I started climbing in 1992 in a town with a small climbing community, so my link to the “scene” was through climbing magazines, books and videos. There were many names that stood out for me, Jeff Lowe, Wolfgang Gullich, Tony Yaniro, John Long and many, many others, but the one that stood out above the rest was John Bachar. His image leapt off the pages with exposure inducing photos of him soloing (climbing without a rope) groundbreaking climbs. Videos of his exploits in early Masters of Stone made me yearn to be a real climber and head to California and experience the Sierras, Yosemite and Joshua Tree. Tales of his $10,000 bounty to anyone who could follow him for a day put him so far above everyone else that in my mind there was nobody in the climbing world that could ever match John.
Six years later while working for Rockreation in Salt Lake City, I answered a phone call from Boreal USA asking if someone would be available to help them with the Outdoor Retailer Trade Show. Immediately I volunteered and days later my wife and I were setting up a booth in the Salt Palace when John walked in. I immediately recognized him and stood dumbly as he introduced himself and started to help us put the booth together. While working the 4 day show, John patiently answered all my questions about his climbing career, signed autographs and revealed the everyday normal side of himself to me.
Over the next 8 years we saw each other at shows and events and kept planning to meet up to climb together but it never seemed to work out. The Summer OR show in 2006 we hung out and spoke for a couple hours, again loosely planned to climb together in the fall and then said goodbye. While driving back to California with his girlfriend Anastasia and business partner Steve Karafa in the car, John fell asleep at the wheel just outside of Ely, Nevada and rolled his 4 runner. The wreck instantly killed Steve and broke John’s back. Anastasia suffered only minor injuries and was able to fly with John back to the University of Utah Hospital in Salt Lake where he underwent numerous surgeries. I found out about the accident from a mutual friend and went immediately to the hospital. John was a bit out of it still, but was stable. He asked if I might be able to go to Ely with Anastasia to get their things out of what was left of the truck, so we left right away. The car ride was sureal, a 3 hour drive on lonely roads in the middle of nowhere picturing the wreck, thinking about how fragile our stake in life is. John was a legend on the rock. For almost 30 years he had solo’d routes no others would even think of attempting without a rope and always had the presence of mind to back down when he felt things were not right. For years people had predicted his death while climbing, but almost taken out in a car wreck?
We spoke little in the car, Anastasia was still in shock and her thoughts came out jumbled and confused. 20 miles before Ely, we passed the site of the wreck but we could not bring ourselves to stop. We kept on to Ely and made our way through town to the repair shop where his 4 Runner had been towed. When we first saw the truck, we slowly circled it not believing that John survived. The drivers side was completely mashed, the seat covers stained in blood. Broken glass was everywhere. On the floor next to the gas pedal was a John Coltrane cassette tape filled with blood still not dry. Their bags were scattered throughout the truck, the contents spilt out haphazardly. I crawled in and started handing what I could out the windows. Shattered pieces of peoples lives. A old wall hammer with a skyhook attached by a 3 foot long piece of webbing. Bags of climbing shoes, a glove box with personal letters, photos and knickknacks collected over the years. We hauled out everything we could and headed back to Salt Lake, stopping only briefly at the crash site. This was definitely not the way I ever thought I’d get to know one of my hero’s better.
John recovered from the wreck and started climbing again, even starting up a smaller and easier solo circuit around his home in Mammoth, California. We saw each other again at all the trade shows and then just 2 months ago at a slide show in Provo, Utah. Over the years our conversations changed from my Hero-worshipping climbing questions to normal conversations with a friend. He was still a hero to me, one that I thought would always be around, so when each trip fell through including one we were supposed to meet up on in February of this year, it was not that big of a deal. We’d just get together in the fall.
Early this morning I logged in and saw the news, John had died in a fall while soloing over the weekend. The climbing community has lost one of our greatest Legends, John's son Tyrus lost his father and his family lost their son and brother. My condolences to them.
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