Once when we had just started dating, Heather and I went to a local cider mill. We were walking along the river nearby and came to a staircase that went up a hill, but erosion had left us well below the bottom of the staircase. Heather, wearing big blocky heels, just stepped effortlessly right over the gap and up onto the stairs. I knew then that she would be able to hike the Grand Canyon. And, less than a year later she did. All the way down, through the primitive backcountry, and back up with not a single complaint. That's Heather.
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