Dinner and a Mountain

I didn't talk to Jeff again until he came to pick me up on Wednesday. My class had gotten out late so I was running behind, but I was still surprised when Jeff was sitting on the sofa in our living room waiting for me. He acted as though time was irrelevant, but I could tell he was anxious to get going. I ran back to my room, changed quickly into old jeans and a sweatshirt, and we headed out. My attire was not particularly attractive, but Jeff had warned me that 4-wheeling can be a dusty and dirty experience.

As we headed south to Jeff's hometown, he explained that we were going to meet his grandpa (who owned the 4-wheelers) at his parents house. Whoa, his parents house? Isn't it a little early to be meeting the family? This is why you should never date locals. Their families are much too easy to run into.

Despite my nervous thoughts, I nonchalantly hmmed in response to his explanations. He proceeded to tell me that we would not be alone on this excursion. His grandpa was not only supplying the four-wheelers, he was accompanying us on the trip. Great, a chaperone. How old are we? Oh, and Michele was coming, too.

"Michele? Who's Michele?"
"A girl from my mission."
"From your mission?"
"She wanted to come live in the States for a few months, so my parents are letting her stay with them." There seemed to be more of a story there, but I dropped it in order to give myself time to prepare for the unexpected company.
"So, is Michele going to be your grandpa's date?"

Jeff later told me he was surprised when, after we'd been dating for a bit, he found out I wasn't a total airhead. Looking back, I can see how questions like this may have lead him to that conclusion. My response: why did you keep dating me if you thought I was so clueless? Dang, I must have been really cute.

I digress.

The thought of Michele being his Grandpa's date struck Jeff as pretty funny, and we spent the rest of the drive with him periodically remembering my airhead question which would start a fresh batch of chuckles. I decided it would be in my best interest to keep my mouth shut the rest of the afternoon.

We pulled up to Jeff's parents house and I identified his Grandpa as the man leaning against a Suburban, glancing at his watch with annoyed impatience. No need to worry about awkward encounters with Jeff's family. As soon as I got out of the car we hurried over to the Suburban and drove away. Grandpa was a man on a mission.

Once we were on our way up the canyon and introductions were past, tensions eased and Grandpa launched into a parade of stories and tall tales. As we listened, Jeff and I rummaged around the back to find jackets, goggles, helmets, and a matching set of gloves that would fit. Apparently my sweatshirt get-up was not going to cut it. Luckily, Grandpa had filled the entire back seat with at least a closet's worth of old winter gear. By the time we pulled up to the trail head, I looked like an overstuffed camouflage snowbunny. Despite the concern on the part of the male half of the party for the female's warmth and comfort, Jeff declined the extra coat and goggles in lieu of his windbreaker and sunglasses. And since there weren't enough helmets to go around, he kept his baseball hat as his only head covering. Man, I had a thing for guys in baseball hats.

(This picture isn't actually from our first date. What? You already knew that? What gave it away?
Our one-year-old son? Oh, yeah, I guess that would do it.)

This being my first 4-wheeling adventure, I let Jeff take the wheel (or handlebars) first. Michele sat behind Jeff's Grandpa. We started off up the trail. I immediately could see why my late classes were problematic. Before we had even begun, the sun was low in the sky and the air was chilly. We rode quickly up the main trail and soon were on a narrower path. Our conversations were limited because the wind and roar of the motors blocked out almost all other sound. I've never been very good at small talk so I just enjoyed being able to hold on to Jeff's waist chiseled abs (editorial correction from Jeff) as we rode through the rustic mountain setting.

After we'd been riding for 20 minutes or so, we stopped in a small clearing.
"You ready?" Jeff asked.
"For what?"
"To drive."
"Um, you know, I actually prefer riding."
Jeff ignored my comment and began explaining how to brake, how to change gears, and how to not drive us into a ditch. Meanwhile, his Grandpa gave the same speech to Michele. I had the advantage of the two of us, though. Michele's English was still rough around the edges, and I had to question how much of the tutorial she understood.

The next thing I knew I was sitting on the front of the 4-wheeler and we were starting back up the trail. After a few small hiccups, we were smoothly on our way. My nerves relaxed, and I gained confidence with every turn. We stayed behind the other 4-wheeler to avoid their dust. I began dropping farther back to give us some extra privacy. We were far enough behind that the slowly settling dust was the only sign of anyone else along the trail. I could feel the warmth from Jeff's body on my back. Mmm, this is nice.

I had to focus on the road as we came around a wide bend, interrupting my girlish daydreams. Instead of the empty trail I was expecting to see, we came upon Jeff's grandpa trying to get their 4-wheeler out of a mess of brush while Michele sheepishly watched from the hillside.

"Oh no." Jeff mumbled. Well, he probably shouted, but over the engine it cames across as a murmer. "Her parents are going to kill me."

Jeff jumped off to assist his grandpa while I exchanged nervous glances and giggles with Michele, which was as much as the language barrier allowed us to do. I did notice her jeans were torn below her knee.

"Are you ok?" I asked slowly.
"I am fine!" Michele replied enthusiastically in her thick accent. She gave me an embarrassed smile so I let the conversation die there.
"Let's get this show on the road," Grandpa called from the now rescued 4-wheeler. "I think I'll drive this time, Michele." Wink.

We picked up where we'd left off and drove another 15 minutes through glorious autumn splendor. I was new enough to Utah that I was still learning to appreciate mountain beauty. Just before we turned around to come back, we reached a crest that set us overlooking a breathtaking view of reds, greens, yellows, oranges, and everything in between. I think I even saw some purple. As I stared in dumbfounded awe, Jeff patted himself on the back for a date well done. He gave me a few minutes to take in the intoxicating mountainside, then offered to drive again. I slid back into the passenger position.


The drive back down felt faster than the ride up. I relaxed and let my helmeted head rest against Jeff's back. Darkness set quickly and by the time we reached the bottom all we could see was the angled path of light from the 4-wheeler's headlights. The men loaded the machines and before I knew it we were back at Jeff's car saying thank-yous and goodbyes.

Although it was dark, it was only 6:00. I wondered if Jeff would take me straight home or if he had other plans. I didn't have to wonder long.

"So, are you hungry?"
Starving. "A little."
"What sounds good to you?"
I shivered and thought about all the warm foods I could choose from. "Soup."
[pause]
"Soup?" The expression on his face was almost repulsive. What's wrong with soup, I thought. Again, I had a lot to learn about guys. "Ok. Soup it is." He suggested a pizza place that might have good soup (he wouldn't know as he NEVER ate soup) and I concurred.

When it came time to order, he asked if I was sure there wasn't anything else I wanted. It hurt his pride to have me order the cheapest thing on the menu. But it had nothing to do with the price. All I wanted was a bowl of hot, steamy, creamy, comforting broccoli soup.

We chatted about trivial things while he ate his pasta dish and I slurped my soup. Then he took me home. For now, I didn't want this to last longer than a short fling. I was only 19 and not ready for anything serious. Besides, the missionary halfway around the world was always at the back of my mind. But I was having fun and, for the moment, I wasn't lonely. I had something to contribute to our apartment girl talk. I had someone to be with on the weekends. I had someone to lie awake at night thinking about. Regardless of the ultimate outcome, I couldn't wait to see Jeff again.