The Proposal
Our Engagement Story! (written by Carrie)
Let me begin by saying, Nick is a trickster, everyone who knows him will agree.
Every year Nick and Carrie invite many of their friends to Arcadia, MI for fun in the sun, relaxation and summertime activities. The summer of 2008 was no different and we began to make plans for the big weekend. Knowing that I love to find new activities when on vacation, Marta Strickland sent me a link to a website for the 3rd Annual Arcadia Historical Scavenger Hunt and I loved the idea!
The first clue soon came in the mail and I decided that we MUST win in order to get a 4th of July Sunset Cruise as our prize. Our team, made up of Tom & Marta Strickland, Dustin & Beth Gardner, Leslie Newland & Brian Confer and Nick & I, strategized over the first clue and decided that we should begin at the Arcadia Historical Museum. We arrived at the Museum and found that another team had already beaten us there! Bossily I told everyone that it was time to get a move on!
Through the discovery of very elaborate, difficult and historically accurate clues, the scavenger hunt took us from the museum to the lighthouse in Frankfort, to the wine cellar at the Betsie Bay Inn, to the church that sits atop Gravity Hill, to Lookout Point (the highest point along the Michigan dunes), to Camp Arcadia, and finally back to the gravestone of “Colonel Mustard” located somewhere within the Arcadia city limits. Now, I must admit that at this point, knowing that Nick is an avid fan of “Clue” from his childhood, I should have thought that something was amiss, but it never dawned on me! And to make matters more interesting, there was a suspicious van full of elderly women following us along from the time that we stopped for a Gardnerd-certified beer at Gravity Hill.
We took a “quick break” at the house to regroup and then set out in small groups - and in torrential sheets of pouring rain - to search for Colonel Mustard’s gravestone. Nick loves to make sure that while telling this story, I mention that due to the sudden downpour, he asked if I wanted to wait until the rain cleared up to continue our hunt. I emphatically replied that “the other teams aren’t going to wait!” Therefore, he and I were forced to wear the only rain coats available at my parents’ cottage: Nick donning green-and-white and I in my maize-and-blue.
Nick really wanted to search down “our” street, where we own land, and I love to walk by and imagine the amazing house we will one day build there, so we headed toward our property. Along the way I reprimanded Nick for looking at the ground instead of scanning the surrounding yards for a grave marker. As we neared our property, I noticed a small plastic gravestone, strangely reminiscent of Halloween parties at the Strickland’s, hidden in the far corner near the tree line. The rain began to let up and Nick, containing his excitement, pulled me toward it. Suddenly I began to feel as if I had been duped. I looked at him bewildered and murmured, for the first of many times that day, “shut up!”
I began formulating possible explanations in my head: Colonel Mustard really died on our land?? Mom and Dad set me up with a detour from the Historical Society scavenger hunt to be funny?? Nick planned this whole scavenger hunt for me and all of our friends to have a great time while in Arcadia?? Our friends set Nick and I up to see if we would buy the whole scavenger hunt idea?? What was going on here?? We arrived at the grave marker and pulled the now-familiar type of flowery-papered, ribbon-tied clue in a plastic baggie off of the grave. I opened it and found a greeting card with a pensive chimpanzee (I don’t like monkeys!!) on the cover.
The inside of this card was filled with a poem by Nick about all the amazing things we’ve been through and how much he loves me - I’ll admit, at this point, I still hadn’t figured out what was going on. I once again exclaimed, “shut up!” and noticed, out of the corner of my eye, Nick fumbling around in his green-and-white coat pocket. All of a sudden he was on one knee, with water from his hair running into his eyes, and he was telling me a whole bunch of stuff. What stuff, I’m not even sure, because my head was spinning from confusion and excitement.
As I rose to hug him and exclaim, “Yes, of course!” our friends began appearing out of the bushes along the tree line. I think it was Dustin who popped a bottle of champagne and passed around plastic cups. We stood there in the emerging sunlight, drenched and hugging, enjoying the moment with wonderful friends, in a meaningful place, with a promise of a long life together. Awwwww…. 
Post Script:
The “3rd Annual Arcadia Historical Scavenger Hunt” was all a cleverly and meticulously orchestrated sham, designed to trick me, and me alone.
We never discovered the identity of the mystery women in the minivan.
The Scavenger Hunt website and the contact links were all orchestrated by Marta.
My father didn’t help me when I called him about a clue because he was scared to let the cat out of the bag.
Nick had been planning this event, with the knowledge of many of my friends and family, since February.
The gravestone had, in fact, been part of a Strickland Halloween party.
Nick purposely planned for us to “overtake the other team” at Betsie Bay Inn so that we could all take a break and have a micro-brew.
There was never any other teams playing against us, but we coincindentally messed up another team, from another scavenger hunt (really?!?), who was mistakenly given one of our clues. oops!!
Our friends used GPS to sneakily travel the 4 blocks from the cottage to our land, sight-unseen by me.
And finally, there was no prize of a sunset cruise. Instead I got a ring! But… if you all come to Frankfort, you might just get to take part in my long-awaited sunset cruise!