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.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
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
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
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
--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
--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
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
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Gone from mystery into mystery
It was just in late August that I had the pleasure of getting reacquainted with John, on an exploratory scramble traversing Boundary Peak. It was a perfect day, and his humor and expertise were in full form, as was his evident satisfaction with life and love for his family. I marveled that at 60, John was stronger than I had ever been. John was one of a kind.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Thinking of John
I immediately got a long with John, not despite his crass nature but probably because of it. We instantly bonded over stories from NewEngland and I enjoyed his jokes immensely. There was a point during climbing that I was told I wouldn’t be able to finish because of missing a certain step due to work. John vouched for me saying something to the effect of he would rather climb with me than most others and he trusted me (probably because I laughed at his jokes and didn't get offended easily!). I have so much respect for John so it meant the world to me.
Such an honor to have met him and spend the short amount of time in his presence. He will be missed.
-- Rebecca White
Such an honor to have met him and spend the short amount of time in his presence. He will be missed.
-- Rebecca White
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Thank you John
John was more than just a mentor to our daughter Rachel, he was probably the most important person in helping her reach her goal to climb Rainier in 2010. He tirelessly led her and others on scrambles and climbs nearly every weekend in summer 2009, to help them complete their requirements. He chided her when she faltered and made her work all the harder to gain his much sought approval! Not only was he a climb leader on these trips, he often volunteered to pick her up and take her back to our house in North Tacoma, as she was too young to drive. I don't know if she would be a freshman at UW today if it wasn't for his help, as she wrote her application essay about her goal to climb Rainier being realized, and all the help she received from friends and mentors like him along the way. He made it happen and we will be forever grateful to him.
Never did hear enough of his stories....
I only had the chance to go on a couple climbs with John, and neither turned out to be the epic adventures that he seemed to attract. Each time, the day flew by as John filled it with stories and cautionary tales, with the occasional joke tossed in for flavor.
On one of our climbs he told me the reason he liked the basic climbs so much was because he got to see so many new climbers find out what they could really do and see their accomplishment. I don't doubt that for a minute. He seemed to want to help everyone, in his own gruff way, to be better.
On one of our climbs he told me the reason he liked the basic climbs so much was because he got to see so many new climbers find out what they could really do and see their accomplishment. I don't doubt that for a minute. He seemed to want to help everyone, in his own gruff way, to be better.
The world is poorer now, having lost another good man and a great storyteller.
Go in peace, John.
You will be missed.
You will be missed.
Friday, September 23, 2011
John tells it like it is
John had the true Mountaineers spirit. He was generous with his time, helping out with many field trips at the Clubhouse. What I loved about John was that he wouldn't sugar coat things, he would tell it as he saw it. If your knot was wrong, he'd say so and then show you how to fix it.
Our schedules and the weather only lined up for one trip together, a snowshoe/ski trip at Rainier last December. I'll just echo what others have said: John had the best stories. Listening to him tell little anecdotes and off the cuff remarks made the ride up to the mountain fun.
Our schedules and the weather only lined up for one trip together, a snowshoe/ski trip at Rainier last December. I'll just echo what others have said: John had the best stories. Listening to him tell little anecdotes and off the cuff remarks made the ride up to the mountain fun.
A Mountaineer Mentor Who went the Extra Distance
During the spring of 2007 I decided to follow through with my intentions of becoming a Scramble Leader for the Tacoma Mountaineer Branch. I came to the Mountaineers with a few years of trip leading for other organizations already, so I filled out the petition paperwork and sent it in. From what I understand, only one member of the board said, “Maybe he should complete a mentored lead before we give him status,” and that was John Hazelton. I accepted and invited John to be my mentor. He readily agreed and didn’t have any preferences for summits. I chose one that I had my eye on: Mt. Baring.
Our group was a collection of known and unknown participants to me, and the scramble went forward without a hitch. However, we were nearly back to a traversing trail that led to a ridge walk, and John tripped and fell down. He got up, declared, “I think I hurt myself bad,” and limped to a nearby log to take a look. We redistributed his gear, and John hobbled out the remaining mile and 1800ft descent to the trailhead strong, steady and in good spirits. When asked at future mountaineer events he would show his scar and tell us “I wanted to make sure he got the full, leader experience.”
Experienced, available, honest in a sometimes gruff way, helpful, and resourceful, he always had a story to tell from climbing a remote peak, injuring himself on a mentored trip or paying full price for backpack. We will miss you, John Hazelton.
- Justin McClellan
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Shared loss
Love takes many forms –
leading, mentoring, being there.
John’s loss leaves a void.
-- Geoff Lawrence
Monday, September 19, 2011
My favorite "Hazelton Epics"!
John was a great climbing mentor to me and several of my friends who recently went through the courses. I had the privilege of sharing many beautiful summits with him, including Olympus, Eldorado, and Baker, but the memories that really stand out belong in the "Hazelton epic" category for which he had a well deserved reputation!
The first was my first rope lead, a basic climb attempt of the NE Buttress of Chair Peak over Memorial Day weekend last year. We started out with clear skies and shortly after starting out from the trailhead John received a call on his cell with the great news of the birth of a grandchild in Colorado. We were all in good spirits, and John of course was at his storytelling best, the gleam in his eye of grandfatherly pride. A couple hours into the approach the weather started to turn, and we ran into more winter-esque conditions than we had anticipated, but John was ever optimistic and by God he had students to get to the top so we pressed on. Always enthusiastic, we kept going, stretching at least my limits, until we finally turned back 100' from the top. We ended up doing several rappels in the dark, me coughing up blood (as I later found I had pneumonia), getting back well after midnight, and had to cancel the next day's climb of The Tooth. John at one point said "I figured if the doctor was coughing up blood and he was still going we must still be OK to go on!" I think we blew the students' minds that day! I did get up Chair with John later in the summer, in slightly better conditions.
The second memorable epic was a private climb of Boston with John and Tyr over Labor Day last year. The pic above is near the summit of Boston. We scrambled and climbed the junk pile of loose rock and got up to the top with John taking the lead much of the way. We had no desire to downclimb the rubble we'd come up, so John suggested a "shortcut" to the Quien Sabe Glacier. The shortcut ended up involving rapping off 3 bollards and a dead man down 45+ degree snow at times, in the dark, the last rappel free-hanging for 20+ feet over a bergschrund, with a 70m turned 50m rope (thanks to rockfall) that we nonetheless rapped 5 times over the break in the rope because we had to! We made it back to camp again well after midnight after wandering around the moraine, but John showed us a lot about keeping moving and keeping our spirits up!
Through these epic experiences John helped to stretch me as a climber and as a person. I will miss his big heart for passing on his knowledge and humor and love of life to all he came in contact with.
John loans out his long underwear - much appreciated!
I have so many memories of John! John deep frying turkeys at Pre Thanksgiving Thanksgiving in Vantage. John telling his copious jokes. John always ready to help at a field trip.
My most vivid memory of John was at the 2004 Ice II field trip. It was raining pretty much non stop and John had been smart enough to pick up rain gear. It was very yellow. I remember him looking like the Gorton's Fisherman all weekend! That weekend I was soaked through to the skin, had no dry clothes, and was sitting in my sleeping bag in my underwear when John came to the tent door and asked if I was coming out for shared appetizers. I explained my predicament and a short time later there was John's voice at the tent door - "Susan, do you want some pork?" After handing me some bbq pork through the door, he went to his tent and retrieved his dry long underwear. I was SO grateful for his help and generosity! Eric had to force me to give John his dry long undies back the next day :) We have laughed about it many times.
Most recently I helped at Intermediate Rock II in Squamish and was happy to see John there too. We caught up a bit. John told me about his family and his pride in their success and accomplishments was apparent. My heart goes out to all of John's family for their loss.
John will be missed. By friends. By family. By me.
Susan Kennedy
My most vivid memory of John was at the 2004 Ice II field trip. It was raining pretty much non stop and John had been smart enough to pick up rain gear. It was very yellow. I remember him looking like the Gorton's Fisherman all weekend! That weekend I was soaked through to the skin, had no dry clothes, and was sitting in my sleeping bag in my underwear when John came to the tent door and asked if I was coming out for shared appetizers. I explained my predicament and a short time later there was John's voice at the tent door - "Susan, do you want some pork?" After handing me some bbq pork through the door, he went to his tent and retrieved his dry long underwear. I was SO grateful for his help and generosity! Eric had to force me to give John his dry long undies back the next day :) We have laughed about it many times.
Most recently I helped at Intermediate Rock II in Squamish and was happy to see John there too. We caught up a bit. John told me about his family and his pride in their success and accomplishments was apparent. My heart goes out to all of John's family for their loss.
John will be missed. By friends. By family. By me.
Susan Kennedy
Saturday, September 17, 2011
John - Oh the Memories!
John - was with Alan Altman and Wayne Sladek today, we remembered one of the first trips I led as a leader, a scramble to Observation Rock, and you and David joined as well. This was August and the road was gated way way down from Mowich, so we hiked up the road. Shortly after a Park Service truck drove by, didn't even give us a ride. Then David had to run back 1.5 miles and get his ice axe, he was strong and fast and caught back up to us at Mowich Lake. So the day is getting long already. We hiked up to Fay Peak and then saw Observation so so far in the distance, called it a day. Meanwhile the Park truck was doing wheelies in the parking lot, the driver said he was trying to break up the snow. Wayne remembered the loud Loons that were playing in the lake, I guess that is a rare event to behold. Anyway, this was the first of many trips with you, I saw how much you loved to get out with your son David.
I talked you into taking Basic and then mentored you in Intermediate, and you then became a prolific climb leader. I remember the stories of the difficult job doing accounting for some company, wanted to change jobs. You had several stories of David and how he was progressing in school at Hilo, you were very proud of him.
I'm going to miss you John, you were always there to volunteer for the Mountaineers, leading committees that others would rather not, you led Scrambles Leadership for a couple of years, then MOFA instructor (whew!), and kept leading Basic climbs. You will be missed. I am glad to have had the privilege of knowing you. Dan Lauren
Hey Jim, have you heard the one about ...... endless laughing. How many time did I hear that lead in, "hey Jim, have you heard the one about" ... the near-sighted sailor, the Boston nun, the Montana cowboy, the one-legged hooker .... the list goes on and on. I'll miss those stories, I'll miss those stories a lot. John knew how to laugh too much, drink too much, and snore too much. I think one night at Frenchman's Coulee, the sonic vibration from his snoring brought down one of the basalt columns and that was the end of the route, John's Uvula Quivers. John will be missed. He made such an impact on so many people. Our tribe morns its loss, but we are stronger for having known him.
Jim Feltus
Remembering John
John was at his best telling stories around the campfire. He must have saved up all year for the Cinco de Mayo climbing field trips to Leavenworth in May and the Climbing Turkeys celebrations at Frenchman Coulee in November. He was a constant source of entertainment, and a big presence wherever he went. I'll miss that infectious grin, tasty turkey, and more than a few inappropriate jokes. --Mindy Roberts
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