Making Sense of the Wolf
My good friend Terry O’Connor was killed in an avalanche in the Lost River Range in central Idaho last month. He had been skiing in some of Idaho's more remote ranges this spring, and as such, camping is usually required for an early start. Only a week before Terry’s death, a wolf came into his camp, and I’ve been trying to make some meaning of this because - as you will see - I can make no meaning of his death.
So.
Early on in Cormac McCarthy’s novel The Crossing, the older of two brothers sets out to find an old Mexican who might help him catch a she-wolf that has been molesting their cattle. He’s looking for a particular matrix to bait a trap. But the old man cautions that each hunter must have his own formula.
The old man went on to say that El lobo es una cosa incognoscible. (The wolf is unknowable.) Unknowable except that the wolf - like all wolves - is a hunter. He went on to say that the hunter was a different thing than men supposed. He said that men believe the blood of the slain to be of no consequence but that the wolf knows better. He said that the wolf is a being of great order and that it knows what men do not: that there is no order in the world save that which death has put there.
The old man went on to say that the wolf is like the copo de nieve (snowflake). You catch the snowflake but when you look in your hand you don’t have it no more. Before you can see it, it is gone. If you want to see it, you have to see it on its own ground. If you catch it you lose it. And where it goes there is no coming back from. Not even God can bring it back.
Terry’s photo of the wolf below.
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As a long time avalanche center forecaster and Jenny Lake climbing ranger in the Tetons, I’ve conducted a lot of accident investigations. With every accident, there are always two questions. The first one is easy - What happened? Ie - Where were they? What peak were they on? What was the structure of the snowpack or nature of the terrain? The second one is always more difficult:
*How could this have happened?*
And this, this I will struggle with for a very long time.
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Prior to seeing the wolf, Terry wrote
Spring- my favorite time of year. But not for the reasons you’d expect. Flip flops at car - sure great. The return of birds - yea awesome. Opportunity to work on the T-shirt tan - sweet.
Truth is, Spring is the time you get a thousand opportunities to make predictions about what lies around the corner and refute or verify on a day long journey. 1 extra hour of sun, 1 degree on the compass dial, 1 extra hour of wind can make all the difference between teeth-grinding breaker crust and perma-grin blower pow. Sweeping generalizations of the terrain and expectations rarely verify once you step into the terrain. Unlike most days in life - you get to pay attention. And if you believe, like me, that we humans are meaning making machines of the natural environment, well this is the time to grind it out and sharpen those skills. Not open season yet, but surprises await. Enjoy getting out y’all. Remember, must be present to win.
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All I can do is be present with my grief and share it with his friends and family and my friends and family. (Many of them, I am glad to know, overlap.) What I do know is that any path forward begins with an understanding that grief is a form of love. And to be grateful for that.
Terry's Celebration of Life was on the summer solstice in his hometown of Ketchum, Idaho. I have a few minutes speaking HERE; starting at roughly 1 hour and 02 minutes in.
The technical accident report, written by Ben VandenBos and published by the Sawtooth Avalanche Center, can be found HERE. Additional information from the Sawtooth Avalanche Center can be found HERE.
