Dillon and Jennifer both attended the same summer camp up near the Bob Marshall Wilderness. Then again. And again. This continued year after year and they became friends. One year, at a youth conference, he mustered up the courage to ask for her phone number. Through seasons of texting back and forth, seasons of letters, seasons of quiet, and the occasional running into each other, the two became good friends. Waiting on God's very perfect timing/playing out their big ol' chicken phases, they remained that way. For a while. Even through attending the same Bible school together at that very same campus where they had met at camp. After another 10 years or so, they eventually both landed on the same page (the "I kinda think I like you" page) at the same time and decided long distance dating was worth a shot. Turns out, it didn't work out. Long distance wass kind of the pits. So Jennifer moved from her little cabin in the woods of Idaho, to the very center of Montana - changing the commute between them from 6 hours to 6 minutes. Turns out, they both quite enjoyed the quality time over the long text messages. As Jennifer worked toward finding her place in the big(ger than Harrison) Montana town that Dillon calls home, she was pleasantly surprised at how often he came around. Expecting a little bit that he would often be off working on projects and going on adventures too wild and crazy for her to keep up with, he actually came around a lot. Those projects and adventures did happen occasionally, and they will continue to, but it really seemed he kind of really liked spending his time with this gal. Adventures together, though tamer than his norm, were something they both look forward to. One such day, with a storm brewing off in the distance, they set out after work for a quick adventure on the water. Dillon was rowing along and Jennifer was fishing (or trying to). During a lull in the rowing, Jennifer snagged a stick and swung her fly rod around to show Dillon and to suggest "STICKing together" - that's when she caught a look of "I've been busted" flash in Dillon's eyes. Turns out, he was in the process of pulling a ring box out of his fly bag. "Oh! Like stick together forever!" she said, not sure if it came out of her mouth or remained a thought in her mind. As she shook off the stick and set down her rod and tried to wrap her mind around what was happening - trying to soak in this moment without ending up soaked - Dillon opens the box. Kneeling in his lifejacket and her favorite green shirt of his, Dillon produces a beautiful ring the shape of a raindrop and asks "Will you marry me?" On the boat, wearing her lifejacket, trying to move from her spinning chair to get closer without stepping on any gear or making any sudden movements that might cause a tiny but miserable splash (the ring, I'm talking about the ring falling in the water) - she replied with a very quick, confident: "Yes-I think so-Probably-Maybe-Probably-Yes-Yes I will." After clarifying she had indeed said yes, securing the ring onto Jennifer's left hand, a lifejacket hug, and a quick picture (that got squashed & lost the next day), Dillon began to row again. With the sun setting and thunder now surrounding them, they continued their journey down the creek, toward the stunning clouds framing the setting sun, the ol' trestle bridge, the boat take out spot, and toward a date on the calendar that will mark one of their biggest adventures yet!