Its impossibly hard for me to write about Lara, in the past, for to do so demands I accept that she is gone … and I’m not there yet. I don’t ever want to get there. She was just so damn amazing. Reading everyone’s inspired words brings me to tears, then laughter and always more tears. Please keep writing.
Throughout this past week, I endlessly hear her sassy wit, her tenacious brilliance and her generous warm voice. My mind wanders and there she is, smiling and laughing and dancing up some rock face. I miss her tremendously and love her like a sister, a big sister, for she was always there for me … unconditionally. Lara was always giving me incredible advice even when I had made some stupid mistake, ever believing in me to do something far greater than what I thought possible, ever inspiring me to run or climb or adventure harder and longer than I had ever done, and ultimately, ever giving me countless reasons to look up to her. My life was richer because I knew Lara and I loved meeting up with her as soon as I came home, to hear what she was up to and to process. Perhaps what I will miss the most is our reunions when we would finally get to go to the hills, head out on a run, enjoy a cup of coffee and always, have that long talk. Looking back, I can mark every notable event in my life in this way … processing with Lara.
There are a million moments with Lara I savor. I still remember the first night I met Lara and how shortly thereafter, in Yosemite, she taught me how to sneak a ‘free shower’ and loaned me her ‘girl kit’. This was an epiphany for me – that you could climb hard with the boys (her better than most) and still shine as a sexy, feminine, and compassionate woman. In this Lara was the master. She tried endlessly to mentor me in this – though I was never a good student. Once, after a fantastic and at times hilarious trip guiding together (imagine for a moment the classic bumbly client and lara chain-smoking nightly to calm her nerves), she confiscated our tips and took me to a proper salon downtown Seattle to ‘do something about my hair’. Many of my clothes are still Lara hand me downs, which I proudly wear in spite of the holes that would drive her crazy.
While climbing in the Himalaya many years ago, Lara and I spent days climbing a beautiful mountain together fantasizing about chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. You see, there had been a bakery in Namche on the way in, but we had both been too sick to even contemplate a piece. A month later, exhilarated from a beautiful big climb, and a bit skinnier from a forced altitude diet we descended in search of the famed bakery. Alas, there was no cake to be found in Namche. Undeterred, for Lara embraced every challenge with such exuberance and cunning, we hiked the next day with our mission to Lukla. Immediately after arriving, Lara and I discovered but two pieces in the entire town. This was only a problem because as all her dear friends know, Lara had this infectious way about her. Whatever she sought she never failed to inspire everyone else to want too. So, for days our entire team had been salivating over those two pieces of chocolate cake we had just secretly devoured. Lara was also the most thoughtful and considerate person I know and, unlike most of us – she would always follow through. So, with her sassy smile, savvy negotiating skills and a bazillion rupees she got the bakery to bake our team a double chocolate cake with frosting and deliver it to us later that night. It was a hit and we washed that cake down with many Nepali beverages, thus passing an unforgettable night!
A few times, Lara, Merridy, Tracy and I would rally a girl’s weekend. These were always such fun and I will always remember the last one. The three ladies drove north to meet me listening to happening tunes and reading ‘girlie’ magazines they’d picked up on their way out of town. At the lakeside hut we drank, gossiped and laughed all night, but then, true to form, Lara awakened us early to a truly amazing cup of coffee and a plan. The next twelve hours would invariably be spent chasing her (and Merridy) on the slopes. Tracy and my only respite would be when the two speed racers would need a coffee refuel. Lara had a fantastic tele style. Imagine a cross between a dive-bomber and a slolem racer. She would point her skis down with her helmeted head leading the way as she carved flawless tight turns. The stares from the boys were always priceless. Gawk as they would though, Chad had her heart.
The tragic night Chad was informed of the accident, I was unable to sleep. Instead I remembered the many times I shared with them as a couple. Those happy moments when I saw both Chad and Lara fall in love and the many bright moments in the subsequent years as they grew their lives together. My favorite memory of them remains seeing the two of them up to delightful mischievousness, holding hands and skipping across a Mendozan plaza...
This is how I will always remember Lara … smiling radiantly and filling that plaza with her beauty, her compassion and her brilliance. She inspired all who loved her profoundly or even those who just glimpsed her briefly, to live more deeply.
Two weeks before Mt. Wake I jotted this quote from a book I was reading that now sadly speaks of Lara: “To a life extraordinary, to a life less ordinary, to a life lived beautifully and if by chance that short, vivid.” I miss Lara fiercely and I thank her for touching my life so beautifully and so vividly.
Cecelia Mortenson
