Today was a rare weather treat, the torrential rain that had been pounding the west coast this past few days had finally waned and it was shaping up to be a legendary autumn day in the bike park.
Not so fast.....
I was informed today that a dear friend of mine had been tragically killed in a logging accident. This guy was the most, giving, kind-hearted, and selfless person. When his name is mentioned there is a genuine swell of admiration and respect that follows, I can honestly say I have never heard a person speak ill of him, ever. This is what makes it so very tragic. He was one of the good guys!!! When I was a still in the military I worked as a part time ski instructor at Mount Washington, on Vancouver Island. One year during our annual course conductor training I was introduced to him. We struck up an instant friendship, it wasn't hard to like him, he skied like a god, his charisma was inspiring. He planted a small seed and told me to consider moving to Whistler.
Everyone wanted to know him and those that did, wanted to be him.
He was the kind of guy who would give you his gloves, if you forgot yours, so you could teach, he would later jet to the valley with his hands in his pockets. He'd still ski better than you. The only thing I disliked about him was that I could never be as good as him, teaching or skiing.
I think what most people loved about him was that he lived larger than life, big truck, fast bike, fast skiing, big air, compelling smile, magnetic personality.
He will be missed for many years to come.
Every day he lead the charge and after a few words of inspiration he said...
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