René's Version: Going to Kasilof Beach over the Fourth of July weekend, which falls during dipnetting season, has long been an annual tradition for me and many of my coworkers and friends. It’s usually a big gathering—a chance to escape the daily grind in Anchorage and spend time with family, friends, and kids. That year was different. Many of the regulars who normally joined me had other commitments and couldn’t make it. But that didn’t stop me. I loaded my wheeler onto the trailer, packed my bags, jumped in my truck, and headed South—just a man and his Grizzly. During the four-hour drive, I found myself lost in thought. Why was I alone this time? Where was everyone who usually made this trip with me? But as I turned onto Coho Road, that long stretch leading to the beach, something shifted. I started to feel glad that I had come anyway. When I reached the beach, I stopped to take in the view and breathe in the ocean air. Then I drove straight onto the sand—trailer behind me—and within seconds, I bottomed out and got stuck, right in a high-traffic area. Alone. I threw on my rain gear and got to work. A guy walked over and offered to help—just the Alaska way. Together, we unloaded the Grizzly and eventually got the truck unstuck. Seeing I was by myself, he invited me to join his group camped just around the corner. Of course I did. And that’s where my life changed. As we pulled up to their campsite, it was impossible not to notice this young, short-haired, loud, and rowdy girl. She was full of life, and from the moment I saw her, I knew I had to know her. During introductions, I walked over and, without planning it, said, “I’ve been looking for you my whole life.” Looking back—probably a little creepy—but it came out naturally. All weekend, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. We went for a ride on the Grizzly, and for the first time, I felt her arms around me. It was truly magical. It felt right. After that day, we went our separate ways. A week or two later, we connected again—and the rest is history. To this day, every morning we wake up together, we start the day with a long hug. Every day.

MyKel’s version: On the Fourth of July weekend, 2017, on Kasilof Beach—I was camping with friends of friends, just minding my business, when I noticed a big white truck stuck in between our campsite and the water. The driver got out… walked off… and came back wearing bright fluorescent pants. Naturally, I turned to my group and said, “Did that guy just change his pants??” A guy from our camp went to help him, and a little while later they both came back with the man himself—René—introductions were made. The first thing he said to me? “I’ve been looking for you my whole life.” Bold. Very bold. Somehow, we ended up spending the rest of the day together. We rode around on his Grizzly (my first time ever), cruising up and down the beach. At one point, I was holding onto him and felt something in his hoodie pocket—he laughed and said, “That’s a can in my pocket.” Smooth. Later, he had me driving through the trees, calmly coaching me to trust the machine while I was just trying not to panic. By sunset, we were riding up and down the beach like we’d known each other forever. We even stopped by another campsite meeting his daughter and friends (who were probably wondering who the heck this girl was). To top it off, we found a massive tree trunk and dragged it back to my campsite for the fire… because apparently that’s just the kind of day it was. About a week later, we met up in Wasilla for lunch… and I remember thinking, “Hmmm… I think he might’ve been right that first moment on the beach.” … We’ve been together ever since.

Early in our relationship, we were on our way to a dinner party where the host was making her “famous mojitos”—but there was one problem: no mint. We made an emergency run to the store, only to find the herb section completely cleared out. Just as panic started to set in, an employee asked if we needed help. We explained we were on a mission for mint. Without missing a beat, he reached into a box on a nearby cart, pulled out a fresh bundle, handed it to us, and said: “It’s mint to be.” We laughed… and never let it go. What started as a random grocery store moment turned into one of our favorite inside jokes—and now, the theme of our wedding.