Hartman

John was a trip. John dropped into my life in the late 70’s when he joined the staff at the research lab in Idaho Falls, Idaho. He introduced me to mountaineering. In our years together we explored and climbed many of the mountains in Idaho/Wyoming. We did the Grand Teton and Mount Moran in the Tetons; Warbonnet and others in the Cirque of the Towers along with Gannet in the Wind River range. We spent two weeks in the Sawtooth Wilderness hiking from Alturus lake to Redfish lake with several memorable climbs along the way.

It’s ironic that John died of heart failure - he had a heart of gold. Gold lasts forever, right?

My first impression of John was ‘He’s odd.’ Turned out I was right. But as our friendship developed his oddities became quirks and eventually ‘That’s John.’

We’re at the lodge at Mount Hood. I forget why; probably a ski trip. There’s an evening social hour in the Timberline Lodge Headhouse, a large room with a massive three-story stone fireplace. As the event progresses the woman I’m talking to blurts, “Look! There’s someone climbing the fireplace!” I turned and looked to where she was pointing and replied, “Umm. That’s John.” It wasn’t the first time I witnessed John’s inability to restrain his urge to climb.

John looked at the world through a child’s eyes. He kept that sense of a child’s wonderment alive as he aged, a unique accomplishment.

Atop Warbonnet in the Cirque. We encountered a rain shower while climbing, an uncomfortable experience. But now it’s a crystal azure sky, sun drenched granite peaks all around, sparkling from the shower. Staring down at Cirque lake John whispers, almost as a prayer, “Wow! Look at this. Oh wow, it’s so awesome! Wow!”

A butterfly in his garden could get the same reaction.

John, you were special.

Wow!