RIP Lacy Meadows: July 24, 2010

It's been a hard few days.
I've been putting off writing anything here for the last few days as the thought of it has been way too much of an emotional leap. On Sunday, July 24, my friend and ski partner Lacy Meadows was found dead in the Indian Peaks Wilderness near Ogallala Peak after a fall. I found the news out as I was gathering gear up to head out the next day to go look for him. This is that phone call you never want to hear. It's the one you then never want to make as you need to spread the word to other friends who may not have heard yet.
Trying to come to terms with this over the last few days has been tricky. For one I've found myself being extremely sensitive and thin skinned. I've been easy to anger and one moment I'll be enjoying myself and laughing and the next moment I want to cry again. It's just so hard to believe that when the lifts start turning at Loveland this year he's not going to be there bombing down Spillway and Richard's Run over and over again with us.
Lacy was one hell of a skier. He loved to ski. I love to ski, but the way that Lacy loved to ski blew everyone I know out of the water. He loved a long hike, with a steep technical descent. He was known as the powder prophet, because he could always find the good snow on a bad snow day. Or as he would say, on a less better ski day because there are no bad ski days. He had this grin that I think I'll remember for the rest of my life. It was infectious, when you saw it in full bloom you got stoked. His passion and enthusiasm came radiating out everytime that grin showed up. And you better believe that no matter what he was skiing, he was grinning.
I skied one of my first spring couliours ever with Lacy. It was the first day I met him actually. It ended up being one of my favorite ski days of all time. Starlight coulior, James Peak, James Peak Wilderness. I remember being so scared looking into the coulior and it seriously taking me a moment before I could sack up to link some turns and when I paused to breathe, I looked up and there is hungover, barely having slept Lacy, ripping beautifully linked tele turns down the slope and smiling to beat the band. I'll always remember that day.

Lacy, wherever you are, I want you to know that your passion and love was inspiring to me. The way that you skied was an absolute beauty to watch and every time I saw you link a turn I wanted to be able to ski like that. I hope one day I'm even close to being as good as you. I'll miss you friendship and hanging out with you at the Plume or anywhere else and I'll miss your incredible lust for life. All of your friends down here are feeling as though something was ripped away from us, and I think it's knowing that your larger than life presence is no longer going to come busting in the door. I also hope that you've found peace, beauty and deep bottomless powder on the steep endless lines of heaven. I feel like you were taken from us too soon and that I should have had years more to ski with you (I know! I should have skied more big descents this spring!), but that when I think of the way you went and that the last thing you probably saw was a vista of the cragged Indian Peaks that I know you loved, I know that it filled you with peace and that gives me some comfort. I also know that every time I have an amazing ski day, I'll think of you and I know you'll have been with me carving up every turn.
Vaya con dios, my friend and wait for us at the top.