Saying Goodbye

In my earliest memories I was a climber. Climbing trees, rocks, the hallway in my house (much to my my mom's dissaproval). As a teenager and adult, climbing became a part of my past. Eventually as an adult I rediscovered the childhood delight and challenge of the vertical world. It ignited my passion and desire to master this world. Climbing became a driving force in my life. I met climbers, mentors who taught me and helped to shape my climbing world. With each successive year of experience, I began to understand the inherent risks in the activity I loved. 

November 2007, I lost one of my best friends and climbing partners. Colin Wooldridge died as a result of injuries, having been swept down, due to an avalanche, the ice climb he and his partner had just completed.

Colin played a major role in my development as a climber. He was already an accomplished and experienced rock/ice climber and alpinist when I met him. It was serendipitous that he had recently moved to Calgary and was looking for willing partners and belay slaves. I came to the party by being eager for more experience. He took me on climbs that were above my ability, believing I had the skills before I believed in myself. He demonstrated an ethic and way of being in the mountains that I strove to emulate. He held me to a high standard of excellence. At times being patient, other times expecting me to keep up and get faster, at times being critical and other times being incredibly understanding. There were a few instances of me hurling rocks and/or insults at his ass which was what I mostly saw on approachs, climbs and descents! Colin taught me to work as hard as I could. I became motivated to see a personal trainer so I could keep up and do increasingly challenging objectives with him. Colin was impressed. Our attitudes made us compatible partners on both easy and hard climbs. We shared our love of the mountains, our awe of the beauty around us and our pleasure at the sheer joy of climbing. He was a wealth of experience and information and I continued to learn. Part of that learning was to define myself as a climber and how to set my own boundaries. A turning point happened when I let Colin know what type of climbing I was willing to do and what style of climbing was unacceptable to me. He respected my choices and we continued to be climbing partners in some arenas and not others. Colin demonstrated a commitment to our partnership regardless of its ups and downs, this developed into an enduring personal friendship. In addition to outdoor climbing Colin became a regular visitor to my house as he built a bouldering gym in my garage. For my part I provided food (the guy could eat) beer (the guy could drink) and help when he needed it. It was a shared vision and labour of love. We could talk ad nauseum about the requirements of the gym (and often did)!

I was thrilled when Colin realized a larger dream of finding a love relationship that would give him the ability to experience life as a devoted husband and potential father. He always had discerning  taste in people and relationships. Catherine loved him for who he was, respected his friendships and most importantly respected his love of climbing and the mountains. I was always grateful for her maturity and respect of Colin and I's particular relationship. While I initally didn't know Catherine well, I could recognize the qualities in her that warranted Colin's loyalty and love. It is bittersweet that Catherine was 3 months pregnant when Colin passed away. But I am heartened when I think that a part of him will live on in his child. Catherine now has a wealth of climbing aunts and uncles who will be an active and devoted part of their lives. Colin's relationships will endure in the future. We are bound by our love and respect. 

Colin understood risk better than most. He had placed himself in difficult and challenging situations many, many times. His choices were based on his vast depth of experience. That day on Mt Sparrowhawk, him and his partner made a measured decision to cross the snow slope at the top of the climb. Mountains do what mountains do, snow slopes sometimes slide when they appear stable and unfortunately Colin was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I am so grateful that his partner Brian survived. Sadly we are finding that 2007/2008 is being known as a particularly dangerous season for avalanches and the death toll keeps rising.

Colin lived his life as he wanted to. He understood the risks and was accountable for his actions. He pursued his passions with excellence and integrity. I was proud to be his friend.

My relationship to climbing has been irrevocably changed. The childhood innocence is tempered with a learning I didn't ask for. I've learned how to say goodbye. My intellectual understanding has been replaced with experience. There was never a doubt that I would continue to climb, the love and wonder has stayed intact. But I approach the sport with renewed respect and caution. Colin would be impressed.

Goodbye my friend.