Teresa Hagerty
One of the most important relationships of my life is not my husband. My (other) other half can complete my sentences, always knows just what to say, and somehow manages to love me before I’ve had my morning coffee. She catches me when I fall, keeps my spirts high, and ropes me into some of the best adventures I’ve ever had. Yes, my husband knows, and the three of us get along great. I’m talking, of course, about my climbing partner.
A good climbing partnership is more than just a friendship. Our relationship is as meaningful as some romantic relationships – if not more so. I know she’ll have my back, support me through the rough spots, and find humor in being tent-bound in a surprise ice storm. I trust her enough to admit when I’m scared, openly cry tears of joy on mountain summits, and know that she’ll wordlessly offer me chocolate when I need it in the middle of a four-day sufferfest. I have no hesitation in trusting her, quite literally, with my life. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.
Sadly, life has a way of challenging even the strongest of bonds. This moment came for us almost two years ago. The words “I’m moving to Utah for work” were some of the most heartbreaking I’ve ever heard. We keep in touch, and we do our best to adventure together as often as possible, but the long-distance nature of our belaytionship has its limitations.
It’s time to open my heart to the possibility of another. She will always have a place on my rope, but now there is space for one more.
Which brings me here, posting my first outdoor singles ad in search of my next great belaytionship. Darling, let’s be adventurers.
Active Outdoorswoman Seeks Same
Me: 40-something lover of meaningful outdoor experiences. I enjoy long approaches to remote mountaineering objectives, all-day cycling routes, and lakeside backcountry campsites. I live for alpine starts, mountain shadows, backcountry skiing dawn patrols, and trailhead tailgate parties. Few things make me happier than the silence of powder under my skis or the feeling of standing on an alpine summit. Not to brag, but I’m a great catch – you’ll never feel safer on the sharp end, my dear.
You: 35 - 45-year-old female who enjoys like-minded activities. You promise to encourage me at mile 12 on the third day of a four-day slog, enthusiastically participate in 3am 80s music sing-a-longs, and consider permit season the most important event on your social calendar. You commit to keeping your outdoor skills sharp and always having back-up whiskey. You believe in the importance of Leave No Trace principles to keep our wild places beautiful. Your love language is the exchange of remote destination .gpx routes and high fives exchanged on summits. Bonus points for well-behaved canine companions.
Us: I promise to respect your objectives, risk tolerance, and needs as much as my own. I commit to always having your back, supplying terrible dad jokes when needed, and always treat our plans as my 'Plan A.’ I look forward to sharing your future outdoor successes, encouraging you through rough spots, and always double-checking your tie-in knots. Darling, for the two of us nothing is impossible.
Won't you be mine?
LEAD IMAGE OF A Summit Kind of Love. Photo by Paul Pottinger, pottinger.net.
This article originally appeared in our Summer 2020 issue of Mountaineer Magazine. To view the original article in magazine form and read more stories from our publication, visit our magazine archive.
