Remembering Hans
Hans lived his life unapologetically.
He wasn’t interested in a normal life, marking the days till the weekend or the next vacation. He spent every single day in the mountains he loved, working with his friends, and taking care of his beloved dog. His life was rich and full and aligned with his core beliefs. He once told me that money is just another word for freedom, and that’s how he lived, long after most would have succumbed to societal pressures.
Hans was a consummate adventurer, and he walked through more of the wild places in this country than most people can even imagine. He was a trail blazer and a free spirit. He also shared his knowledge and expertise freely, leading those he cared about on countless adventures and making the outdoors more accessible for all who knew him.
He was a wilderness evangelist, and anyone who listened for any length of time would hear stories about some of the lesser known places that were so dear to him. The Wind River Range, Escalante, the Gore Range. I have, and will continue to, proudly follow in his footsteps.
Even when traveling solo, Hans would share his experiences in the form of jaw dropping photographs. He’d be out on a trail with half a toothbrush to save a few grams, but he’d still have 10 pounds of camera gear. Photography meant a lot to him, and he had a real gift for capturing the spirit of wild places.
He was always pushing himself and his craft. His early experiments with drone videography didn’t go so well, but he kept at it, kept practicing until he was able to make videos that National Geographic would be proud to have shot.
My whole life Hans has inspired me. He taught me about photography and reading topo maps, brought me on road trips when I was little, and took me in when I fell on hard times. but more than anything he taught me that life can be what you make it.
Hans lived among the people and places that he loved. He was passionate about his local community in a way that few are. The cabin he lived in was always a work in progress, and over time it came to embody his personality and values. His work, likewise, wasn’t just a way to make money, it was an extension of his love of natural places and desire to protect them for generations to come.
There’s a story I want to share about a time when I visited Hans for four days in the spring. We got up each morning and watched the early light filter through the swaying aspens outside his window. We made our way up mountains and skied down, his faithful dog bounding at his heels (Hans always worried she would get hurt by a ski, and trained her not to follow too close). We even spent some afternoons riding the swollen creek in a raft with his neighbor. The important thing about this story is that that trip was a pivotal moment in my life, but for Hans it was just a good weekend with his brother. He didn’t need to re-evaluate his priorities, or chase his dreams. He was right where he wanted to be.
