In Memoriam: Nancy

Today, we are losing a deeply loved member of the climbing community.

Nancy, born in 1999, lived the first 12 years of her life as the redheaded stepchild of her family. She lived her days in a purgatory of work commutes, grocery store runs, and soccer games. In the end, she was eventually traded away for some fancy SUV – most likely a Subaru Outback. However, it was on a fateful spring day in 2011 day that the young man - pushing his dying $1,000 1992 Dodge Caravan down Flagstaff Mountain and into an auto shop on East Arapahoe Ave. - met Nancy. “I’m afraid she’s not going to make it”, the mechanic told him as he broke the news of the dying car. “But it just so happens”, he continued, “that I have a 1999 Dodge GRAND Caravan…with all-wheel-drive that I’d be happy to sell to you! It’s got a few more miles on it, but it runs great. So great, in fact, I’ll give you a 6 month warranty!”

Reluctant, the young man shelled over his $2,800 and drove home feeling depressed. The next several weeks were slow and sad as the young man adjusted and mourned his loss. It didn’t feel right! It was just another woman who would break his heart. This meaningless relationship continued throughout the summer until the young man met Tom. “That van got a name?” Tom asked. “No”, the young man replied. “Nancy”, said Tom, “seems like a good Mom name to me.” Still, the young man was hesitant. How could he so easily forget his last love and move on so quickly? Yet, there was an underlying attraction to Nancy. Perhaps it was her new name that finally gave her a personality, or the smooth ride she provided with her spacious, curved interior. Slowly, a new love began to take place. Trips to Independence Pass and Durango occurred in the late summer and the young man found himself smitten, especially after Nancy took advantage of her 6th month warranty due to a serious bout of “good ‘ole American car transmission failure”.

Finally realizing her potential, the young man became hooked! Nancy and the young man spent the next several years in the throws of a passionate love affair. Endless forays to Indian Creek, Yosemite Valley, The Needles, the High Sierra, Squamish, Red Rock, Joshua Tree – there was no stopping them! “Nice minivan”, scoffed the naysayers. Yet, the young man welcomed the jabs, because this ugly duckling had a way of converting critics to admirers by the simple act of getting them where they wanted to go with comfort and grace.

As with any relationship, however, it was not without its problems. Often the young man would become frustrated with Nancy’s addiction to shopping. “Another belt replacement?” he would shout at her, “how many belts do you need?” Despite the arguments, the money, and the stress, they always persevered, because Nancy never did let the young man down when it truly mattered. She was always ready to go in the morning, and up late at night when he needed her. She kept him warm in the winter and cold in the summer, but most importantly, she kept him moving!

And so for many years the good always outweighed the bad, until recently when Nancy’s addiction to “new this” and “new that” finally got the best of her. She sought things that just weren’t of this world and the young man could no longer support her endeavors. Her 202,000 miles carried them both to so many beautiful places both near and far, and they probably could have spent many more beautiful moments together – but it wasn’t meant to be. So on this day, February 19th, 2015, this young man asks that we all have a drink to Nancy and help him prepare for a long, painful goodbye. Nancy took him more places and showed him more things than any real woman ever could, and for this, he is grateful. [Sarah McLachlan’s “I Will Remember You” plays softly in the background]

Beautiful, and sad. Thanks for the eulogy.

I feel similarly about my Becky, but am glad she isn't addicted to shopping. When the time comes, I hope to be able to so eloquently mourn her.

So happy I just found this right now. ~Tom

Seems like rolling her off a climbing crag would have been the right ending, setting the legal stuff aside.