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| Denny climbing Fossil Falls, North Rim of the Grand Canyon |
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Denny and I met in the 4th grade at St. Rose of Lima. We started our friendship making money on marriages as altar boys. Jay Hollister, an ex marine who fought in the South Pacific, took care of our physical training in sports while the Benedictine Sisters did their best to curtail our bad behavior with ruler discipline and public humiliation. Most of the time it didn't work.
Denny is front row second from right. He was the math genius in elementary school, but had only marginal interest in the other subjects. He saved all his money from his paper route to build up a hot rod for high school. It was a beautiful 34 Ford with a big engine his father helped him rebuild. He went to Chula Vista High while I went to Hilltop. We both continued on to San Diego State and managed to survive motorcycles and free fraternity beer. He sold his motorcycle to get a big ring for Margaret, the love of his life, toward the end of his stay at SDSU.
In the coming years Denny became the stand up guy that you all know and love. We had many family adventures in Baja and were partners in a cabin south of Rosarito. He loved the ocean and enjoyed fixing up the cabin with a flush toilet and drywall, whereas I mostly just enjoyed surfing. Denny and I have always been quite different, but he didn't need others to be like him. Most people try to make themselves and their choices "right", but Denny didn't have that gene.
Denny started his own software company, which involved data collection and analysis on tactical systems. While he was doing this work, he continued to develop a string of rental houses and made upgrades to most of them. At one point I was between jobs and worked for him. No one could match his energy and productivity. Most tenants loved him because he gave good service and frequently counseled them on how to get their own place.
His physical exploits are legendary. In college, he benched over 240 lbs while weighing around 120. He had a string of 30 consecutive half marathons and after 60 did a few marathons. We did a few mini-triathlons together. He had the balance of a cat and no apparent fear of heights. When he mountain biked with our weekly group, he kept up well without being there often. This usually involved at least one fall, but he never seemed to get hurt. I saw him do things in Sedona that showed a complete disregard for a bad outcome. Kind of the opposite to the way I ride.
We took Denny backpacking to Big Pine Lakes, North Fork drainage about 20 years ago. On the first trip he found our favorite spot. It is nestled on the top of boulders, looking across 2nd Lake to Temple Craig. Denny quickly learned how to fish that lake and displayed his cooking acumen with the fresh trout. His sons Patrick and Michael, daughter Jennifer and our daughter Allie accompanied us on many of those adventures. During the last few years, most of the time it was just Kathy, Denny and I when we made our yearly pilgrimage to the eastern High Sierra.
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| Denny and Jennifer, looking back toward 2nd Lake |
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| Second Lake, looking at Temple Craig |
Here's where the "Where's Denny" starts to rear it's ugly head. There had been a few precursors on mountain bike rides, but I chose to ignore the warning signs. Denny was so focused that he could lose the group in minutes. From that point on, Dan volunteered as sweeper and he kept Denny in sight.
We began to do point to point backpacks (moving each day) with Denny and discovered some interesting things. He could rebuild an Aston Martin using 5 gallon pails to pile the parts. He said "It's kind of obvious how it goes together" (!). However, packing a backpack could be almost a perpetual motion exercise. Time for a break? Oh no, he's dismantling his pack again! I used deep breathing and other techniques to keep my compulsive nature in check.
His disappearances on the trail took epic proportions. The great part of it this year was that it got to the level of a joke between us.
Three months ago, we were going to repeat our 5 day Piute Pass to Bishop Pass loop of a few years ago. We left the North Lake car campground early. At Piute Pass, Denny told us to go ahead and he would catch up. Unfortunately, the Rough Fire had carpeted the entire southern Sierra. The closer we got to the John Muir Trail, the worse the smoke. Kathy and I retreated back up the canyon to a flat camp place.
We were worried about Denny, because he was two hours getting to the camp. "Where's Denny" became our mantra. There was palpable relief when he came down the trail. He had gotten on a side trail while coming down, but was in good spirits and completely comfortable. Denny wanted to go on. There is no quit in this guy. I was conflicted because Kathy was coughing so badly that she was not able to continue. We were elated when Denny decided to go back with us rather than continuing on by himself.
The next morning Kathy and I were packed. After about a half hour, Denny told us to go on ahead and that he would catch up. By midday we were over the pass at Piute Lake and began to nap on some boulders while waiting for Denny. After the second hour of waiting, we began to question the few hikers that came by to see if they had seen Denny. Of course the mantra began anew. When he got to us an hour later, Denny was in great spirits. Time for him was just a four letter word.
When we got back to our favorite car campsite at North Lake, I started a fire. We bought some wine and had one of the best campfire conversations of my life. Cells of weather brought light rain, but it didn't matter. We were upbeat after having done 30 miles and Piute Pass twice in two days. Denny said that he and I were so lucky to be able to do these trips and that we would continue to do them together until our 90's.
Whether it was a five cities ride, a snow climb of San Jacinto, a cross country ski up San Gorgonio or just a hike up Iron Mountain, Denny was my go to guy. Whenever you went anywhere with him, his ordinary transactions were characterized by a kindness toward others and a complete occupation of the present moment. All of the people who worked for him knew this. One of the things he did last year was to look up an old employee, who had been deported to Mexico. He was living in Rosarito and had virtually no teeth. Denny picked up the tab for him to get them fixed. Who does this kind of thing?
For as many seasons as I have left in the Sierra, I know part of my experience will be the eternal quiet that soothes me. But every trip, from this year forward, will have that feeling at least once when I look back trail and repeat the mantra "Where's Denny?"
We began to do point to point backpacks (moving each day) with Denny and discovered some interesting things. He could rebuild an Aston Martin using 5 gallon pails to pile the parts. He said "It's kind of obvious how it goes together" (!). However, packing a backpack could be almost a perpetual motion exercise. Time for a break? Oh no, he's dismantling his pack again! I used deep breathing and other techniques to keep my compulsive nature in check.
His disappearances on the trail took epic proportions. The great part of it this year was that it got to the level of a joke between us.
Three months ago, we were going to repeat our 5 day Piute Pass to Bishop Pass loop of a few years ago. We left the North Lake car campground early. At Piute Pass, Denny told us to go ahead and he would catch up. Unfortunately, the Rough Fire had carpeted the entire southern Sierra. The closer we got to the John Muir Trail, the worse the smoke. Kathy and I retreated back up the canyon to a flat camp place.
We were worried about Denny, because he was two hours getting to the camp. "Where's Denny" became our mantra. There was palpable relief when he came down the trail. He had gotten on a side trail while coming down, but was in good spirits and completely comfortable. Denny wanted to go on. There is no quit in this guy. I was conflicted because Kathy was coughing so badly that she was not able to continue. We were elated when Denny decided to go back with us rather than continuing on by himself.
The next morning Kathy and I were packed. After about a half hour, Denny told us to go on ahead and that he would catch up. By midday we were over the pass at Piute Lake and began to nap on some boulders while waiting for Denny. After the second hour of waiting, we began to question the few hikers that came by to see if they had seen Denny. Of course the mantra began anew. When he got to us an hour later, Denny was in great spirits. Time for him was just a four letter word.
When we got back to our favorite car campsite at North Lake, I started a fire. We bought some wine and had one of the best campfire conversations of my life. Cells of weather brought light rain, but it didn't matter. We were upbeat after having done 30 miles and Piute Pass twice in two days. Denny said that he and I were so lucky to be able to do these trips and that we would continue to do them together until our 90's.
Whether it was a five cities ride, a snow climb of San Jacinto, a cross country ski up San Gorgonio or just a hike up Iron Mountain, Denny was my go to guy. Whenever you went anywhere with him, his ordinary transactions were characterized by a kindness toward others and a complete occupation of the present moment. All of the people who worked for him knew this. One of the things he did last year was to look up an old employee, who had been deported to Mexico. He was living in Rosarito and had virtually no teeth. Denny picked up the tab for him to get them fixed. Who does this kind of thing?
For as many seasons as I have left in the Sierra, I know part of my experience will be the eternal quiet that soothes me. But every trip, from this year forward, will have that feeling at least once when I look back trail and repeat the mantra "Where's Denny?"
Nice to hear stories about Denny like this.
ReplyDeleteLast year as I did Mt.Whitney summit climb and on the way back down a terrible storm and high winds hit. Well I kinda dead headed after the summit climb to the car. When I got home I proudly told him of the very high winds and freak storm. He told me that he was to climb it IN THAT STORM but for whatever reason he climbed Whitneys twin sister Mt.and got snowed on yet if I recall he continued to summit.
I lost my bragging rights and heck he's like 7 years my older Not sure of the name of that Mt.but I plan to summit that one in the future.
P.S. I'm one of his beach volleyball buddies.
Nice to hear stories about Denny like this.
ReplyDeleteLast year as I did Mt.Whitney summit climb and on the way back down a terrible storm and high winds hit. Well I kinda dead headed after the summit climb to the car. When I got home I proudly told him of the very high winds and freak storm. He told me that he was to climb it IN THAT STORM but for whatever reason he climbed Whitneys twin sister Mt.and got snowed on yet if I recall he continued to summit.
I lost my bragging rights and heck he's like 7 years my older Not sure of the name of that Mt.but I plan to summit that one in the future.
P.S. I'm one of his beach volleyball buddies.
Very well written John. Denny and I shared so many hobbies. Every time I start to do something I am reminded of a time when Denny and I did something similar together. I used to bump into Denny almost every time I went into Home Depot, it is not the same now when I pull up and don't see his truck there.
ReplyDeleteRandy
Thanks Randy. He still is with us in out hearts, but it's not the same.
Delete