Last week Cowboy and I celebrated the 10 year anniversary of our first date. A decade of fun, I referred to it.
I remember the day as clear as a bell. We went snowboarding at Mt. Bachelor on a Friday when we didn't have classes. It was a bluebird powder day (there are not many of those in Oregon in January). And he was an incredible rider.
I used to use snowboarding, mountain biking or climbing as my filter for dates. Back in Washington, D.C., from whence I came, I would meet lots of guys at parties who professed to being snowboarders, bikers or climbers. So if asked for a date, I would suggest one of the above. Cowboy was the first guy in a long time who was better than me at one of the aforementioned sports. To this day, he's better than me at most outdoor sports. But I can still kick his ass rock climbing.
We ate a lunch of brought-from-home soup and sandwiches on the tailgate of Old Blue (his pick-up truck). Gus sat between us in the back, begging pets and sandwich crusts. I instantly saw a future with this man.
Just by coincidence, 10 years from that excellent day riding fell on CD14.