Jessica and I have known each other for about nine years. We met at Grace Baptist Church in Moscow. Her family also lived in Troy. I began riding my motorcycle to visit and came to know them well. A couple years later they moved away but I kept in touch by letter and drove to visit them a couple times on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington (Brett joined me once).
Jessica and I talked and wrote a lot last year about our friendship — if it could be more. But circumstances seemed to say no. I was sad about that for a while but I’m glad to have her visit and join me for some small adventures around my new home.
Jessica and I ride up from Boise and along the ridge farther than I’ve gone before. The road goes right up what looks to be a ski hill. There’s a gate but it’s wide open so we carry on to the top.
We park where the road reaches the lifts and walk around on foot, taking in views that, like our futures, neither of us has seen.