I am shocked!
. . . and I am devastated. I consider Tom one of my greatest friends, and had a great dinner with him last Spring up in Durango. He isn’t that far up the road from me. Never short on generosity and warmth, you could always tell when he entered a room; between his booming voice, commanding presence, and the fact the temperature dropped in the room because he was the coolest guy to be around. I’d had several trips with Tom. The first was the big ol’ Green River Trip in 2011 where several of us floated down the Green River to Canyonlands NP, and almost died in a thunderstorm. SmartAleq, KidVermicious, and a few others all had an adventure-filled trip with fantastic memories of lunch on the river, and ice cream at the pull-out.
The second trip with him was to Chaco NP, where he guided me through all of the ruins, and we spent a laughter-filled couple of nights around a campfire, at a strategic spot in the campgrounds that when sunset hit, washed the entire gulch in beautiful red hues and his hearty laughter. The man knows his Earth. The third was down the Colorado just outside of Moab where we took out the boats for a “early-season test drive,” and when camping that night, came across this gigantic “hippie rave” on the far side of the river (inside NP boundaries) with a sound stage, music, and about 150 young kids taking a break from college. Tom’s buoyant, extroverted nature fit him right in with everyone there. Later that same trip, we went to see some tucked-away petroglyphs that few knew about just off of I-70.
The man is a true National Treasure, historian, conservationist, and naturalist. He had stories about Native American sites that very few knew about, including a sandal left on a mesa for 1,500 years that he admitted, “Trip, I’ll take you there . . . because you appreciate things and are not an asshole.” As a former Infantryman in the Nebraska National Guard, the stories he’d tell of trips and adventures could keep you enthralled for hours around those campfires, and they may or may not have included some nefarious activities at collegiate football games. [sub]Brother, the statute of limitations is up . . .[/sub] The man is more than a guide, he’s a walking encylopedia of terrain, legends, stories, and artifacts.
I had the privilege to have dinner with him up in Durango last year over enchiladas and margaritas. There is no exagerating when I tell you that his voice and roaring belly laugh had other patrons of the restaurant continually glaring at us–but to hell with them! If they only knew the man they were dealing with, they’d be pulling up chairs around our table to hear his tales.
I don’t consider him “gone,” but just down the river past the bend a little bit. In due time, we’ll all float down to see him beached on a sandbar with Chaco and Kiva scampering around, just waiting for us to catch up. I am honored to have been a companion on a few of his adventures. I owe the man my life, not because he saved it, but because he enriched it that much.
Tripler
May your rivers be long and winding, my friend. I’ll see you downstream.
