Saturday, October 22, 2011

John's "routine" climbs

Doing something we truly love while having a positive impact on as many people as John did sharing that love is the ultimate. Most men have the opportunity to do this sometime in their life—John embraced the opportunity. He passed his passion and the associated values of his love to many, pushing teenagers to grandparents from their comfort zone to success making better people of us all, on and off the mountain.

As I read many of these posts, I can tell there was something about climbs with John that weren’t exactly routine…most involve some sort of close call and almost always needing headlamps on the decent back to the car. We will shake our head and continue to laugh with you John as we tell these stories….but you always got us home to our family. Thank you.

Janet, thank you for sharing John with us. You and your family are in our prayers and this community cannot begin to pay back the sacrifices you made for John’s time and efforts.

Thank you John. You are and will continue to be missed.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

John Hazelton (1951-2011)

John was a man of many accomplishments. He was an athlete, logger, accountant, truck driver, family man, Scouter, and especially, to those of us here today, a good friend and fellow mountaineer. 

In his twelve years as a Mountaineer, John climbed over 100 mountains, both large and small.  He also helped with a similar number of field trips, work parties, planning sessions, first aid trainings, and other volunteer opportunities.

Personally, I stood on 35 summits with John.  Some, like our annual day trips to Unicorn (or, like Hardy and Jo before him, The Tooth) he did several times; while others, for example The North Sister, never allowed him a summit in spite of his three attempts.  (They do not call that one the “Ugly Sister” for nothing.)

Somethings could always be expected when out with John.  They are among the reasons we loved and will always remember him: fresh coffee in the morning, his snoring, his sense of humor, and of course his favorite sayings and the stories he told.

Many of his stories were relevant and emphasized an important point about climbing. 

His snoring, of course, was legendary, but then he is the only person that I have ever met who not only routinely gave fair warning to his tent mates, but offered them a set of ear plugs upon retiring for the night. 

He was an intelligent, well read, and witty individual; hence his humor was all over the place.  It ranged from being hilariously funny, to something that required a lot of analytic thought before you really got all of the warped, twisted, and more subtle meanings. 

Sometimes his jokes could be a bit barbed, but before you could get overly upset, that big teddy bear heart of his would come through and he would do something like wake you up at 2:00am for a glacier climb by handing you a fresh brewed cup ofhot coffee.  John himself had probably already been up for some time preparing ropes and gear for the climb—regardless of who was the designated climb leader.

I’m going to let others tell their stories, but I will mention just a few epic moments:

  +There were a few close calls when our training, experience, and quick thinking literally saved our lives.  John was a good man to have on the other end of a rope.
  +The day that we told our wives that we were going for a day climb up the north face of Chair and that we should be home by three o’clock. (And we were!  Yes, we were exactly twelve hours late.) 
  +Or the time he dropped his watch and we watched it fall 1500 feet straight down off the west face of Cruiser.  (There is a lot of air on that mountain.)
  +The bottle of wine he carried on the approach to Pershing because it was my birthday.
  +The time our party became separated on the descent from Sherpa.  After two hours of anxious waiting, John and I heard voices and footsteps approaching camp in the dark.  It turned out to be two women passing through en route to the trailhead after climbing Stuart. (I’ve never been quite so disappointed to have two beautiful women walk into my life.)
  +And of course, there was the day when he led the party down off the Middle Sister in atotal whiteout, and walked straight into camp.

This list goes on and on, but I had best stop before I am accused of trying to ‘outstory’ the great storyteller himself. But then, I suppose someone will need to take on the role.  Indeed, we will all need to step up a bit more often in the future in order to fill the huge hole that John leaves behind in our hearts and lives.  I ask every onehere to do something:  Leaders, lead one more climb next year than you did this year.  Volunteers, put one more day into trail maintenance, become a committee member, a first aid teacher, or perhaps a mentor; but do something to help.  It’s not the only way you can remember John of course, but it is, one way, that I know he would approve of.

John used to say:

    John was born in the east, and then lived in the Midwest before moving to the West Coast.  Here is one his favorite sayings from each of these locales:

Usually spoken on the way home from a climb after stopping for a hot burger and a cold beer. (Mid west drawl)
“I feel a lot more like I do now than when I came in here.”

John was a Red Green fan.  (West Coast accent)
“Most things can be fixed with just two items:  Duct tape to secure things that move, but shouldn’t; and WD-40 to fix things that should move, but don’t.”

When route finding became difficult and we needed to find an alternative. (With a strong New England accent)
“I don’t think you can get to there, from here.”

--Steve Townsend

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

John as teacher...

I had the pleasure of crossing paths with John when I was a basic climbing student
this year.  I say pleasure, but pleasure mixed with some trepidation.  Whenever I was assigned to his group or station my first reaction was, “oh no I got Hazelton”.  But, I quickly learned that he knew his stuff and you would be best to not forget it once he taught it to you. 

John was also the leader on my first basic rock climb.  Our intended target was Chair Peak, but once John got a look at it he declared there was too much snow on the summit slope for us rookies and we wisely changed course to the Tooth.  All went well until on our first rappel down, one of the rope teams got their rope stuck and could not pull it free.  Of course it was John who climbed back up to free the rope.  When he got back down he said he had to unclip and free climb the last bit; he had a big smile on his face and a gleam in his eyes as he told that part.

We stopped for a celebratory meal in North Bend afterwards and John regaled us with story after story, even more so after his second beer.  I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to know him better or longer, but I’m thankful for the time I had with him.  He was a great leader and his confidence inspired me and helped make me confident in my abilities.

Climb on, John!

Bryan Gillette

Monday, October 10, 2011

Big John




When I saw the club email message about an accident and John's name I truly expected to read that John had saved someone else with some big, heroic act. What a shock! John was a John Wayne type of guy. I still believe that might have happened. In that instant of the accident I believe that John would be thinking of someone else and not worrying about himself. John's generosity was boundless. He led many, many basic climbs. (The image is from one of John's many trips up The Tooth.) He showed up for almost all of the basic field trip and the intermediate field trips. He even showed up for the lectures and stayed until 10:00 or later even though he had to get up super early in the morning. John was an old fashioned, bigger than life kind of hero. He touched the lives of countless Mountaineers. He leaves a tremendous hole behind. He also leaves a legacy of confident climbers behind. We are confident because he taught us and encouraged us and gave from his heart without hesitation. God Bless you, John. You are deeply missed and will not be forgotten.
- Scott Davidson

Thursday, October 6, 2011

My friend John ...

 I can see the smile on your face as I sit and think of you. I can see the friendly hand that you always shared. I miss those things...you made the world a better place. In your memory, I will smile at a stranger, I will offer a helping hand to a person in need, and when I climb, I will try not think of the summit or the grade, but of the beauty that surrounds me.

--Pat Lindenbach

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Memories

John was a true honest character. You always knew when you went up to talk to him that you would get a story out of the encounter. He was the best kind of person to have on a long trail trek – you could never get bored!! John and I started the Mountaineers Scrambles class at the same time and went through many a field trip since then. He loved teaching and seeing the ‘ah ha’ moment in the students faces when they finally mastered the skill. He touched the lives of so many in the scrambling and climbing program. We will truly miss his engagement and passion.
--Lisa Berntsen

Monday, October 3, 2011

Where the Angels Are

Blinding white, crystal bright
the snow that calls from high.

The tug, like gravity upside-down,
pulls us towards the sky.

'Till the sky we meet and the track does end,
and we stop to look and see.

And we are thankful for this magnificent adventure,
and we feel the joy to be.

While we're there, we know full-well this place
can bite and take it all,

For dust is dust and snow does fly to
search a place to fall.

So, if it bites, and if we fall,
we'll cast a wish upon our brethren star,

that we don't forget the choice to live by
being up so far...

And that we've allready tread, so thankfully,
near where all the angels are.

by "Gliding"
 posted on http://www.turns-all-year.com