We’ve written before about Chris Street, our beautiful bird nerd friend who died from cancer on November 12, 2009, shattering our hearts.

c street hawk

C. Street, as most called him, loved mountains without discrimination, but I had the privilege of getting to know him in Glacier’s peaks, and as such he’s become a part of that core group of people missing from my life that keep me headed into Glacier’s wildest places, again, and again. My own beloved brother, Howard, with whom I first witnessed the cerulean perfection of Iceberg Lake; Steve Lee, my co-worker at St. Mary Lodge who first whispered a few of Many Glacier’s off trail secrets into my open ears; and C. Street, Layla Jane’s boyfriend with whom I spent one of the most delightful August days of my life, exploring Floral Park and Sperry Glacier. I cannot think of the otherworldly views from Floral Park, nor the turkey and dressing from Sperry Chalet, without thinking of Chris. Nor can I gaze knowingly at the tip top of Going-to-the-Sun Mountain without remembering his infamous summit on my wedding day, a summit he made with such power that he was seated in the audience as I made my way down the aisle at 5:00 sharp.

Today, Chris would be 31.

I think I’ll spend at least part of the afternoon with my weathered topo and a notebook, scratching out a few routes to try for Chris, this summer. Until then, I’ll see him in every majestic raptor that Maggie Rose points to and I cannot name, and I’ll hear his innate kindness reflected back in Layla’s patient voice, over a glass of wine, and I’ll know that it’s not much, but we’ll never stop remembering C. Street.

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