Fall 2006, It was the move in day of the outdoor Pursuits
floor at Roskie Hall, MSU. In the
evening after everyone had shuffled their belonging into their tiny dorm rooms
everyone gathered in the lounge to meet one another. Everybody looked like the typical ski and bike bums, with
hoodies and flat brimmed hats everywhere.
But in the middle of the circle was a guy with bright colored hair,
tattoos, and two rings on his bottom lip.
He looked like he got lost looking for the punk rock floor. His name was Kevin Volkening.
Kevin
obviously marched to the beat of his own drum, and the more everyone spent time
with him, the more we all realized how good that beat sounded. Kevin quickly grew to be someone who I
considered one of the best friends I have ever had. The number of people who would describe Kevin the same way
is reflective of his character and infectious personality.
What
stands out to me most in the early years was the Granite peak quest. Kevin and Austin originally hatched the
plan to knock off Granite Peak in the winter, something rarely done and way
over their heads (having never even been up the mountain in the summer). The first attempt yielded a lot of
effort for nearly no progress, trudging through deep snow in a storm up endless
switchbacks to no avail, ending before making it to the high plateau of the
approach route. The second
attempt, later that winter, made it further, heading high up drainage and near
the upper reaches of the plateau before Kevin broke a split board binding and
they retreated. The third attempt,
the next winter, which I tagged along with, resulted in us making it up the
plateau, to the high camp, and on the route to the summit before a massive
early morning storm forced us to retreat at high speed from 60 plus mph winds.
The
thing about all this effort to knock of one mountain, via one route in winter,
was how Kevin reveled in a challenge.
It wasn’t about the summit, Kevin loved the fact that he learned new
aspects of the mountains every time he went after something challenging. He reveled in the opportunity that a
goal provided. Through Kevin’s
life, he was always willing to go after something that was a little out of his
league, and just learn along the way until he got it.
Just
this last week I had a conversation with Kevin’s father, in which he shared
with me the advice he gave Kevin as he left for school. To balance himself between academia,
friends and relationships, as well as extracurricular life. We laughed at the fact that Kevin took
this not to mean equal thirds, but instead to give 110% to all three.
His
passion in the mountains was and is obvious, since those early days he has
progressed through learning to ice climb.
Returning to Alaska with Loren and continuing the tradition of patient
progression, taking a couple seasons to complete some amazing alpine
routes. Spending countless hours,
days, months, years, progressing himself into a fantastic sport climber, alpine
trad climber, boulderer. As his
blog says, Kevin loves to climb... Everything...
Kevin
put 110% into his academic and subsequent professional realm. He had done more relevant research
before arriving at college than most people do by the time they leave. I never knew intimately of Kevin’s
prowess in this area, but many of his colleagues have spoken so highly of him
in his work that it is obvious he carried the same passion in his professional
work.
Kevin’s
amazing friendship is the 110% aspect that I could speak of endlessly. Kevin was a shirt off his back kind of
friend, to everyone. He had so
many people that considered him a close friend because he made sure he knew and
cared for everyone’s life, personality, and passions. Kevin was always about sharing passion. The climbing club at MSU was such an
amazing example, when I came to MSU, it was a sad club with maybe 10 members
who really never did anything.
Kevin went from this under serving community to one of the largest clubs
on campus that held road trips to the climbing areas over a thousand miles from
Bozeman that included 40-50 students.
Many of these members were new climbers. The friendships, love for
climbing, and partnerships that stemmed from Kevin’s effort is countless. Kevin
was a friend who you always felt close to, whether you saw him last week or
hadn’t seen him in six months.
There was always an embrace and outgoing caring, and a good joke that
just brought you back.
I
remember when Kevin came back from a long trip shortly after beginning to date
Marge, we sat having beers in Bozeman and he told me that he missed Marge the
whole time, in a way he had never missed someone his whole life. I don’t know if he knew then but I did,
he had found his partner in crime.
The next time Kevin left for Alaska, he made sure Marge was coming to
meet him, there was a proposal waiting for her at the summit of a climb.
I
had the fortune this spring of briefly visiting Marge and Kevin in salt
lake. I hadn’t seen them for over
6 months, but they made it feel like it was last week. The same familiarity and genuine caring
that Kevin always contained. We
chatted about life, new directions, jobs, plans. I was so impressed and happy for the life Kevin had built,
for the accomplishments he had made in such a short time. It pains me to think of the bright
future that has been stolen from him, but I am comforted in the fact that Kevin
packed an average lifetime’s worth of adventure into 25 years.
This is the last paragraph of a story kevin wrote of one
early trip into the Beartooths. He
is speaking of Granite Peak, but I believe it sums up his passion for the
mountains.
“In
the dark she is waiting quietly. Her north face swept by wind or perhaps touched by a trace of snow. The summit, and snowbridge, and the bivouac sites,
are all waiting. Waiting for the beauty for which she showed us to seep into
our veins and consume our lives until we are forced to return. Thus, to her I
promise, I solemnly swear, I will visit you again in the winter when you are
cold and alone, and I will stand atop your summit.”
-Kevin
Volkening 1987-2013
