It’s a love affair that began 45 years ago on a hot, sweaty bike ride. It was also a test, although I only learned that afterwards. Loving him was essential, but not sufficient. With my five-speed avocado green Raleigh, a canvas pup tent strapped to the back of his black 10-speed Raleigh and the allure that we were headed someplace special, we took our first vacation together.

This vacation encompassed many firsts for me — first time on a week-long bike trip, first time camping and first time on the Vineyard. As we boarded the ferry from Woods Hole to Vineyard Haven, I detected his shoulders relaxing as he faced the sun and began to tell me about Martha’s Vineyard. His earliest memory is being two years old riding in a basket on the front of his father’s bicycle past the gingerbread cottages of Oak Bluffs. Later, he would return to the Vineyard many times with his own bike, camping at Cranberry Acres and exploring the empty roads in the off season.

Walking our bikes off the ferry into Vineyard Haven, I caught the sound of the air moving through the trees and a smell so unique that to this day with my eyes closed I could tell you if I am on the Vineyard. We took off for Webb’s Campground, Cranberry Acres having closed years earlier. Surrounded by families and RVs we leaned our bikes against a tree and he pitched our tent. As is so often the case when one is a novice my desire to be helpful led to numerous mishaps, but I quickly learned the basics, like how to roll up my clothes to serve as a pillow and to hang food from the trees out of reach from the ever-present skunks.

Our first bike ride was out to Aquinnah. Despite my best efforts and competitive spirit this was a challenge and so when we reached the Chilmark Store, he realized I needed a break. I was spent. And that’s when I learned about the healing properties of chocolate milk. He bought us each our own pint of this prized elixir and espoused its benefits for bikers. It’s easily digested, high in protein and with enough sugar for an energy boost. I was skeptical, afraid I might throw up, but trusted his experience and savored every drop. We pushed on and I had my first sighting of Gay Head Cliffs.

Going to the beach was part of my DNA, having grown up on Long Island, but nothing in my past prepared me for the majesty of the cliffs. The vibrant colors of the clay against the deep blue of the Atlantic took my breath away. We parked our bikes, shed our clothes and jumped into the ocean, laughing and celebrating our accomplishment.

Admittedly, these days I don’t bike out to Aquinnah as often as I used to, but biking is still our preferred mode of transportation on the Island. And whether we are resting at Morning Glory Farm, the Chilmark Store or Alley’s, the beverage of choice is always chocolate milk. We clink our pints together using the same toast we first said in 1979, “To the Vineyard!” And suddenly we are in our 20s again, flush with memories and love.

Maggie Mulqueen lives in Wellesley.