Me: Our first wedding took place in Lost Maples
Natural Area. We had come here on
vacation one year and fell in love with the place. We had picked out a spot about a two-mile
hike down the trail that was situated under a grove of maple trees, right near
a small picturesque pond. To get to it,
one had to not only hike the trail itself, which wound through the trees and up
and down the hills, but also leap across uneven stones that were placed
precariously in the middle of several rivers.
What
we hadn’t accounted for was the remoteness of the spot and the fact that there
were no buildings within two miles. So,
either the girls would have to wear their wedding dresses while hiking down the
trail, or we would have to come up with an alternative plan. The alternative came in the form of a small,
free-standing awning that my groomsmen and I had to carry all the way down the
trail and set up just down from the pond.
Thus, burdened with the awning, some sheets that we attached to the sides
to enclose it, and other items needed for the ceremony; we did not have the
luxury of carrying our clothes and changing at the pond. We hiked the entire two miles adorned in our
wedding outfits.
Spousal Unit:
Getting married in Lost Maples seemed like a
great idea, until we had to hike the five miles down the trail, carrying
armfuls of wedding dresses. My dress was
by far the heaviest, so we took turns, heaving it along the path and lifting it over our heads as we crossed
the stepping stones in the rivers. The
entire time the photographer was following along and snapping pictures of our
plight.
Me: Several hikers that passed us along the
trail, seeing us dressed in medieval garb and carrying non-descript bags,
mistook us for a band. They stopped us
to ask why we were performing in the park, and we simply told them that we were
going to a wedding, which seemed to satisfy them. One couple actually followed us back to the
pond to check out the wedding festivities.
We set up the awning a little way away from the pond, around a bend in
the trail, so that it wasn’t visible. We
attached sheets to the sides to enclose it, and then set off to scope out the
spot we had chosen for our ceremony.
Spousal Unit:
It was unusually hot for October in Texas, so
we were sweating profusely by the time we finally made it to the tent that the
boys had set up for us. It was off the
path a little ways and had been fully enclosed to give us privacy while we
changed. We set about stripping off our
sweaty clothes and shimmying into our dresses, stopping to touch up hair and
make-up on each other as we went.
Me: Now one of the things that the park ranger had
previously told us was that they did not reserve areas of the park for
ceremonies such as this. It was on a
first-come, first-serve basis. At the
time, this didn’t seem like such a big deal, but as we rounded the bend in the
trail, we realized how wrong we were.
There in the exact spot that we had chosen for our wedding, under our
picturesque trees and in our still little pond, was over a hundred Boy Scouts;
swimming, running, and playing. A
hundred half-naked, bony little boys traipsing all over the entire area.
I
couldn’t believe it. I stopped right in
the middle of the trail and just stared.
The one thought that flashed through my mind was, “My wedding is
ruined.” I actually think my groomsmen
were more upset than I was. One was
about to go on a rampage, plowing through those scrawny Scouts and flinging
their unconscious bodies into the pond. I
actually had to take a moment to try to calm him down before he went on a blood
rage. There was nothing for it, they had
pitched their tents off to one side and were over-running the spot we had
picked a year before.
After
a slight readjustment of location and a lot of deep breaths, I went to talk to
the Scout Master. I explained the
situation to him and asked if they wouldn’t mind vacating the pond during the
ceremony. He looked me dead in the eyes,
not a hint of a smile on his face, and said, “On one condition.”
A
million thoughts ran through my head, as I tried to figure out what he was
going to ask. Did he want money? Could we scrounge enough together between the
four of us to pay him off? Uncertainly,
I asked, “And what’s that?”
And
then he replied with the absolute last words I expected to hear; four unexpected
words. “You let us watch.”
Before
my mind could fully process, my mouth was already saying, “Of course.” And with that, his face broke into a grin, he
shook my hand, patted me on the back, and offered his congratulations. True to his word, he herded up all of the
boys and had them sit off to the side.
One hundred still half-naked Scouts; legs crossed, chins perched on
their hands, pond water dripping from their hair, eyes attentively fixed on the
scene they were about to watch, and completely and utterly silent; sat in a
group under the trees.
Spousal Unit: When we were ready, we headed down the trail
toward the pond. The exact spot was
still out of sight, hidden by a bend, so I had no idea until I was almost there
that we had an audience. A couple of
hikers were stopped on the trail watching the scene, and off to one side was a
large group of young boys, sitting cross-legged and shirtless. I was so focused on the boys, that I almost
tripped on a tree root going down the hill.
Not wanting to face-plant on my way down the aisle, I turned my
attention instead to my husband-to-be, standing by the pastor and looking
absolutely adorable in his white puffy-sleeved shirt and shimmering-black
velvet vest.
“This
was it,” I thought. “The moment was
finally here. After today, this man
would be my husband, and I would be his wife.”
My brother, holding on to my arm and walking me down the aisle, leaned
over and whispered, “I wish you all of the happiness in the world, my
sister. I wish our father could be here
to see how beautiful you look. We are
all proud of you. And if this American
doesn’t treat you like you deserve, then I want you to know that we are always
here for you…and that I have several large friends that will take him apart.”
Me: The trail itself afforded a natural aisle that
the procession could come down, winding around the pond and down through the
trees before meeting up with the pastor and me at the edge of the pond. The moment I saw the first flash of color off
of the first bridesmaid’s dress, my stomach started to churn. Despite all of the preparation and planning,
I was still nervous.
When
my wife-to-be finally made her way through the trees, her white dresses
dragging through the multi-colored leaves along the ground, I thought, “This
was it. This woman was going to be mine
forever. How did I ever get so lucky?”
