Losing friends to the mountains....
Years ago. while I was in my teenage years growing up around Cranbrook BC, there were only a small crew of snowboarders in the Valley. As we started to compete and travel a bit we were the "older kids" of the group. One of the groms at the time was "Little Clay"... he was a quiet, shy, short little ripper, who was always happy to be riding.. but never said much. His parents, or one of our crew always brought him up to the contests, and we all shredded together on the local stomping grounds in Kimberley.
Through the years Clay managed to grow up a bit... spoke up a little more often, and still was always happy playing in the snow. Like the rest of us, the natural progression of being in the snow playing led to Snowmobiles and backcountry powder hunting....
Yesterday I spent my day out in the mountains shooting. It was a beautifull day, blue sky, light dry powder snow..... seemingly perfect. At one point in the late afternoon I watched a big raven circling around where we were in those peaks. I have always been a believer that seeing Ravens in the mountains means some fallen mountain friend is watching over you... But it always makes me wonder who, and why?
At the days end, my phone came into reception from the backroads up the Squamish Valley, and almost immediatley I recieved one of those calls you never want to hear... -that call told me our old buddy Clay had been taken from us in an avalanche outside of Kimberley.
This past week I have witnessed a slide that shook me up pretty badly. I have posted, pleaded, and asked all my friends to make sure they played safe... But Mother Nature does not always play fair.
Clay, we will all miss you buddy, and thanks for watching out for us yesterday.
