his presence was pervasive, extending far beyond the sheer rock faces. like a guardian spirit of the climbing world, he would materialize precisely where his support was most needed, particularly for those navigating the profound grief that often shadowed mountain life.
the passing of a loved one was a silent summons, and he possessed an uncanny ability to offer solace to those grappling with loss, a somber reality for individuals whose lives were intimately tied to the wild.
niels's fall sent ripples through the climbing community, a seismic event that seemed to crack the very foundations of yosemite valley.
the impact was palpable, a figurative stream of sorrow flowing from the iconic fifi buttress, merging with the Merced river. amidst this outpouring of grief, the search and rescue (sar) operations site remained a hub of activity. it was friday, november 17th, when scott deputy contacted me.
overwhelmed, i began to weep and ended the call.
his body was discovered four days later. i had not only witnessed his effortless ascents of yosemite's walls, as if traversing a familiar park, but i had also shared climbs with him. the initial shock gave way to a profound concern for his family: his parents and his sister jo.
the question lingered: would they want me there?
we gathered, sharing beer and food, recounting stories that filled the kitchen with a comfortable camaraderie. niels had once guided us to his basement's wax room, a sanctuary where the family meticulously prepared their skis and stored their adventuring gear.
the aged, burnt-orange shag carpet exuded the characteristic aroma of a mountain lodge's backroom - the lingering scent of warm wax, well-worn boots, and the dust of countless expeditions.
strangely, the room felt simultaneously imbued with a sense of spectral presence and the heartwarming spirit of christmas morning.
perhaps it was fatigue, but i felt a profound urge to simply rest there. outside, the wind howled, and the cold seeped in, a window frame rattling rhythmically all night beneath a painting created by kyle.
as we departed the following morning, chris was already present in the dining room, by the front door, engrossed in the newspaper over a cup of coffee.
bud and i expressed our gratitude and bid him farewell. i tried to convey to his father that niels was the most capable and formidable presence in the valley, a beacon of strength.
bud, a seasoned sar site member himself, responded with perfect understanding. the preceding day, drew had been called out on a rescue mission on el capitan.
niels had been assisting, and during a conversation with drew, they had made plans to climb together the following morning.
then, the storm hit. it had been approximately four days since anyone had heard from niels when drew, driving past the bridalveil fall parking area, noticed his truck still parked there.
accompanied by alix and another friend, drew embarked on a hike that led them to niels's location at the base of fifi buttress.
based on their initial observations, it appeared that all the ropes had been detached from the rock face. scott had been the one to relay the news, hadn't he? the sar site members continued their vital work, piecing together the tragic events that had befallen one of their own.
the thought of it revisits me daily.
a tourist's fall, the loss of a colleague, a relative, a friend. with each climber's death, a well-meaning voice within the climbing fraternity echoes the sentiment: "this one truly hurts." this phrase, prevalent in the climbing community, underscores the unfortunate frequency of such tragedies.
sar site member chris gay, driven by his passion, decided to embark on another solo ascent of 'hobbit book,' a renowned climb in tuolumne that winds through a left-facing dihedral, culminating on an exposed face with textured holds.
chris had successfully free-soloed this route on numerous occasions prior; it was well within his abilities and comfort zone.
however, he never returned to his campsite that evening. many of the climbs in tuolumne bear names inspired by j.r.r. tolkien's literary works.
it's possible new ascents were established with tolkien-themed names, perhaps as a subtle way to keep chris engaged. 'hobbit book' was undoubtedly one of his personal favorites.
around 8 a.m., while we were gathered at a picnic table, the call came in.
katy had first encountered chris three years earlier, during her initial season in yosemite. upon their first meeting, she found herself somewhat intimidated by him. chris kindly showed katy around the site and helped her find a place to stay. their budding friendship blossomed, and katy was immediately drawn to chris's character.
his interests were broad, spanning literature to musical instruments.
in the mornings, he would ascend the rocks above camp 4, serenading the valley with his shakuhachi. i found myself reflecting on chris. that autumn, a significant portion of the sar community shifted their focus to bouldering. later, katy relocated to joshua tree and resumed her climbing pursuits.
i ceased climbing after niels's accident.
my wife and i had married and started a family; niels had even traveled to officiate our wedding ceremony. with the arrival of our child, new career paths opened up, and climbing activities had already begun to take a backseat. niels's passing served as the definitive catalyst for my departure from the sport.
last year, my daughter, willa, and i were browsing streaming options when an image from 'the dawn wall' appeared on the screen.
she became captivated by tommy and alex, and ultimately, by the sport of climbing itself. the previous fall, we joined a local climbing gym together. she was resolute, refusing any form of assistance, whether it was 'hangdogging' (resting on the rope) or being lowered before reaching the top of the climb.
one day, i discovered drawings in her backpack depicting el capitan, with the meadow below and climbers silhouetted on ledges beneath the overhang.
this past thanksgiving, we journeyed to yosemite. following a festive thanksgiving dinner with friends and former sar site members, many of whom now had young families like ours, a friend suggested a climbing excursion to pat and jack pinnacle for the children.
upon hearing the invitation, willa's enthusiasm was undeniable, and there was no question about our participation.
i belayed her as she ascended approximately 30 feet on a 5.7 route. after about twenty minutes of strenuous effort, i called up to her, indicating it was time to descend. she untied her knot and, with a burst of energy, jogged to the summit of a nearby boulder, where she sat, overcome with emotion and frustration, shouting at me.
feeling a pang of embarrassment at the scene, i guided her to the base of the pinnacle, further down the trail.
she simply needed the opportunity to mature and grow. i often provide her with the chance to reset and approach challenges with a fresh perspective. upon our return to our friends, everyone was eager to witness her renewed determination. my daughter, visibly emotional, scrambled back up the 30 feet and began to work her way through the difficult section.
my friend garrett observed her progress.
this marked her inaugural climb in yosemite. garrett ascended to capture the moment while i gazed upwards, contemplating the multitude of seemingly insurmountable challenges that lay ahead. he would have been 38 years old, his brother kyle would have been 40, and his oldest brother, eric, would have been 47.
eric, the eldest, was a true renaissance man, displaying a keen interest in a vast array of subjects and possessing unparalleled prowess in the mountains.
eric dedicated 10 seasons to the bridger-teton trail crew and was a cherished member of the close-knit grand tetons community.
the tietze family home is situated at the base of mount olympus in salt lake city, the very place where the boys spent their formative years, often engaging in friendly races to its summit. as we toured their home, chris and becky shared poignant memories.
we examined a guitar niels had crafted, fossils and rocks he had collected from his travels, paintings and writings adorning their walls, and even boulders that the boys had strategically repositioned in the yard.
a striking fulgurite, a specimen niels had once brought home from the desert, stood near the front entrance.
niels held a deep affection for his older brothers. as the youngest of the tietze boys, he embodied kyle's gentle nature and eric's robust strength.
he spent his childhood in pursuit of them throughout the wasatch range. chris recounted an anecdote from their youth, a mountain excursion where niels, still quite young, accompanied them snowshoeing. however, the smallest available snowshoes proved far too large for him.
'it will be an insurmountable challenge for you to keep pace with us.' whenever the boys became boisterous, becky would encourage them to spend their energy outdoors.
they would invariably return laden with ropes, crampons, skis, and sleds. all their gear was systematically stored in the basement's wax room. mount olympus, where he conducted a fitting ceremony.
at some point during the evening, i ventured downstairs, drawn by an urge to revisit the wax room.
the door, however, was closed. i harbor a peculiar theory about basements: that they bear the collective weight of a house and its inhabitants, absorbing the love and energy of a family, trapping it within their depths.
and in doing so, time seems to stand still.
she had relocated some time ago. her parents mentioned she was coping as best she could, and they made an effort to see her whenever opportunities arose. as we strolled through the yard, becky pointed out various cracks and chimneys on mount olympus, familiar routes the boys had enjoyed exploring.
she gestured towards a boulder, situated high above, where niels would often sit and play his didgeridoo.
his deep, resonant sounds would echo off the mountainside, carrying down into the quiet suburban streets below, leading neighbors to speculate about visiting UFOs or niels himself being at home. i gathered my belongings, expressing my sincere gratitude to the tietze family for their gracious hospitality and the stories they shared.
and for granting me permission to write about niels.
chris sat in the same familiar spot where bud and i had last seen him, offering another thoughtful parting remark. in 2008, he acquired his distinctive white and yellow van, courageously leaving behind the life he had established in santa cruz to fully immerse himself in his profound passion for rock climbing.
during the spring and summer seasons, chris dedicated his time as a climber steward in yosemite, contributing over 2,000 volunteer hours.
his work involved restoring access trails, meticulously clearing discarded ropes and equipment, closely monitoring the peregrine falcon populations nesting on the sheer cliffs, and educating fellow climbers and park visitors about ecological preservation, climbing routes, and the principles of leaving no trace.
concurrently, chris - a devoted admirer of j.r.r.
tolkien - embarked on a personal quest to ascend every route within the park that bore names referencing his favorite author. as he successfully completed these tolkien-themed ascents, he further contributed by helping to establish new routes, including "valinor," a challenging 5.12b.
he dedicated six summers to this specialized team, five of which were spent in yosemite valley and the most recent summer in tuolumne meadows.
his extensive knowledge of yosemite proved invaluable to the team, as did his deliberate and thoughtful approach to every situation. when responding to incidents, chris consistently advised the team to adopt a measured pace before initiating action.
once on scene, his primary focus was on calming distressed individuals, guiding them through controlled breathing exercises, and providing them with constant reassurance of their safety.
over a period of six years, chris participated in numerous incidents, logging 1,000 hours of service, and played a crucial role in the rescue and recovery of countless visitors, including many climbers.
he made it a point to climb with every member of the team, actively seeking ways to support their individual aspirations and achievements.
he diligently pursued more demanding objectives, gradually expanding his capabilities. he accomplished ascents of "the nose" in a single day, often referred to as "niad," on multiple occasions with various partners, frequently leading the challenging lower section.
with each subsequent ascent, he refined his efficiency, striving for ever-increasing speed.
later in that same season, he concentrated on leading the upper section of "the nose" several times, meticulously preparing for a solo niad ascent.
he successfully achieved this ambitious goal in august, completing the climb in an impressive 23 hours and 59 minutes.
nick fondly recalls chris, with his extensive experience climbing in the valley, serving as a true mentor. it felt akin to a profound awakening, a realization that we were experiencing something extraordinary, almost dreamlike.
chris approached life with intensity, embracing challenges wholeheartedly, but he also understood the importance of deep rest and rejuvenation. he particularly enjoyed the vibrant social atmosphere often found at the sar site.
many individuals who visited the site, and yosemite itself, remember chris as the welcoming presence who immediately made them feel a sense of belonging.
during inclement weather, he was often the first member at the site to consider shielding the communal fire pit with a tarp, ensuring the gathering space remained accessible. he would frequently add a log to the fire late at night, fostering continued camaraderie, only to silently retreat to his cabin minutes later.
his cabin was meticulously organized.
he cultivated a serene zen garden, meticulously maintained and raked. during the early spring and fall, he would diligently rake fallen leaves around the site, burning the piles while savoring a warm cup of coffee or tea. engaging in a casual game of hacky sack in a circle of friends felt like a meaningful activity.
chris was continuously committed to personal growth, cultivating mindfulness and compassion through practices such as playing the shakuhachi, meditation, writing, and extensive reading.
he held a deep appreciation for books like marshall b. rosenberg's "nonviolent communication." he was dedicated to the journey of self-discovery and fostering authentic relationships.
he cherished profound conversations, expressing a preference for one-on-one interactions.
his honesty was unwavering, at times almost uncomfortably so. in the early 2000s, chris began learning the shakuhachi, a traditional japanese bamboo flute integral to zen meditation and music. he would bring his shakuhachi on both climbing expeditions and rescue missions, using it as a tool to reconnect with his breath and to bring a sense of calm to those around him.