One year ago this week, my friend Catherine Nix died while climbing Teewinot Mountain. Teewinot is the sixth-highest peak in Wyoming鈥檚 Teton Range; it鈥檚 a jagged, pointy peak with room for just one person on its summit.听
Summiting Teewinot was just one item on Cath鈥檚 to-do list last summer; in September, she would move to New York to pursue a doctorate in child psychology at Pace University. For her last summer in Jackson, her home of five years, she wanted to tackle each of her favorite climbs, bike rides, and trail runs one more time. 聽
Catherine ticked off her demanding bucket list items all summer, sharing them on Instagram with the hashtag #victorylap. After all, she was celebrating her outdoor life in Jackson鈥攚inters skiing the backcountry and summers bagging the highest peaks in the Tetons.听
鈥淐utch鈥 was what most of her friends called her, especially around the time I met her in fifth grade聽at our all-girls school in Greenwich, Connecticut, when we became good friends. At a time when pubescent egos were eggshell-fragile, Cutch was the nicest friend I had. Attending different high schools and colleges, we grew less close, but we remained in touch as she moved to Jackson and I moved to Aspen. We shared an affinity for the mountains and life out West.听
On August 23, 2015, I woke to a voicemail from her cousin Emily, whose voice was thick with tears: 鈥淐utch died.鈥澛
Catherine and two friends were climbing a mountain in Jackson on August 22. They had veered off course from their planned route into more technical terrain; Catherine and her friend Tyler Strandberg fell from a steep ledge and did not survive. The third friend called 911 and was rescued by rangers via helicopter.听
The have been recounted numerous times, up through international news sources. I don鈥檛 want to focus on the headlines and the postulations of what might have gone wrong. They鈥檙e all slashed by one simple truth: it was unfair to the maximum degree.
That I see Catherine鈥檚 death as unjust isn鈥檛 only personal. Objectively, it doesn鈥檛 make sense that Catherine and Tyler, strong and capable climbers, died going up Teewinot. Catherine was the kind of athlete who ran back-to-back weekend marathons and sprinted up the toughest trails in the聽Tetons at altitude. She was too smart to be reckless and she knew the mountains in her backyard like the back of her hand. She鈥檚 the person I would鈥檝e wanted leading the way up any peak in the Teton Valley.
When the news of Catherine鈥檚 death hit, a part of me鈥攕eparate from the grief鈥攈ollowed in fear. The climb up Teewinot was not unlike one that my friends and I might have attempted in Aspen. I鈥檓 not as skilled or ambitious a climber as Cath was, but I like challenging myself, especially when the reward is endorphins and a breathtaking view. I still grapple with willfully but still semi-consciously handing Mother Nature the reins during outdoor pursuits.听
A few weeks after Catherine鈥檚 accident I was climbing Castle Peak, a fourteener in the Elk Mountains. After summiting, my friends and I linked over to Conundrum Peak, another fourteener accessible from Castle鈥檚 summit by traversing a short ridge. Soon after beginning our descent from the top of Conundrum, we realized the route wasn鈥檛 marked. I am going to buy better hiking shoes tomorrow, I promised myself as I teetered and skidded down the steep, gravelly terrain above the treeline. But maybe I won鈥檛 get the chance, I thought next. It happened to Catherine鈥攊t could happen to me. I shouldn鈥檛 have done this climb in my Nike Flyknits, but it鈥檚 too late now.听
That鈥檚 when I fell. My feet slipped out from under me and then I was sliding down the face of the mountain, gaining speed until I butt-bumped over a large rock and rolled to a stop. Terror and gratitude seized me. Other than a few cuts, a watermelon-sized bruise on my right thigh, and a ripped pair of Lululemons, I was fine. But the rest of the way down the mountain I was shaking, thinking only of Catherine as I tiptoed the remainder of the descent, even when the slope flattened. Driving away from the trailhead, my heart still hammered inside my chest. 聽 聽
I don鈥檛 know what Catherine thought about the risks tied to an adventurous lifestyle. I wish that I could ask her. I do know that she wasn鈥檛 the kind of person who would let fear thwart her goals鈥攕he loved life too much. She was adept and brave, and what happened a year ago was a terrible accident that cannot be dissected to reveal sense. 聽
As the dust continues to settle, I鈥檝e come to know that what happened to Catherine didn鈥檛 teach me fear for the sake of fear. Fear is an integral part of growth鈥攚e use it as fuel for what we want to achieve. We can鈥檛 let it bench us.
Cath鈥檚 friends and family continue to pay tribute. Her brother ran her place in the New York City Marathon months after the accident; a friend completed a 100-mile run in Leadville last weekend in Cath鈥檚 honor; the Jackson Hole Marathon, which Tyler and Cath both ran, .听
We鈥檝e transformed Cath鈥檚 hashtag #victorylap into . There鈥檚 no cure for the grief we鈥檒l continue to feel, but we鈥檙e channeling her spirit and positive energy into our own lives and out into a world that badly needs it.听
And when the sun lowers on the Tetons, tangerine light slipping down the rugged slopes, Catherine is still there, too.