I count myself lucky to have once shared with Lara a three hour, donut-and-coffee fueled dash from Tacoma to a class field trip site southeast of Mount Saint Helens. Neither of us wanted to go down the night before with the rest of the class, and we were new graduate students in the same UW lab, so we shot down the freeway the next morning, late. And somewhere around the Nisqually bridge, it became evident that Lara had an answer to the single biggest ogre I was wrestling at the time, which was an answer to the question, “How does someone who thrives on approval function in the absence of clear expectation?” The answer, in a nutshell: Don’t bother with expectation and approval. Get busy moving out from under that kind of limitation.
I am not particularly a climber of ice and rock. Instead, I walk lots of miles in search of wild places that, through accidents of biogeography and geomorphology, clearly see climate. It is our strange profession to turn elegant, complete processes found in nature into estimates and their surrounding uncertainty. Lara knew that this is all too often how science works. She also knew that the true purpose is to go the other way: to go beyond our hair-raisingly clunky numbers and uncertainties and get at those elegant processes that underlie what we observe and so ineffectively measure. A power law is a mathematical version of the same idea, and it is beautiful. At that point, we were reinforcing each other’s perspectives: grappling with trying to write better and embracing the search for elegance in a field that is prone to studying noisiness – and too often, giving up. Get busy moving out from under that kind of limitation.
And then there was Lara with advice on adolescent cattledogs. We adopted a 6 month old cattledog / German shepherd cross (big ears, big curiosity, big endurance, big voice, profound need to herd, in 55 lbs of spotted and crafty soul) and within weeks I was at wits end, with a list a yard long of “What Would Jasper Chew.” Lara told me about “Greedy-proofing” during the kitchen remodel, and I learned another lesson, this one in a nearly meditative patience that she seemed so good at. What did it matter if my dog ate everything in sight? He’s a dog. Jasper-proof what little matters, and get busy moving out from under that kind of limitation.
So, now the cheerful, patient teacher who showed me how to unclip from my imagined obligations, who was my power law compadre, and who rescued me from my rescue dog, cannot offer advice and consolation when I run aground, and like so many others, I am bereft. But chances are, I should get busy moving out from under that kind of limitation. The iterations of this are as obvious as they are endless: Find another line, find another tool, sharpen the focus. If it doesn’t exist, invent it. If it’s in your way, go over, around, or through it.
Lacking the ability to describe the unlimited and infinite ideal, I looked around for the truest characterization of it I could find (apologies to those with two X chromosomes; we all know it’s universal):
“The self-confidence of the warrior is not the self-confidence of the average man. The average man seeks certainty in the eyes of the onlooker and calls that self-confidence. The warrior seeks impeccability in his own eyes and calls that humbleness. The average man is hooked to his fellow men, while the warrior is hooked only to infinity.”
-Don Juan Matus, Tales of Power, Castaneda
Lara, you will be missed. I thank you for your generous friendship, your example, and your kind and patient insistence that I get busy moving…..
Jeremy Littell, Seattle, WA
Thursday, May 3, 2007
She Wore Great Shoes
I didn’t work extensively with Lara. I never dated her or had beers with her over the years. I never climbed with her or ever rode a bike with her. For that matter, I haven’t seen or said hello to her for 11 years. I did know some of the people in her social network and still stay in touch with a handful of them who talked fondly of her from time to time. Being an alumnus of Feathered Friends and Mount Rainer National Park, I felt more compelled to write and say something in Lara’s memory than to say nothing.
I wish I could remember the exact year, I think 1996. I was a back-country ranger in the Carbon River corner of Mount Rainier NP and Lara was a climbing ranger, Schurman or Muir I remember not. We were both in a week-long advance rope rescue class in Longmire taught by Mike Gauthier; part of our spring training for the park.
It was the first time I had seen or met Lara and she was a stand out in the 20-something crowd that made up the class. Not so much by her can do attitude, or her blond hair, or the skirt she wore, or her quick wit – all of which did contribute though. For me it was her shoes. Everyone in the class wore a pair of stout trail boots or the latest mountaineering boots, but Lara wore city shoes...hip city shoes.
They were great shoes, a cross between Dansko’s, Mary-Jane’s, and Doc Martin’s. She wore them in the classroom and in the field. She even wore them when it was raining and we were prusiking up a rope that hung off the edge of the Nisqually Bridge in Longmire. I kept thinking, why is she wearing those HERE. The shoes seemed out of place, but the thing was, she pulled it off with a flair that I think only Lara could have done.
At the end of the class, there was a party in Longmire and everyone from the class was in attendance. I complemented her on her choice of footwear for the week and we had a laugh. We parted for the evening and for the week with the thought of ‘see you in the park sometime this summer’. I don’t think I ever saw her again.
That memoir of Lara and her wearing those great shoes - and not being held back by them - has been with me all these years and will for many more now. You were an extraordinary woman and a class act Lara.
My heart and sympathy goes to Chad for the loss of his partner in both life and on the mountain; to the Kellogg family for a loss of a loved daughter-in-law; to the Bitenieks family for the loss of the sum of all your parts; and to all of Lara’s friends and colleges who she touched so dearly and so deeply.
Sincerely,
Lance D. Jorg
Richfield Helitack - Fishlake National Forest
Richfield, UT
I wish I could remember the exact year, I think 1996. I was a back-country ranger in the Carbon River corner of Mount Rainier NP and Lara was a climbing ranger, Schurman or Muir I remember not. We were both in a week-long advance rope rescue class in Longmire taught by Mike Gauthier; part of our spring training for the park.
It was the first time I had seen or met Lara and she was a stand out in the 20-something crowd that made up the class. Not so much by her can do attitude, or her blond hair, or the skirt she wore, or her quick wit – all of which did contribute though. For me it was her shoes. Everyone in the class wore a pair of stout trail boots or the latest mountaineering boots, but Lara wore city shoes...hip city shoes.
They were great shoes, a cross between Dansko’s, Mary-Jane’s, and Doc Martin’s. She wore them in the classroom and in the field. She even wore them when it was raining and we were prusiking up a rope that hung off the edge of the Nisqually Bridge in Longmire. I kept thinking, why is she wearing those HERE. The shoes seemed out of place, but the thing was, she pulled it off with a flair that I think only Lara could have done.
At the end of the class, there was a party in Longmire and everyone from the class was in attendance. I complemented her on her choice of footwear for the week and we had a laugh. We parted for the evening and for the week with the thought of ‘see you in the park sometime this summer’. I don’t think I ever saw her again.
That memoir of Lara and her wearing those great shoes - and not being held back by them - has been with me all these years and will for many more now. You were an extraordinary woman and a class act Lara.
My heart and sympathy goes to Chad for the loss of his partner in both life and on the mountain; to the Kellogg family for a loss of a loved daughter-in-law; to the Bitenieks family for the loss of the sum of all your parts; and to all of Lara’s friends and colleges who she touched so dearly and so deeply.
Sincerely,
Lance D. Jorg
Richfield Helitack - Fishlake National Forest
Richfield, UT
Memories from 13th Ave and the Pussycat Ale
I had the good fortune to live with Lara, Steve Hyde, and Steve DeWitte for a couple of years in a house on 13th and Pine in Seattle in the mid 90s.
Lara had boundless energy and a love for all things outdoors that inspired our neighbors to nickname our household “the action hippies.” Of course she was the leader. She had an excellent sense of humor, and put simply was very passionate about everything that she did, period.
One of the funniest stories I remember about those times was Lara constantly bemoaning the fact that all the boys brewed batches of beer and why couldn’t she. So she did. She brewed a batch of Pale Ale that was unveiled at a party one Friday night. Our landlord’s 20-something nephews somehow ended up at the party and they were bona fide beer geeks, speaking of nothing but beer and brewing the entire time. Well, Lara’s beer ended up having a distinct lemon flavor despite having no citrus or lemon added whatsoever. I would call it contaminated but it was really good. The beer geeks kept bugging her on how she made such a delicious beer and she kept saying with a devilish grin and a twinkle in her eye, “sorry guys, secret recipe.”
Lara will be greatly missed.
She was the driving force behind many mid-week overnight camping trips where we would truck out somewhere on the I-90 corridor, hike in, spend the night, wake up, and head straight to work the next morning.
She was at the center of many a gear explosion where the entire first floor of the house would be covered with various, coats, pants, lights, stoves, climbing gear, bicycles, packs, kayaks, cameras, photos, sunscreen, tents, tarps, bivy saks, socks, dogs . . . as she looked for that one missing piece.
She had a penchant for picking up puppies and giving them as gifts to people who really weren’t looking to adopt a dog, but never said no.
She could do the best impression of an older Latvian woman or Latvian man in the world.
She was the best correspondent. Every Christmas she would break out her address book and actually hand write letters, many letters.
She had a passion for life, and lived it to the fullest. I am honored to have known her.
Doug Oh-Keith
Portland, Oregon
Lara had boundless energy and a love for all things outdoors that inspired our neighbors to nickname our household “the action hippies.” Of course she was the leader. She had an excellent sense of humor, and put simply was very passionate about everything that she did, period.
One of the funniest stories I remember about those times was Lara constantly bemoaning the fact that all the boys brewed batches of beer and why couldn’t she. So she did. She brewed a batch of Pale Ale that was unveiled at a party one Friday night. Our landlord’s 20-something nephews somehow ended up at the party and they were bona fide beer geeks, speaking of nothing but beer and brewing the entire time. Well, Lara’s beer ended up having a distinct lemon flavor despite having no citrus or lemon added whatsoever. I would call it contaminated but it was really good. The beer geeks kept bugging her on how she made such a delicious beer and she kept saying with a devilish grin and a twinkle in her eye, “sorry guys, secret recipe.”
Lara will be greatly missed.
She was the driving force behind many mid-week overnight camping trips where we would truck out somewhere on the I-90 corridor, hike in, spend the night, wake up, and head straight to work the next morning.
She was at the center of many a gear explosion where the entire first floor of the house would be covered with various, coats, pants, lights, stoves, climbing gear, bicycles, packs, kayaks, cameras, photos, sunscreen, tents, tarps, bivy saks, socks, dogs . . . as she looked for that one missing piece.
She had a penchant for picking up puppies and giving them as gifts to people who really weren’t looking to adopt a dog, but never said no.
She could do the best impression of an older Latvian woman or Latvian man in the world.
She was the best correspondent. Every Christmas she would break out her address book and actually hand write letters, many letters.
She had a passion for life, and lived it to the fullest. I am honored to have known her.
Doug Oh-Keith
Portland, Oregon
Last Sunday afternoon (4/29) I found myself with what has become of late an exceedingly rare bit of free time. My two young sons were napping as was my wife AnaLee who is 5 months along with our daughter due in August. A rare opportunity to sit in the stillness of the dining room and read the Sunday Times, a seemingly simple thing that I can manage to squeak in about twice a month. I always read the main stories after which I invariably head for the Sports section, but not this time. This time I did something I never do, EVER. Inexplicably I lightly browsed the obituaries, not looking for anyone or anything, just musing over the photos of two local young soldiers tragically killed in Iraq and anonomously feeling for their loved ones. I breezed over names and occasional photos thinking abstractly about their lives and sympathizing with their families and friends. There's city councilman Charlie Chang (Chong? I forget) the pot-hole fixer, and then I froze as my eyes met the grainy photograph of someone I knew. A friend that I loved. It must be a mistake but there's the name under the picture, Lara Karena... I don't know how long I sat motionless on that quiet afternoon staring at that photo, time seemed to stand still. In a sort of stunned shock I wandered downstairs and got on the computer, googled "lara karena kellogg" and sat for an hour reading about the accident and about her exploits of the last decade. I wandered outside and stared at my cell phone until I willed myself to remember a phone number I hadn't dialed in 17 years...long forgotten it just jumped back into my head. I dialed it and heard the voice of Lara's mother Guna on the other end. I could tell from the way she said "hello" that it was real, and that was the moment the horrible truth sunk in. In the days since I've had thoughts of Lara and memories from long ago in my head constantly. At work, at home, in bed trying to sleep but just thinking, thinking, thinking. I'd only seen and/or been in contact with Lara a handful of times since 1990 for no other reason than we had grown into two busy people with different interests and goals but not for any waning of friendly affection for one another. I checked on Lara's exploits and accomplishments from time to time via "google" and knew sooner or later I would elbow-in to her busy life for a moment here and there to catch up and share stories. Even though I hadn't spoken to her in over 8 years I was content just knowing she was out there kicking-ass and doing her Lara thing. I knew we'd cross paths sometime. Now it's sinking in that we won't be able to do that. I'm angry at myself for letting so much time pass. Lara didn't know that I finally found my soul-mate (after many notoriously poor romantic choices that made Lara roll her eyes), she doesn't know I have a family of my own now. She would have been pleased to know that I landed on my feet after some self-induced hard times. I feel guilty that I didn't act sooner so my wife AnaLee could have had the pleasure of meeting this wonderful person. I'm amazed at the constant stream of old memories popping into my head, some not thought about for over 20 years. Some are humorous or dramatic events but many are seemingly insignificant little moments that one wouldn't expect to remember so long after the fact, a glance, a walk in the woods, stopping for french fries on the way to Cannon Beach...why would I remember that?
Thank you Tim for setting up this blog. I've read the whole thing several times and left a few myself and it's helping me cope with this crushing grief that I'm feeling. I hope nobody minds me piping in here and there as memories and thoughts about Lara come back to me, for it's really been good therapy for me. I'm heartened to see what wonderful people Lara surrounded herself with these last 20 years, though I would expect nothing less.
Mark Fluegel
fenderdog@aol.com
Thank you Tim for setting up this blog. I've read the whole thing several times and left a few myself and it's helping me cope with this crushing grief that I'm feeling. I hope nobody minds me piping in here and there as memories and thoughts about Lara come back to me, for it's really been good therapy for me. I'm heartened to see what wonderful people Lara surrounded herself with these last 20 years, though I would expect nothing less.
Mark Fluegel
fenderdog@aol.com
Peanut Butter Jelly Time
Colin Haley was over yesterday to scan images and, being the early-twenties college student that he is, he knows about Peanut Butter Jelly Time. I didn't until one morning when I dropped by Lara's Freemont office and she just *had* to show me this thing about a dancing banana. So she did.
As I sort of stared, mouth agape, at what I thought was an inane and poorly done animation, Lara burst out laughing. Doubled over laughing. Then she started singing along and dancing the dance herself, right there in the office.
Yesterday Colin and I found the file on the web and had ourselves a good laugh. If you haven't seen it, I hope you enjoy it. It's silly. And I still think it's inane. But it reminds me of Lara, dancing, laughing and lifting my spirits. It gave me one more memory of her, one I just had to share.
Tim Matsui
See:The Original Flash File
As I sort of stared, mouth agape, at what I thought was an inane and poorly done animation, Lara burst out laughing. Doubled over laughing. Then she started singing along and dancing the dance herself, right there in the office.
Yesterday Colin and I found the file on the web and had ourselves a good laugh. If you haven't seen it, I hope you enjoy it. It's silly. And I still think it's inane. But it reminds me of Lara, dancing, laughing and lifting my spirits. It gave me one more memory of her, one I just had to share.
Tim Matsui
See:The Original Flash File
From B. Bruce Bare, Dean and Professor, University of Washington
(Editor's Note: The original email announcement was sent to Lara's professional colleagues. Republished with author's permission.)
Colleagues
It is with great sadness that we report the death of Lara Karena Kellogg on Monday, April 23, 2007. Lara was a consummate athlete and mountain guide, a passion that took her to climb the highest peaks of the world. The tragic accident that took her life occurred while she was on vacation climbing Mt. Wake in Denali National Park and Preserve in Alaska. She died from injuries sustained in a 1,000-foot fall that occurred while rappelling the technical Northeast Ridge.
In her professional life Lara was a promising young scientist working on fire research projects in collaboration with the Fire and Environmental Research Team (FERA) of the US Forest Service PNW Research Station, located in Fremont. Lara received excellence awards for her work from the USFS, NASA, EPA and the Joint Fire Sciences Program.
Lara first came to the College of Forest Resources in 2000 as an undergraduate student research assistant in GIS and remote sensing in forest fires under the supervision of Ernesto Alvarado. Upon her graduation from the UW Department of Geography in 2001, Lara continued working at CFR as a classified staff member supporting cooperative projects in forest fires between the college and the USFS Pacific Wildland Fire Sciences Laboratory (PWFSL). She entered the CFR graduate program in Forest Ecosystems Analysis under the direction of Don McKenzie and Dave Peterson and graduated with a Master of Science degree in 2004 with her thesis on Quantifying the Spatial Variability Associated with Historical Low-Severity Fire Regimes in Eastern Washington, USA. Upon finishing her graduate degree, Lara continued at the college as a professional staff research scientist with the same forest fire research group.
Her death is a great loss to our community. She is survived by family members, including her husband Chad. Our condolences to her colleagues, friends, and family.
--------------
B. Bruce Bare
Dean and Professor
Colleagues
It is with great sadness that we report the death of Lara Karena Kellogg on Monday, April 23, 2007. Lara was a consummate athlete and mountain guide, a passion that took her to climb the highest peaks of the world. The tragic accident that took her life occurred while she was on vacation climbing Mt. Wake in Denali National Park and Preserve in Alaska. She died from injuries sustained in a 1,000-foot fall that occurred while rappelling the technical Northeast Ridge.
In her professional life Lara was a promising young scientist working on fire research projects in collaboration with the Fire and Environmental Research Team (FERA) of the US Forest Service PNW Research Station, located in Fremont. Lara received excellence awards for her work from the USFS, NASA, EPA and the Joint Fire Sciences Program.
Lara first came to the College of Forest Resources in 2000 as an undergraduate student research assistant in GIS and remote sensing in forest fires under the supervision of Ernesto Alvarado. Upon her graduation from the UW Department of Geography in 2001, Lara continued working at CFR as a classified staff member supporting cooperative projects in forest fires between the college and the USFS Pacific Wildland Fire Sciences Laboratory (PWFSL). She entered the CFR graduate program in Forest Ecosystems Analysis under the direction of Don McKenzie and Dave Peterson and graduated with a Master of Science degree in 2004 with her thesis on Quantifying the Spatial Variability Associated with Historical Low-Severity Fire Regimes in Eastern Washington, USA. Upon finishing her graduate degree, Lara continued at the college as a professional staff research scientist with the same forest fire research group.
Her death is a great loss to our community. She is survived by family members, including her husband Chad. Our condolences to her colleagues, friends, and family.
--------------
B. Bruce Bare
Dean and Professor
Thank You for Every Nontrivial Moment
I worked with Lara in the fire lab and we were work buddies – friends but not close friends, members of the same work family. The thing with Lara was, that once you’ve dispensed with the bullshit, as she did, all interactions are distilled, concentrated, nontrivial. She didn’t waste time with niceties for niceties sake and she said what she felt, free of any codependent need to be liked. Consequently, you knew where you stood with Lara, which was quite a gift. Any time spent with Lara meant more, because it was tacit that she wouldn’t be there if she didn’t want to be.
A story: She once enlisted my help with a bugbear of an online mapping application she’d inherited. The code was someone else’s and we poked around and tweaked settings to try to get it up and running on the server Lara had set up at UW. Frustrated, we took a break with plans to come back to it later rather than throw the computer out the window. Leaving a problem unresolved was RIGHT OUT in Lara’s book, and putting it aside wasn’t a very palatable option for her. The next day she came bounding over to me with news that the app was working, crediting me with the accomplishment, which was completely unfounded, but so Lara. “No, no – it was all you – really!” Generous, humble, infectiously upbeat, Lara.
While I despair for the time I took for granted that I’d have to become closer with her – this is a big part of why I am so devastated by her loss – I’m forever grateful for the moments I got to spend in her presence, each of which left me marveling over how effortlessly she embodied the traits to which I’ve always aspired. I’d like to say that I learned from her, but that kind of self-possession you can’t learn – you’ve either got it or you don’t and she had it in spades. Thank you for every nontrivial moment Lara, you live on in my heart.
Paige Eagle, Seattle, WA
A story: She once enlisted my help with a bugbear of an online mapping application she’d inherited. The code was someone else’s and we poked around and tweaked settings to try to get it up and running on the server Lara had set up at UW. Frustrated, we took a break with plans to come back to it later rather than throw the computer out the window. Leaving a problem unresolved was RIGHT OUT in Lara’s book, and putting it aside wasn’t a very palatable option for her. The next day she came bounding over to me with news that the app was working, crediting me with the accomplishment, which was completely unfounded, but so Lara. “No, no – it was all you – really!” Generous, humble, infectiously upbeat, Lara.
While I despair for the time I took for granted that I’d have to become closer with her – this is a big part of why I am so devastated by her loss – I’m forever grateful for the moments I got to spend in her presence, each of which left me marveling over how effortlessly she embodied the traits to which I’ve always aspired. I’d like to say that I learned from her, but that kind of self-possession you can’t learn – you’ve either got it or you don’t and she had it in spades. Thank you for every nontrivial moment Lara, you live on in my heart.
Paige Eagle, Seattle, WA
