There is a list on the corner of Jerry Rupert’s desk, nestled among permit applications and trip logistics. It’s slightly yellowed from age and a bit crinkled from updates.

A total of 11 couples’ names are recorded there, their pencil-marked names filling almost half the paper. It is the unofficial marriage list of the Outdoor Recreation Program, and Rupert keeps it within arm’s reach.

“We’re averaging about a marriage a year,” Rupert said.

He started tracking the trend in his fourth year as assistant director of the program. He has just finished recording the 12th year. In that time, his office has seen 10 marriages and one engagement.

“I’m going to be a ‘grandfather’ a third time,” Rupert said, grinning broadly through his graying beard. “And that’s just the Outdoor Rec staff,” he noted, referring to the student employees who supervise the climbing wall and lead trips across the nation.

Participants have also proposed during Outdoor Rec trips, and sometimes couples will sign up for that very reason, Rupert explained. But beyond participants passing through, he noticed the staff pairing up in steady, lasting relationships. It happened frequently and consistently. The question is, “why?”

“It’s time,” Rupert said with conviction. “You have to spend time with somebody to get to know them.”

Staff members teach workshops and lead trips together anywhere from a weekend to a week at a time, he said. In woods or canyons where they might not see another group for the duration of the trip, Rec Services staff rely on each other to solve problems and provide support. Comfort levels increase and relationships spring naturally.

Scott White understands the phenomenon. He has seen it firsthand.

Before joining Iowa State’s Recreation Services as the associate director of business operations and planning, White served as associate director of Recreation Services for 18 years before handing the reins over to Rupert. Before that, he led trips for the Outdoor Recreation Program as a graduate assistant.

It was during one of those trips, a weekend canoeing expedition on the Cedar River in July of 1976, that he met his wife, Pam White, now the dean of the College of Human Sciences. The Outdoor Rec Program matchmaking didn’t stop there.

“Bruce and Chuck were the first two who ended up marrying — Charlene, but she went by Chuck,” White said, leaning back in his chair and counting off couples on his fingers. “Then Wayne and Carol, and Pete and Jenny, and you do start noticing after a while that people are developing romantic attachments.”

White associates the program’s high marriage rate with its number of staff members.

“There’s never much more than 30 people working at Outdoor Rec at any one time,” he explained, as opposed to hundreds of student employees working in facility operations or intramural sports during peak periods. It’s a relatively small group of people with similar interests working in close proximity.

“You’re kind of matched up with people who like being outside, and who like or certainly don’t mind getting dirty or trashed out because you do. Whether it’s out on a trip or working down in the maintenance areas, you get destroyed,” White laughed. “And you’ve got folks who are doing this side-by-side … it’s almost a set-up.”

SCENIC PROPOSAL (Justin & Nellie Simon, ’05 and ’06)

The granite rock formations at Vedauwoo, Wyoming, catch the eye all the way from I-80, jutting out against an otherwise desolate landscape. The pinkish-beige boulders are huge and rounded, striated with green lichen and jumbled haphazardly into towers. Set against crystal blue skies, or “bluebird skies,” as Outdoor Recreation Program alumnus Justin Simon calls them, it’s a striking area for a proposal. But there are drawbacks.

“The climbing area’s at 8,000 feet, so it’s always windy,” Justin explained.

It was New Year’s Eve in 2005 when he and Nellie Young scaled the formations and wind speeds topped 40 mph. The sun was shining and temperatures were unseasonably warm. In every other respect, conditions were ideal. But proposing on top of a formation was impossible.

“I didn’t want us to get blown over,” he said.

The two wandered through the maze-like granite formations for more than an hour while Justin searched for the perfect spot.

“Nellie’s happy, hiking around, oblivious,” Justin remembered. “I couldn’t get her to go in the right direction.”

The two eventually wandered into a semi-sheltered area and with Nellie distracted by the scenery, he sneaked out the ring and knelt down. The screaming started as soon as she turned.

“She might have said ‘yes’ before I even got out the question,” he said, a grin in his voice.

“I don’t think I even answered you,” she teased back.

It was sweet fulfillment for a relationship that had started less than two years prior to the proposal. The two had met when Justin led a spring break trip to Joshua Tree National Park in Southern California. Nellie, a newer Outdoor Rec worker, accompanied him as an apprentice. It was a 32-hour drive from Ames and trip leaders drove straight through in shifts.

Justin’s driving shift came in the middle of the night. From 10 p.m. to dawn, while other van occupants slept, the two of them downed homemade Scotcharoos, chatted and flirted, “not caring who was in the backseat listening in.”

It’s the “classic Outdoor Rec story,” he said. Friendships are made and relationships forged in a 15-passenger van.

“You have these philosophical talks with everybody when it’s 2 a.m. and you’re still driving,” Nellie agreed. “You talk about religion and your childhood and where you want to go after college.”

The two are married with a daughter, Wilha, and another on the way. The Simons live less than half an hour from the Vedauwoo formations, and their ties to the site are strong. They chose their daughter’s middle name, Rose, on a different day in Vedauwoo, on a September hike through trails lined with rosehips.

CALM IN A CRISIS (Nick & Rachel Schneider, ’13)

Although Nick and Rachel Schneider may have met as classmates at Waukee High School, their story begins in a secluded canyon in southern Illinois.

A mutual friend had arranged the climbing trip in May 2010, the summer following Nick’s first year at Iowa State and Rachel’s first year at the University of Iowa. The small group of friends planned five days of swimming, bouldering and climbing. The ill-fated trip lasted only two days.

“One of the guys broke his ankle on the second day,” Nick explained, the result of a lead climbing fall and an incorrect landing. The ankle swelled up instantly to the size of a softball.

“I’d never seen anything like it,” he said.

Although it wasn’t an Outdoor Rec-sponsored trip, Nick had worked there his first year at Iowa State and his training kicked in. He enlisted the group’s help in evacuating his friend from the area, but they were a long way out. They took turns carrying the man fireman-style out of the canyon, across streams and over dogs’ paths.

Rachel ran ahead with the gear and returned to assist with the evacuation. The task took three hours in 100-degree heat.

When the group finally reached its tiny Pontiac Sunfire, the members carefully propped their friend’s leg on the car’s center console and drove to the hospital. Road bumps set off screams of pain and the two worked together to keep him calm as they drove. The day became an exercise in teamwork and it brought them together.

“I saw how calm and cool we both are in a crisis situation,” Rachel said.

The admiration was mutual.

“If we can work together to carry someone out for three hours, we can do anything,” Nick added.

The two paired up shortly afterward, first as a long-distance relationship punctuated by occasional visits. Rachel’s visits to Ames resulted in friendships with Nick’s Outdoor Rec coworkers and she opted to transfer to Iowa State in January 2011 and join the program staff. The decision started a journey for the two of them.

“We fell in love over many outdoor trips,” she said, adding that bonding with other staff members was no less important.

There was an immediate “sense of family and closeness” at the program, she said, reinforced by the time spent away in the wilderness. The friendships the couple formed there were uniquely strong. Some of their coworkers flew more than 1,700 miles to attend the couple’s October 2014 wedding in Bend, Ore.

The Schneiders’ names are scrawled toward the bottom of Rupert’s marriage list, the most recent wedding in a long tradition.

SAME WAVELENGTH (Michael Niland (’14) and Liz Happ (’17))

The Outdoor Rec Prom has been held in May for the past 10 years. The inaugural prom was held in the Outdoor Rec garage, Rupert remembered. His then 4-year-old daughter was elected prom queen by program staff. 

The prom has evolved, grown larger and more energetic, but it remains an Outdoor Rec institution. The party’s theme is difficult to nail down, but Outdoor Rec alumnus Michael Niland described the dress code as “most appalling outfit.”

“Everyone has their own take on that,” he added, and staff creativity is let loose.

Last May, Michael raided Goodwill for a tacky three-piece suit. It was a “brown tweed jacket, fake leather vest, pants that were this rough, gray heavy material … just hideous,” he recalled. His Outdoor Rec coworker, Liz Happ, sported a psychedelic cat T-shirt and coordinating feline-themed socks.

The two had met a little more than a month earlier when Michael led a Spring Break trip to the Appalachian Trail. Liz, who had worked for the program less than a semester, attended the trip to assist and observe.

“She had a boyfriend at the time, so we didn’t talk much on the trip,” Michael explained, but said he admired her positive attitude and she admired his quiet leadership.

When Michael and Liz, both single at the time, bumped into each other on the prom dance floor, they found their chance to connect.

The loud music forced the pair to the outdoor porch to talk. Michael perched on the wooden railing and Liz sat below, and the music and partygoers became a dull background roar. They chatted about hiking blisters, sore muscles and the strangeness of receiving cell service and Internet again after a week away from society. Topics glided, and even silences were comfortable.

“It was just easy,” Michael remembered.

Other guests came and went, occasionally looking through the window and wondering about them, but they did not return.

Their porch-side chat lasted well into daybreak, until they finally moved their conversation to Café Beaudelaire to refuel.

“We bumped into another Outdoor Rec couple there and they were like, ‘Oh, another Outdoor Rec relationship,’” Liz said.

It was an unexpected connection, but it turned out to be a strong one. In nine months, the pair has weathered Michael’s graduation and relocation to Des Moines, along with Liz’s out-of-state internship and her short study abroad stint in Thailand.

Skype and weekend trips helped keep them close, Liz said, and their love for the outdoors still binds them. The way Michael and Liz describe it, it almost defines them.

“It’s so much more than having a common hobby,” Michael said. “Being outdoors connects to the job people go into, the experiences they want to share, the people they love and care about.”

Liz agreed, taking the philosophy a step further.

“Outdoor Rec brings people together, but why they stay together…” Liz mused, her voice trailing off.

“If you crave that adventure, it’s not something that just goes away. It’s a core value,” she concluded, choosing her words slowly and carefully. “And if you fall in love with someone, why would you fall out of love if your values are the same?”

COMMON HEARTS

In the heart of the Outdoor Recreation Program offices, behind rows of rental backpacks and thermal coats, hangs the alumni board. It’s a collage of pictures taken during trips, a reminder of staff members gone by — students coated in mud, arms slung over shoulders, kerchiefs holding back wild hair.

The Schneiders’ marriage announcement occupies one corner, held in place by a length of parachute cord. The faces of additional couples pop up here and there — the Biglers, the Hendersons and the Groths. All are smiling confidently. However, they managed to find each other, their smiles make sense.

They have found a common heart to ground them and helping hands to boost them as they climb toward a bluebird sky.