CounterPunch Exclusives

CounterPunch Exclusives

Wildlands and the Dance of Life

Stratton in his tent, smiling, in the Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon.

He was alone. He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life. – James Joyce Now I see the secret of making the best persons. It is to grow in the open air, and to eat and sleep with the earth. – Walt Whitman

He was alone. He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life.

Now I see the secret of making the best persons. It is to grow in the open air, and to eat and sleep with the earth.

On April 12th, my son, Stratton Matteson, would have been 29 years old. He died February 24th of this year in a massive avalanche while backcountry snowboarding near Joffree Peak Provincial Park in Southwest British Columbia.

The day he died was perfect, as close to heaven as it could be. He woke up to a golden sunrise on the peaks. He and his buddy dug a pit to examine the snow conditions and concluded it was safe to snowboard. He paused near the summit to photograph the surrounding mountains that disappeared into the distance. He did a near-perfect run down the slope and radioed to his partner to come on down.

View of sunrise on the peaks from the Keith Hut. Photo by Stratton Matteson.

His friend took a couple of turns, and the entire mountainside gave way, and the snow came down on Stratton. He was recording the run on his phone. The phone was damaged in the snowslide, but technicians were able to download the contents.

The perfect morning approaching the top of the peak. Photo by Stratton Matteson.

What we saw in those last moments were dozens of photos he took, from the top of the ridge, mountain upon mountain in every direction. Deep blue sky. And a perfect sheet of snow below. He was no doubt jubilant.

The view from the top of the ridge on the perfect day. Photo by Stratton Matteson.

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