Megan and I took a roadtrip to Mt. Scott in Southwestern Oklahoma on Saturday for a hike. It was a bit chilly and windy, but we both needed some outdoors and road-trippin’. Oh, and I had ulterior motives.
We got there later in the afternoon due to our usual unique blend of lallygagging, sleeping late, and destination shopping. After all our hemming and hawing (Lake Hefner? The dog park? Is it too cold and windy for a nature hike?) we circled back to our original plan to go to Mt. Scott and commune with the bison, longhorns, and whatever hills-have-eyes-weirdness happens at Holy City (Megan had never been there so I got to be her guide). So, being that it was later in the afternoon and we didn’t have time to hike up and down the mountain before dark, we just drove to the top to take in the view and meander around a bit.
Once we meandered far enough away from the majority of the hikers and tourists (save for a couple of Indian fellas who struggled to get just the right picture), I basically wowed her with the best, most lovingly tender speech about how much she means to me and how I don’t want to imagine life without her. It was a real tear-jerker. After my laboriously composed Ode, I got down on one knee and made my final case: Megan, will you marry me?
She responded with such a sincerity that would make any man’s heart sing: “I just farted.”
Anyway, after the air cleared, she said yes and we hiked around a bit. It was a good day.
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