In loving memory of Rufus Miller

I went to the Black Hole today not knowing, and came back saddened that Rufus had an accident. For me, the Black Hole never made sense unless you had someone versed in the ways, to point out the lines and teach you how things went. Rufus was one of those presences that kept on giving out the secrets of the place to anyone who asked. As a result, I for one, came to think of the Black Hole as a totally unique and stellar bouldering experience.

There won’t be a day that I go out there when I don’t think of him there, patiently coaching another climber up the impossible. It wasn’t just that he could float up these crazy problems, but when it was your turn he’d look on with interest and flash that big grin when you sent or didn’t. 

I know he had an amazing life outside the place but I only knew him at this old haunt of his. The climbing community will be sore from this one for a long time. I think the word “legend” is way overused to describe climbers, but Rufus makes the cut in my estimation. Hundreds, no thousands, who were touched by his presence will feel this loss and remember him, and speak of him fondly for his countless contributions (and his power and grace on the rock).