She is listed as “NW Bike Trip Montana” in my phone. This is the coded way I’ve come to input new people in my life as a widower now dating for the first time in 30 years.

I met her on a gravel bike, 10 miles into the first day of a five-day trip that covered 250 miles and 25,000 feet of elevation. She rolled up next to where I had stopped on a ridge, unable in that defeated moment to will myself forward.

I was not remotely prepared for that kind of ordeal. I’d never ridden a gravel bike before. Being athletic and in shape is not riding-up-and-down-mountains in shape. I already felt physically and emotionally exhausted from climbing 8% gradient hills and avoiding sharp rocks and loose gravel patches on treacherous descents.

I was also angry about everything, including all the reasons I’d agreed to join my brother on that trip. He’d told me I’d make lifelong friends and have an unforgettable experience in an unforgettable place.…