How I Met My Wife

Among skiing married couples, a common question is, “How did you meet your wife?”  My history was straight forward.  I was coming back from a tour one day when I noticed a cute girl with a La Grave bumpersticker on her car.  This led to a discussion about La Grave, in which case it turned out  I knew the cutie’s brother, Colin Samuels, from years before.  We left it at that, then meet again coincidentally at the Alta Lodge a week or so later where I was celebrating a birthday.  It turned out we both had dogs, which led to an innocent “skiing  with dogs” date. Through sheer happenstance, we ended up on a hut trip together a week or so later and have been together ever since.

I‘m on the left, and Polly Beth Samuels, my future bride and co-owner of 12,000 metric tons of Chinese injection molded children’s crap is to my right.  2003, Hellroaring Hut, Montana.

Now, years later, I’m happily drowning in kid’s toys,  pink, pink, pink, two little girls and more princess gowns than I ever could have imagined. I’m convinced that our house foundation is cracking due to the weight of  kids toys.

The honorable Reverend Lou Dawson helps us through our  short vows in 2005 at the Our Lady of the Snows chapel at Alta.  Sean Graff photo.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s amazing how the bonding of frozen water molecules can lead to to the bonding of human beings. I’m a cold weather person, and to me, snow is the natural state of water.  Luckily, Polly seems to have similar interests.

Walking through an archway of crossed ski poles 2:38 minutes into our marriage.  Sean Graff photo

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Category: Commentary