I'm in a Glass Case of Emotion

I lost a good friend yesterday in an avalanche. I have been back and forth about whether or not to even mention it here, I don't want to make it super public or feel like I am exploiting him by writing about it, but I wanted to let you know why I wasn't writing much lately and I feel like I need to get this out. Technically, they haven't found his body yet, they may not find it until spring when the snow melts. It was a huge slide - a five foot crown that stretched about 40 feet. Those of you who know about snow science and avalanches know a five foot shelf is big.

My friend was a guy who never got a pass to the ski area and rode almost exclusively in the backcountry. Maybe he wasn't the most cautious guy ever, but he seemed to always have a grip on what he was getting into. So why was he out after getting three feet of snow in less than a week? "Well, you know ____" is all anyone can say. That's just how he did things.

He left on Wednesday morning to go ride a chute that sees a fair amount of backcountry traffic, albeit not lately with the storm cycle they've been in. Yesterday, when he hadn't yet returned people went to check his house, check the trailhead... He hadn't come back and his bike was still out there, where he had left it. Search and Rescue said they think they found the spot on the top of the chute where he dropped in, and just below that a huge fracture from the avalanche he most likely triggered. S&R, along with most of my friends, including my old roommates, are going out today to try and find his body.

I am crushed. The only thing I keep trying to tell myself is that he sucked every ounce of life out the time he had here. Homeboy made every day count and had more fun than anyone else doing it. He really enjoyed every day and did what made him happy. Always. He didn't have a big bank account, he didn't have a serious career, but he was a professional at enjoying what life and the outdoors had to offer. This was the guy you could always count on to be a partner in crime when you needed him to be; to climb a mountain in June to ski a 60 foot snow path that hadn't melted; to go to the bar and shithoused on a Monday night when you needed to do it. In short, he was just always there for anyone, anytime, and he loved it - no matter what it was. But no matter how much I tell myself that he enjoyed life and got a lot out of it, it still really tough to think that he won't get to do any of that stuff again, and he got shorted on a lot of years.

When he lived on our couch (for like 6 months) he and I would stay up every night, drink like 10-15 beers each - sometimes we would see who could slam a whole bottle faster, fun times that "adults" don't normally have on a regular basis outside a fraternity - and watch Anchorman. So I am going to put up a clip this week with some Anchorman moments for him. I know he would appreciate this, he's kind of a big deal.