In memory of Keith

Cat's claw, cruisers, and cairns

Sweet Armarator

🐸🛬

MysterZ -> Requiem

Some of the very best days I’ve had in the mountains were shared with Keith. Our first outing together was an impromptu scramble of the crux of my Bushwhackathon, a 26 mile ‘shwacking fest that Keith had seen on my Strava and was stoked on trying himself. In classic fashion, we went out in the hot SPlatte sun with only 500 mL of water and a single bar between us. Keith didn’t even bother to take his shoes off at the river crossing, opting for wet feet for the remainder of the day. We shared several hours in the mountains that day, moving through one of my favourite places on the planet. Once we got back onto the trail, we ran fast together, sussing out each other’s strength. It was a magical day, and the first of many grand adventures in the mountains together.

The seed that was planted on that first day out was one of true acceptance, trust, and an understanding of what’s important. Over the course of the following years, as we spent hours playing together in the mountains, we both nurtured that seed until it bloomed into the best partnership I’ve had with another mountain athlete. We pushed each other the perfect amount, but neither of us questioned the other’s judgment when they weren’t feeling it. Turning around was always an option, and there wasn’t any rigidly fixed objective on the days we went out – we went out to have a day in the mountains, whatever that entailed. Whether that was having a perfect fall day on the Little Bear/Blanca traverse or doing Goose Egg 6 times because it was the only dry rock in Boulder, it didn’t matter. We both really enjoyed being out, together, every time. 

When I was out with Keith, all that mattered was being there, in the now, sharing in the experience of moving through the mountains. We got along in a unique way that worked for both of us. I saw Keith at his most raw on top of Elbert, 70+ hours into Nolans, and he saw me when I was at my worst from my overtraining fiasco. Even with every semblance of a filter removed, Keith was someone who was stoked to be having a human experience. He was a genuine person who was thrilled to be able to live life, and he made the most of every day.

We talked a lot about the risk of playing in the vertical realm. Keith understood the consequences and he was highly aware of the fact that no one who plays in the mountains is immune to the risk. He did tell me that he normalized the risk on routes that he frequently climbed, and that that normalization scared him sometimes. He wouldn’t be afraid of DEF after doing it a lot, but he would feel the magnitude of the consequences when he returned to that route after a break. We talked specifically about Freezeway (the route he fell from) several months before the incident: he was scared of it, even after having done it several times. He told me he enjoyed the position of the route, and that feeling was enough to push through the fear on certain days. He also enjoyed the process of ‘getting it,’ which I always interpreted as trying to achieve mastery on a route. I got the sense that the mental challenge of that particular route appealed to him, and that was something he was working on overcoming. It was part of his process, and I respect his process. 

For many years, I’ve thought about and read from others what it’s like to lose close mountain friends. Having now gone through the process and seen the grieving of so many people, I emotionally understand the magnitude of what happens when one makes a fatal mistake in the mountains. The real cost of making decisions to do things that have fatal consequences is paid for by the living. I have now felt the weight of that cost, and I can incorporate it into my own decision matrix. 

Keith always said I was like a brother to him, and I loved him unconditionally for who he was. I suppose that’s what brotherly love is. He was my best friend. I was always so excited to spend time with him, and I’m absolutely crushed that our shared time has come to an end. We always joked about how one day when we were old and broken, we’d scramble up something with a good view and sit together, reveling in the beauty of the universe and silently sharing our final moments together – then we’d take the quick way down when we were ready… I’m glad he died doing what he loved most, and I hope he enjoyed his last day in the mountains as much as all of the others. 

Rest in piece Keith. 

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Justin Swantek

In memory of Keith

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In memory of Keith

Cat's claw, cruisers, and cairns

Sweet Armarator

🐸🛬

MysterZ -> Requiem

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