For our third date, we spent 12 hours hiking. It was way better than dinner, and we're still together 2 years later.

• Tired of basic dinner dates, I suggested trying a hiking challenge with a fairly new love interest.
• For our third date, we spent 12 hours together having deep conversations and hiking through fog.
• Our unconventional date brought us closer, and we've now been together for two years.

I used to find dating quite fun: the flurries of excited texts, first-date nerves, debriefs with friends, and endless dinner reservations.

But, by 2024, drawing chairs at restaurants had started feeling stilted — boring, even.

I wanted to quit the "speed dating" experience and, to be honest, enjoy my food in peace. I was craving adventure, novelty, and the opportunity to fast-track an evaluation of someone's character.

So, that February, when my now-boyfriend, Greg, invited me on a third date, I bit the bullet. Instead of a dinner date, I suggested a twist: a 12-hour hiking challenge.

I was excited to try something more radical than getting dinner

Public spaces are a smart spot to meet in early dating. However, on the topic of hobbies, we'd discussed hiking, and by the third date, I felt comfortable enough to meet in an isolated location.

Greg had floated the idea of hiking a peak in the Yorkshire Dales National Park: Whernside, Ingleborough, or Pen-y-ghent.

They are located in such close proximity that they're often hiked as part of the "Yorkshire Peaks Challenge," he'd explained. The goal was to hike all three — about 25 miles — in under 12 hours.

My ears had perked up at "challenge," and I was instantly sold. Forget dinner or just one easy stroll: I wanted to complete all three.

I knew I'd enjoy it and it felt like a great way to test our compatibility.

Nothing shows someone's true colors like exhaustion, right? If conversation flowed on such a demanding date, it had to count for something.

Within a week, we were up early and headed to the trailhead

By the following Saturday, it was 4:30 a.m., and we were driving — bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived — to the trailhead.

As we set arrived at Chapel-le-Dale, the village "starting point," I couldn't help feeling a little nervous.

My best friend had my location and knew my plans, but it still felt strange spending such a prolonged period with a stranger.

The sky was still inky black and the area was quiet. Between polite conversation, silence was broken only by bleats from sheep at random intervals.

We spent 10 minutes walking in the wrong direction, giggled, and eventually found the right trail. The weather couldn't have been worse; boggy British moorland with thick fog shrouding even the stars.

Still, we began to find our rhythm: sparking conversation while shining phone torches on the roughly trodden path.

It felt like bonding in fast-forward

Two hours passed, and we'd summited the first peak and were marching to the second. It struck me that, at this point, a traditional dinner date would be drawing to a close.

True, we might be grabbing post-dinner drinks. But perhaps our social batteries would have died, and we'd be walking to a train station — straining to listen to each other in a noisy crowd.

After four hours, I was starting to appreciate the intimacy of this experience.

He received sad news on the walk; we discussed it together. On an empty stomach, I drank too much water and felt queasy on the first peak; he awkwardly patted my back while I caught my breath. There was humor, laidback problem-solving, and emotional support.

We'd covered more topics than I can remember.

I'd been keen to avoid relationships where tension created arguments, and every slip, spilled drink, or missed turn was building a clearer idea of compatibility. It was a surprisingly relaxed atmosphere in a deliberately challenging scenario.

By 1:30 p.m., we stood, elated, at the trig point of the final peak. We hobbled the long few hours back to Chapel-le-Dale on drenched and blistered feet.

Still, there was a shared sense of achievement, and we were quietly ecstatic to have beaten the 12-hour deadline.

After such a great experience, I'd always recommend a 'radical' third date

Sometimes, a little risk goes a long way. Monotonous dates were killing my motivation to meet people, but this experience felt different.

We'd tested compatibility in "the real world," rather than an interview-like reservation at a polished dinner table. It seemed to break a wall, which ironically, neither of us realized was actually there.

We're still going strong two years later and have continued to wear down our hiking boots, from climbing Kilimanjaro to going on quieter weekend strolls.

However, there is something special about that original hike. I'm grateful that we took a gamble on an unorthodox date idea.