunity to get dolled up. I had a feeling and Debbie taught me that a lady should always look her best. I casually strolled out of the bathroom to find Hunter running toward me breathlessly. I guess he was also working through something? Before we embarked, Hunter made his last plea for me to remove my very "flattering" layers. l thank him to this day. The path up was beautiful, with snow-capped mountains lining the bend. Our guide gave us a private tour while the rest of our group opted for the easy way up on donkeys. The meandering path quickly turned into a steady 45° climb, with the last 200 meters practically shifted to 70° over loose rocks. A rope was placed to assist, and with each step up, I felt the air escaping my lungs. I would take five steps with the aid of the rope and quickly sit down to catch my breath. Hunter seemed to be in an unreasonable rush and kept my breaks to a mere 5 seconds. I finally dragged myself up and saw the peak, the Rainbow Mountains really live up to their name. Others stopped at the first viewpoint, but Hunter being the caring and compassionate adventurer that he is, made me walk another 200ft up the mountain. Apparently, the spot wasn't good enough for our summit picture. I smiled; he was right—the spot was much better. He walked over to me, and his expression changed. As soon as he started talking, I knew what was happening. Even after hearing Hunter’s mom, I didn’t expect this on the first excursion. I couldn’t see through my tears as he slid the ring over my finger. Thank God he told me to take off those ugly calf warmers. As we descended, he shared the story of how he approached my father, the whispered words he exchanged with my mother at the airport, the story of the ring, and its significance within his family. Each word he spoke added another layer of depth to the day. Listening to him, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl - I'm marrying my best friend.