Memorial at the park.



Passing the Rusty Piton


On Tuesday August 10th 2010, some of Lee's friends from the Washingtion Alpine Club and other places that Lee worked and played gathered at Magnuson Park in North Seattle. We wanted to remember Lee, share stories and support each other. It's amazing how many people Lee touched, and I know it helped me to see and hear from the rest of you there.


bill true

2 memories of Lee

Two of my favorite memories of Lee, one of which is one of my favorite memories of climbing.   I, as most do, loved the Basic class and all of the WAC instructors who brought me into this crazy world of climbing and, of course, taught me how to be safe while doing it.  The day my group summited the Tooth, I was hooked on Alpine climbing forever - what an amazing day!
I'll always remember how much I looked up to Lee, especially on that day - such a fit and sprightly climber, and at his age - wow ;)  I remember rappelling down the tooth and Lee mentioning that he just hated rappels, and me thinking - what?  a weakness?  Super-climber rappelling down Kryptonite?  Naw.  A year later, even after he pulled a rock onto himself climbing, and was on crutches, he didn't loose his gumption and desire to conquer - I loved his water bottle holder that he affixed to his crutches.   What a riot and what a kind man. 
I'll remember you Lee!
XO, Kate Ronkainen

I first met Lee in the WAC back country class in 2006. I recall being impressed with his knowledge and with how generously he shared it, but mostly I recall how his smile made me feel welcome. My climbs with Lee were few but memorable. It seemed a privilege then to be in his company—a feeling which now is only amplified. He taught me how to properly set a nut and treated me as an equal, noob though I was.

Lee before the Kangaroo Temple

Thank you, Lee.

~Dave Wilson

I saw Lee at Camp Schurman the day before he died.  We had completed our climb and were headed out, while he was preparing to climb the next day.  Lee was his usual exuberant, energetic and friendly self, asking about my health and climbs I had done and talking enthusiastically about his climbs and the WAC.  Typical Lee:  interested in others and excited about climbing.  His death is a great loss to the WAC and to the climbing community.  He was a great guy and will be sorrily missed.

John Sanford

Frisbee on the Galcier

With a twinkle in his eye, I remember Lee turning to me on the Nisqually Glacier and saying, "Do you want to play frisbee?".  Sure, I said and no sooner had I answered when out of his pack came a yellow frisbee. 

Lee knew I was a sucker for games and that frisbee popped up almost every year on the Friday set up day for the Nisqually class.  We played until one particularly cold year that frisbee just shattered into a bizillion pieces.

I will miss him.

Nadia

I have known Lee since 2003. He was the first person I met in the Washington Alpine Club when I took the Telemark Ski Class at Snoqualmie Pass. As my instructor, he left a great impression on me of patience, knowledge, humor, and a love for teaching. We had a few of our classes in the pouring rain, and his attitude and energy was the same those nights as it was on the nights with great snow and mild temperatures. His smile was infectious. It was obvious that he loved what he did and as a class we all were in awe of his skiing abilities. I still am.  I have since spent time with Lee skiing, hiking, and teaching along side of him through the WAC basic climbing class.  I wish I had more time with him and more stories to tell, but a few of my favorite memories of Lee are as follows.


One of the weekends that I remember the most was a weekend of camping on the Nisqually Glacier. We were preparing for training the basic class students about glacier travel. As I was setting up my tent in the dark, I mistakenly put one of my tent poles on the snow and it took off quickly down the glacier. KP and I looked for it for all of 10 minutes and gave up due to darkness and the effort, so we rigged my tent up with ski poles for the night. In the morning, as I was trying to motivate to get out of the tent and into the cold, I look out of my tent and see Lee carrying my tent stake as he skinned back up to camp. He had gotten up early (no surprise there), put on his skis, skied down about 1000ft of the Nisqually, wandered aimlessly left and right on a mission for the tent stake, somehow found it and made it back to camp. All of this happened before the rest of us even made it out of our tents. His energy was endless and appreciated.

A few years ago, I was part of a group, with Lee,  that went to the Rendevous hut for a 4 day New Years Eve trip.  Fred, Eileen and Lee had skied into the huts earlier in the day.  Candace, Leah and I drove over in the afternoon and were working our way to the hut in the evening.  The light was getting dark, our packs seemed a little heavy, and our skis were sticking to the snow.  Of course, we were not super prepared because we sent many of our ski supplies into the hut via snowmobile on the earlier shuttle.  So, Lee, who could have stayed with the multiple bottles of wine that decorated the cabin windowsills and watched the sunset, instead decided to come and check on us to see how our progress was.  He brought ski wax for our skis, laughter for our souls, food to fuel us along and provided company the remainder of the way to the cabin.  We were plenty safe to make it to the hut without him, but it was much more fun to ski the rest of the way with him.  The 'inner beaver' who couldn't sit still, and enjoyed the wine once everyone was home. He  always put other people first and loved sharing the joy of the outdoors with everyone.

He was the person that everyone trusted and respected.  I was no different, it was an honor to go on the few trips that I did with him... I wish that I had more opportunities.  Mostly I hope that he knew how much he was respected and how much people enjoyed his company.  His stories of taking care of others complemented the actions he took in caring for me.  He showed his skill, patience and leadership as he and our team helped me out of Logan Peak because of a bee sting reaction.  I will always remember his caring nature throughout that weekend.

I have learned so much from Lee and valued his opinion, his company, his friendship and his humor.  He was an inspiration to be with in the outdoors as well as inspirational to watch as he enjoyed the outdoors.  He will be missed by all the people he touched and influenced along his way.   I miss him.

-Kristin Kaupang

The last e-mail I got from Lee

In response to my e-mail "how was Lopez"?:


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Lopez was good.  Picked and ate a ton of Dungeness crab, biked quite a bit.  
 
Pinnacle is a nice long distance in!  Have fun!  When you gt back, maybe we can do something heroic!
 
Lee
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Jeez, Lee, it doesn't get much more heroic than that!   And I thought you meant something like Logan!


-Susan

My last trip with Lee

Oddly enough, I still have on my list of things to do "Write Trip Report for Horseshoe Peak", despite that we did it on June 26, so I guess I'll do that now.  Not exactly a useful-as-beta trip report, but a trip report nonetheless.

Horseshoe Peak is mostly a scramble with one 5th-class move over on Ripsaw Ridge near Sahale Peak/Cascade Pass, for those who don't know it.   In classic Adams style, we did the trip in a day, getting back to the trailhead just at dark, before we even needed to think about putting headlamps on.  It was one of those awesome trips that makes you eager to get out and do more like it.

I've found myself remembering a lot of moments from that trip over the last couple of days, so I wanted to write them down before I forget them.

On the drive up, Lee had mentioned that he really didn't know the flora or fauna after all these years in the backcountry.  I've tried to learn the names of the wildflowers I've seen, so as we headed up the trail I pointed out a few.

"Do you know what that one is?"

"Er, bunchberry?"

"No, that's trillium.  With three petals.  They turn purple as the flower starts to die.   And that one's a kind of violet."

"But it's yellow, not purple."

"Yeah.  Weird, I know."

"And that's hellibore," I continued as we motored up the trail.

"Hunh.  I have some in my backyard, but it looks different."

I was quite happy that I could finally teach Lee something!

As we proceeded up the switchbacks towards Cascade Pass, every time we hit a bit of snow, he'd look upslope to see if it would be a good place to get off the trail.

"What do you think?  Want to head straight up here?"

"Well, sure..."

He kicked steps for a while, until I offered to take over, and I started leading the way.

"Do you think we should maybe curve around to the left a bit to where it's a bit mellower?"

"Or we could keep going straight up this.  It's really not that steep," I countered.

"OK, sure, whatever you want to do," he said.

So I lead up what I thought was going to be a more direct route, over some rocks where the snow was melting out, which of course resulted in some postholing and Susan ending up in at least one tree well.

"I think I mentioned that maybe we could have gone over to the left a couple of times," he stated, ever the diplomat.

Of course, when I checked the map again, what I had thought was going to be more direct wasn't more direct at all.  It was just more difficult.

When I apologized for my mistake, his response was, "Hey, you've got to learn to lead the way now."  That meant a lot to me at the time and even more now.

After we passed by the Sahale glacier and were heading over into the Horseshoe Basin, we were scouting a way down into it.  It looked like we could go down a fairly mellow snow slope, scramble down a rock rib... or down a steep snow finger that Lee found.  From the top it looked quite steep.

While I snacked, he went halfway down the finger (and then back up).

"I think it will go.  How do you feel about it?  If you don't want to do it, we can certainly go around."

"Well, if you're leading it, I'm happy following..."

And thus we took another AA (Ashlock-Adams) direct route.

On the way back, we opted not to take that same snow finger.  We figured that the snow would have warmed up and been less safe, so we took another snow gulley up that was a bit shorter and less steep.  When we got to the rocks at the top, we had the option of scrambling up the rocks or traversing to the snow on the other side.  The wide snow slope was a bit less direct but mellow, but Lee's old boots were soaked through and he made a big pouty face when I suggested it.  So we scrambled up the class 3-4 rocks instead.  That pouty face (with lower lip stuck out) really cracked me up.

My compact camera had died, and the screen on his somehow crapped out that day, so we were taking pictures with his camera, blindly aiming without a viewfinder.  He didn't usually ask for pictures of himself, but he asked for one when we stopped to have dinner on the Sahale Arm on the way down.  Unfortunately because of the viewfinder situation, that meant that I ended up cutting his feet off in the last picture I took of him.

The views from that dinner spot were so stellar as the sun was starting to set.

When we got back to the trailhead, just before dark, we each had a beer.  We had each brought some along, and I remember that he liked the trippel I had brought.  And he was quite proud when I managed to finish it (although he probably helped a bit).

-Susan Ashlock

Dense Air (Sea Level) and Good company!

I've know  Lee for close to 15 years....off and on..... seasonably..... as we taught Telemark skiing
during the winter months and I'm at a loss as to the fact that Lee is gone......

 We never climbed together but we did rope up together once, a few years ago, when I had to free dive my sail boat  while we were on a cruise to Sucia Island in the San Juans.

I had driven over some polypropylene crab line and had about 20 feet wrapped around my propeller, so it was either cut it away ourselves or call for road service.
So.... since it was my boat it was decided that I do the mostly naked dive, and that Lee would belay me with a rope  girth hitched around my ankle in case I passed out from the 50 degree water.

Anyway..... once the fouled rope was dispatched and I was hauled aboard, we settled into a festive evening and I remember the conversation being ribald and ever so eclectic.

Lee is a prince...Past, present and future...... He graced my life with his presence, wit and charm.
I will truly miss the guy................

Pierre (Pete) Bustanoby
WAC class of 1979

A full and good life

I’m so sad to hear of Lee’s passing. I spent yesterday thinking of Lee and how he was enjoying his life, taking the adventures that make for a full and good life. It made me reflect on a statement heard a while ago “Life is not the amount of breaths you take, it's the moments that take your breath away.” Lee lived a good life and we can celebrate him by remembering the many moments that brought him joy. Take care of yourselves everyone! Please post any pictures if you've got them.


Sam Tran (ICOS Corp colleague)
PS. Susan, would it be ok to put the instructions on how to login and post on the front page? I'm thinking most people have not figured it out yet.

Getting the ball rolling...

Here are a few things I remember about Lee that I jotted down last night after I found out about the accident:

I always felt honored and lucky to climb with Lee.

He was always creative and had the knowledge and energy to solve any problem, from torn pants in the backcountry to routefinding to digging pits.

Like Murray said, you knew he would be able to get you out of any jam.

In a world where I feel like I can't trust very many people, I trusted Lee. He might not have always taken the optimal route, but he would always find something that worked.  He could fix anything, stay calm in any situation, and was strong as an ox and quick as a rabbit.

He was stubborn and honest and frank and a good human being. He never stopped learning or reading. 

He always, always, always had a great sense of humor, was enthusiastic about everything he did, and curious about how everything worked. He was such a goofy bastard. I can't look at a picture of him without laughing! While Murray is the great destructor, fan of trundling and burning, Lee was more of a constructor, building cairns, making solid camp sites in the snow, etc.,etc.  I remember him constructing the 'golden piton award' for Pat in honor of his Bulger List completion last year.

On our recent trip that was supposed to be Monument and Lake, we ended up doing Mt. Robinson instead. He could go through the bushwhacking sections twice as fast as I could. (And so could Murray!)  He cleared avalanche zones by throwing rocks and triggering wet slides. He was a master at that - his sense of snow was amazing.

Things I'll remember:
He'd always bring along a copy of the Seattle Times with him for the drive.
Doing the Jumble puzzle together.
Jack Mountain
Crater Mountain
He was so jealous of my Exped sleeping mat that I was tempted to buy one for him.
His sewing kit
His astonishment at the fact that I didn't drink.  He was always giving me shit about that and very proud when I did manage to finish a beer after we finished Horseshoe on our last trip together.  I was looking forward to telling him about how I hauled a bottle of riesling into camp last weekend and actually liked it.

I feel like I've told my non-climbing friends millions of stories about him, each time having to explain that he's Lee, my 52-year-old climbing partner who lives down the street. 

I loved climbing with him. He was funny, but never too talkative. I either called him lardass, Old Man Adams, or to really give him a hard time, 'dad'. I can't remember us ever disagreeing about anything... although we might have debated a route or two. Perhaps the reflection of the rear-view mirror isn't quite accurate, but I can't remember ever being annoyed with him. I always went on any trip with him with all potential unpleasantries fully disclosed and he always gave me the choice of opting out of anything I might not be comfortable with.

Jesus, he was a good skier.

He LOVED South Spectacle Butte and the larches there. And he LOVED the ice 'skating' on the way down from Greenwood

He survived Hard Mox, a rock that pinned his foot underwater while he was scrambling. It seemed like he could survive anything.

I'm trying to finish a Lagunitas IPA in his honor as I type this.  That's the beer the three of us shared after Silver Star in April.

I really looked up to him, perhaps more than anyone I know. It has taken me all these trips to realize that I'll never be half the climber or skier that Lee was. I learned a lot from him, just hearing about his career and other aspects of life. Maybe he was a little like a surrogate father.

I remember last summer while he was racking up summits like crazy something he said that surprised me at the time. He said that there's a lot more to life than climbing. And that really meant something to me, coming from an amazing climber who obviously felt so passionate about it.

Lee, I miss you already. 


-Susan Ashlock