How Kyle Proposed to Me on Isle Royale: Our Engagement Adventure

How Kyle Proposed to Me on a Backcountry Trip in Isle Royale National Park

Some stories are hard to tell because so much happened. This one is hard to tell for the opposite reason. It was quiet, remote, and just the two of us, deep into a multi-day backcountry trip on Isle Royale, and somehow that's exactly what made it feel so big.

We were six days into backpacking across the island when it happened, and I had absolutely no idea it was coming. I want to be clear about that part, because I'd gone through Kyle's pack several times over the course of the trip, the way you do when you're organizing gear or digging for something specific, and I never once found the ring. Looking back now, I still don't know how he pulled that off on a trip where there's nowhere to hide anything.

The Days Before, Deep in the Backcountry

The beginning of the trip was all effort. Isle Royale isn't an easy island to move across. We pushed hard those first few days, covering miles of water, working to reach the parts of the island we wanted to see, and it made everything after feel earned. By day six, we'd settled into a rhythm that only really shows up once you've been living outside for a while. I stayed back at camp one morning while Kyle went out fishing on Lake Superior, and I spent the time doing watercolor and organizing our gear. Simple, slow, exactly the kind of morning that makes a backcountry trip start to feel like home instead of just travel.

Later that day, we headed out to go trout fishing together. I caught the biggest lake trout either of us had ever felt, in the moment anyway, and we spent the afternoon laughing, half in disbelief at what we were pulling out of the water. It was one of those days on the trail that's just good from start to finish, no explanation needed. If someone had asked me to design the perfect day in the wilderness for a proposal to happen, I couldn't have written it better than the one we'd already had.

The Proposal on an Empty Shoreline

When we got back to camp, we wanted to catch some footage of the sunset over Lake Superior, so we hiked down to the beach and kept walking further than usual. I noticed Kyle moving quickly ahead of me, which struck me as odd, and I remember wondering why he wasn't waiting up. I got distracted looking at rocks along the shoreline, something I do constantly out there, and when I looked up he was already setting up the tripod. That part didn't even register as strange. We film moments like this all the time on our trips.

Then he grabbed my hands. He got smiley in that way he does, and then his voice went serious, and for a second I actually got nervous, like something might be wrong out on the trail. He started telling me how much he loved me, and somewhere in the middle of that, it clicked. I understood what was happening right as it was happening.

I was so surprised I almost lost the ability to stand on the rocks beneath me. It's hard to describe how a moment can feel enormous and completely private at the same time, but that's exactly what it was. Just the two of us, on a remote island in the middle of Lake Superior, with no cell service and no one else around for miles. I wasn't able to tell a single person for a few days afterward, and honestly, there was something really special about holding it just between us out there before the world got to know.

Celebrating an Engagement With an MRE and a Camp Stove

That night we got back to the shelter and made an MRE for dinner because that's what we had on hand. We sat outside, looked at the ring, talked, and laughed, and then went to bed early because we were completely worn out from the day's miles. We barely celebrated in any traditional sense. No toast, no plans, nothing fancy, just two backpacks and an island. But it still felt like a celebration, because the whole day already was one.

I remember lying there a little worried about losing the ring somewhere out on the island, since my hands kept getting cold every time we were out on the water. That fear stuck with me through the rest of the trip.

The next morning, I woke up and had the immediate thought: is this actually real? We got up, made coffee over the stove, and couldn't stop saying it to each other. Good morning, fiancé. Here's your coffee, fiancé. It was silly and wonderful, and I kept thinking about everything that phrase now meant, out there with nothing but wilderness around us. A whole new life to plan, and we'd be building it together.

Telling Everyone (Eventually)

Isle Royale doesn't have cell service nearly anywhere on the island, so we couldn't call anyone right away, which is part of what makes a proposal out there feel so different from anywhere else. We finally reached Kyle's parents on the drive home to share the news, and I got to call my own parents a couple of days later. I told the rest of my family soon after, and everyone was thrilled. I haven't been able to see them in person since it happened, but I'm heading downstate this fall, and I cannot wait to actually show off the ring instead of just talking about it over the phone.

Our Next Adventure

We don't have anything set in stone yet. Right now we're finishing up our time in Alaska. As far as our nuptials we are leaning toward eloping next summer, something small, just us or our immediate family. We'll likely plan a separate party down the road to celebrate with friends and family, because we want that too, just not as the main event. Our dogs will absolutely be involved somehow (I’m thinking Ollie in a tux) They're too big a part of our life not to be. Overall, we want it to stay simple and not lose the celebration of our love and life together. That's just how we live, and it only makes sense that the way we get married reflects that.