The happy hiker, always shouting “more, more” in my ear while climbing.

Reflections on Independence Lake before the sufferfest began.

This is why my calves feel sore today. 35+ pounds of kiddo and stuff, with 1200′ of climbing straight up the mountainside.

Fall light catching some trailside webs.

Rest-stop overlooking North Lake. Thea discovers the huckleberry motherload!

Getting to be a pretty good hiker on her own now.

Step 1: Harvest huckleberries.

Step 2: Squeal with delight.

Step 3: Eat all of the huckleberries.

Lounging around this morning at camp.

Helping dad with some fishing.

Sunday hike to Big Four Mountain’s Ice Caves. A pretty short hike, but perfect for the day. The caves are sculpted out by water falling from up high on the rock cirque.

Enjoying the cool breezes at the mouth of the caves.

Very cold and wet inside, so this was as far as Thea got, while Lulu and I traded off to explore and take photos.

Closeup of a thin wall between two sections.

Not bad for a quick weekend adventure and first exploration of a new zone!

In the end, it all worked out easily. Thea taste-tested a lot of the rocks, but we kept her out of the firepit and didn’t worry about the dirt. She was a great camper, loved crawling all over the ground, ate with us out in the open, and slept great in the tent. Three days later, we had a camper on our hands, and an exhausted baby that slept really, really soundly Sunday night after all the excitement at the end of the weekend. More adventures to come!

All smiles for a sunny Friday on Puget Sound.

Thea, super happy in her outdoor dining perch.

First night’s sunset over the Strait of Juan de Fuca, with the Olympic Mountains on the left.

Beautiful evening on the trails.

Ready to play in the dirt and taste-test all the rocks.

Pine-fresh baby.

Thea’s buddy Greta.

A delicious spread for breakfast Saturday morning.

Dungeness Spit, sticking 5 miles out into the Strait with a tenuous hold against the seas.

Loving the baby backpack.

Picking up someone’s left-behind frisbee.

Ready to slackline already.

Out on the bluff trails for another sunset.

Happy little explorer, happy dad.

Peaceful in sleep

DanDan gets the first grandparent hold, 1 week in.

Gigi enjoying naptime with Thea.

Babies turn out to be tough photo subjects, even when they’re asleep. Lulu and I catch a lucky break.

Lulu & Thea

Hanging with dad.

Grandpa Jeff meets Thea, 2 weeks in.

Grandma Marty with another nap.

Lulu and the little kangaroo nugget.

Quiet alert at night.

Drying off after her first real bath.

Brushing Thea’s hair and employing the Magic Baby Hold.

One happy mom and her daughter, June 30th.

Instantly hooked.

Weighing in before heading home.

A fair assessment of exhaustion for a couple weeks.

Hanging out with Susan, who helped guide Lulu through an amazing labor and Thea to a great delivery.

It’s heart-breaking, and I can’t believe that he’s gone.

Toby’s helmet brought to the summit of Asahidake by his friends, March 2013.

Lulu and I were lucky enough to meet Toby in Hokkaido when we joined a longtime friend of his on a trip to Japan for skiing in 2011. A Washington native, Toby lived in Hokkaido with his wife, Maiko, and the two of them graciously opened their house to our ragtag group of skiers and boarders. Counting the days, I spent a little over a week in Japan with Toby, and a night visiting here in Seattle. But to meet Toby for an evening was to become a lifelong friend. Before we’d arrived, Toby had planned out half of our adventures to come, and his excitement for our own trip was palpable. In Japan, his hospitality was incredible, sharing with us not only his ski secrets, but teaching us about Japanese culture, talking late into the night, and giving us an experience we couldn’t have dreamed of.

Maiko, Tom, Jason, me, Julia, and Toby (from upper left, clockwise), Higashikawa, February 2011.

I’ve worked in the ski industry for 10 years, and Toby’s enthusiasm for snow and skiing remains unparalleled. Toby was the ultimate powderhound, but instead of drawing that inward and keeping it for himself, Toby wanted to share it all – every part of the experience. And the places he showed us in Japan were magical. In that week, Toby shared his home, his “Deep North” Hokkaido powder snow, his favorite onsen to soak in, his food and drink, and many of his stories. As the week drew down, the rest of the group left for the States. Lulu and I would continue on for another week in Japan, and Toby drove 4.5hrs down to Niseko with us for one more day of skiing, just to show us around his former mountain. After another great day of skiing and before hopping on the bus back home, he swore us to secrecy and gave Lulu and me a hand-drawn map of the mountain, with all of his routes and stashes labeled on it. While Toby shied away from revealing the awesomeness of these mountain places across the anonymity of the internet, in person he wanted nothing more than to share them, and he exuded energy in doing so.

Toby and me, Niseko, February 2011.

Since the trip, constant chatter about adventures filled the last two years. When I sent him gear from our basement, he documented all the deep powder it skied. Toby always seemed to be the first to like or comment on one of our adventures, and late night emails or messages were like catching up with an old friend or current ski partner. He was leaving the school where he taught elementary kids in April this year, to start a coffee roasting/craft brewing business with some small scale lodging for visitors. Hearing that, I can’t help but think of it as a slightly larger extension of the experience staying at Toby’s house (in both camaraderie and quality of beverages).

The time spent with Toby was so short, but his impact was huge. Toby touched so many people — it’s apparent in the incredible outpouring online from friends and family all across Japan and the United States, as well as people who had crossed paths with him on their travels. I can’t imagine the loss felt by friends and family who were so lucky to spend more time with him, and my deepest condolences go out to Toby’s family, in particular.

Toby headed for more powder, Daisetsuzan, February 2011.

I still struggle to process the fact that Toby was taken from all of us, suddenly, and way too soon. Through her tears Friday morning, Lulu asked me why we had to enjoy something so much that can be so dangerous. We’ve spent a lot of time managing risk in the things that we love, working through the joys and the frightening moments, but for the first time, I didn’t really have an answer. Weighing the pain and loss of a friend and feeling that fetal kick inside Lulu’s belly through the morning, the incredible joy I’ve always felt in the mountains suddenly couldn’t be reconciled, not in that moment.

Leading the way to last tracks, Niseko, February 2011.

There is an enormous void in the energy today without Toby, but there is also inspiration reading through the stories and posts that everyone is sharing. There is no easy answer, neither in grief, nor in that balance of risk and reward. It will take a while to resolve. I miss Toby, but I am incredibly happy that I got to know him. Thanks for the adventures, Toby, and I can only hope emulate your energy, enthusiasm, and care in friendship with others.

Last run in Niseko, Toby, Lulu & Graham, February 2011.

Congrats to Hannah and Jamal, and wishing you a long life of health, happiness, and love! We were so happy to be there, and are very proud of you both.

While it’s been a dry start to winter, there was at least enough on the ground and a little new snowfall to make it a white Christmas. With all the family gathered together, the presents overflowed underneath the tree! We were thankful for a great family and all the wonderful and thoughtful gifts that we got and could give to others.

From Christmas classics to our own pleasure reads and new books for Kera, we did a lot of relaxing and reading.

Our niece, Kera, stole the show for most of the Christmas weekend. At 2.5, she has pretty boundless energy, running from room to room and toy to toy. Books, blocks, cooking toys, dolls, tea parties, and her microphone, she goes through it all.

The Kera and Jamal show… complete with Fischer Price Little People, “Dolphin” the doughnut-eating Orca, and Kera on the mic.

Making play cakes and brownies with Grandpa.

Reading new books with Aunt Lulu.

Merry Christmas from the Gephart family (Marty, Jeff, Hannah, Kera, Jamal, Lulu, and Graham)! More photos from Vermont to come soon…