I love to hike, but I am married to a reluctant hiker. Translation: he actually likes to hike once I can get him on a trail. This may involve suggesting, asking, cajoling, and/ or answering many questions and providing hypothetical solutions. There is ritual involved with often repeated refrains.

For this trip, the suggestion…. “I really want to hike a trail while we are in Sedona at least one day.” “What day do you want to hike with me?” “Let’s take a pink jeep tour and scope out the place.” “Is today the day? Okay we can go tomorrow.”

On the last day in Sedona it is finally “the long hike day”. I have scoped out two trails in two different parks. I figure a half hour drive between them will be an incentivized rest break. Plus, I will offer lunch.

He is surprisingly agreeable and asks “How far do you want to walk?” I answer, “I’d like to see the sacred pools.” “How far is that?” “It depends which route we take.” It always helps to give options, but he is smart and on to my tricks. “Which way is shortest?” “The shortest way may not be the most scenic.” “Yeah, but it is hot.” “That is why we are going early.” “How early? I don’t like early.” “Then we can go later .” “But then it will be hot.” And so it goes.

We drive to the trailhead and the lot is full. “Now what?” “We need to drive to the park we passed a while back and park there.” “That was like a mile ago.” “It was a half mile.” “But that will add another mile to the hike.” “Yep, it will.” “So we are doing this anyway?” “Yes”. Heavy sigh. “You can drop me off and come get me later.” “I am already parked now.”

“It is hot.” “I am sorry.” “I have sweat everywhere my clothes are soaked.” “I am sorry.” “I am gonna stand here in the shade.” “Okay.” And so it goes.

But also there is laughter and hand holding and beautiful scenery. He loves me enough to come along, even if it isn’t on his must do list. And when I turn into the hiker who never met a bend in the road I didn’t want to see beyond and the miles begin to accumulate, it is okay if he decides to sit out. For me the act of hiking is the important part, not the destination. I can go a few miles on my own and then loop back. We can take some time to sit in the shade or wade in the creek. But it is important that we share the moments, even if we drive each other crazy in the process.

“It is only a few miles.” “You said that three miles ago.” “Fifteen more minutes.” “Sure, and donkeys fly.” “Are you sure you are going the right way?” “It’s what the trail app says.” “Why is everyone else headed that way?” “I hate going uphill. Are you going to wait for me?”, says he. “Slow down, I can’t go downhill that fast,” says me. “Did you bring water?” “You shouldn’t be walking in those shoes, you’re going to turn an ankle.” “What are we doing for lunch?”

The new lines keep coming. But the song is as old as time. It is the language of life long love, a familiar duet performed among the red rocks. If you have been married for decades, you likely know the lyrics. Feel free to sing along.