I recently learned of the tragic and untimely death of David and was moved to write my remembrance for all who knew him… those whose lives he touched with his humor and his energy for life.

David was a close high school and college friend in Modesto, California. We were roommates at the University of California at Davis and went on many outdoor adventures together. Two particular trips stand out in my mind which, to me, personified David’s love of adventure, of taking things to the edge, but always knowing what he was doing, being prepared, and succeeding at a challenging endeavor.

It was college spring break of 1969. David and friend Bill Magruder (also from Modesto) came up with the idea of climbing Mt. Shasta. Myself and another friend thought this was a worthy adventure so we agreed to go. We went to the North Face mountaineering store in Berkeley to correctly outfit our expedition. I knew nothing about mountaineering but David and Bill knew exactly what was needed. A few days later we were on our way in my parents’ Chevy van, heading north on Highway 5. The sun was shining on a warm April day when we left Davis but by the time we reached Mt. Shasta it was snowing as we had driven right into a spring snowstorm in the area. David and Bill told me to drive up to the ski resort at 7,500 feet on the mountain because they wanted to sleep in the snow overnight. I thought they were out of their minds… all I wanted was a dry, warm bed at that time. However, they were serious and wanted to practice sleeping in that weather in preparation for our climb the next day. By the time we reached the ski resort it was literally a whiteout… a real blizzard. I pulled over to the side of the road and they jumped out of the side doors of the van. The last sight I had of them that late afternoon was David and Bill burrowing into the deep snow in a blizzard. They slept overnight in the snow cave they had made right there.

Myself and the other climber went down below snow level and camped by the road that night.

The next morning dawned clear, cold, and beautiful --- the typical gorgeous mountain weather after a snowstorm has moved through. We drove up the mountain to the ski resort parking lot and there was David and Bill happily awaiting us after their night in the snow.

We parked the van and put on all of our mountain-climbing equipment: heavy climbing boots, backpacks, ice axes, parkas, and the round mountaineering dark sunglasses to complete it all.

We started off from the ski resort… about 7,500 feet in elevation. The summit of Mt. Shasta is 14,179 feet. We had more than a vertical mile of climbing to do. Part of the plan was to spend the night on the mountain in a snow cave and make a push for the summit the next day. At about 11,000 feet elevation I was completely spent and every step was like moving a ton of lead uphill. David and Bill were still fresh and pushing onward an upward --- excited to be on this beautiful mountain on a crystal clear day. I realized at that point that I had no business being up there… I was completely out of shape and really had no desire to spend the night in a snow cave at 13,000 feet. I told David that I was turning back. Our other friend did the same.

We agreed that I would pick them up at the ski resort late the next afternoon. I went back down the mountain and stayed in a motel… happy for a real bed in a warm room. The other climber had me drop him off at a freeway on-ramp and he hitchhiked all the way back to Berkeley, where he lived. David and Bill pushed on with solid determination to climb that mountain.

The next afternoon I was parked in the ski resort parking lot with my binoculars watching for a sign of them. I was nervous about their safety because I knew that a night on that mountain, with the temperatures dropping to the teens or lower, could mean trouble unless they dug a good snow cave for shelter. Happily I spotted David and Bill coming down the mountain towards me. As I watched them approach I saw that David had icicles hanging from his moustache and beard --- his brown hair sticking out every which way from his wool cap. His face was quite sunburned and he appeared practically exhausted… but he had the biggest grin on his face knowing that he had conquered that mountain (the 2nd highest in California) and was back down safely. He told me he and Bill had indeed dug a comfortable snow cave and spent the night on the side of the mountain in it, then made the summit where the wind was literally howling and threatening to blow them right off the mountain. I was extremely proud of David, and Bill for having the courage and physical stamina it took to pull off that climb.

The second trip was of a different nature, but still involved leaving from our apartment in Davis, Ca. in spring weather. David came up with the idea of hopping a freight train from Davis to Eugene, Oregon. I agreed and the plan was set. We boarded a northbound freight loaded with automobiles at midnight as it stopped just behind our apartment.

We climbed in the back of a pickup truck and stretched out to sleep for the night. We had our mountaineering down sleeping bags and parkas, thinking we wouldn’t really need these, as the weather was just beautiful when we boarded the freight north.

We slept through the night as the train rumbled on. We awoke in the morning just south of the Oregon border and Klamath Falls. It was snowing! We couldn’t believe it. It had a been a warm spring night when we started and now we were in the bed of a pickup truck on a freight train in a snow storm! We just zipped up our parkas and watch the beautiful northern California countryside slip by as we sped northward. The further north we went the harder it snowed. We started to get worried about being exposed to the bad weather, when suddenly our train slowed and stopped. We had no idea where we were. We were literally in the middle of nowhere in a beautiful forest with the snow coming down hard. Then we saw another train coming toward us, southbound on a parallel track. We quickly pow-wowed and decided to get off our train and hop that one heading south… back to the sun! So we threw our gear overboard and jumped off our train. However, before we had a chance to board the southbound freight it picked up speed and was quickly moving too fast to jump. Our train then suddenly started up and quickly moved on… leaving us standing in the middle of this snowstorm! We were now quite concerned because we had no idea where we were at the time. The storm looked like it still had a lot more punch to deliver and the snow was piling up quickly at our feet.

However, we looked northward and to our immense relief we saw a small railroad way station about 100 yards up the tracks. We quickly hiked to it and went inside. The railroad men were tremendously friendly and were quite amused to hear our story of how we had gotten stranded. They told us where we were (miles from nowhere) and that there was another train northbound due shortly, which would take us all the way to Eugene. These helpful men had no problem with us hopping their trains and even told us to duck down when we came to the big Klamath Falls train yard where there were railroad “bulls” (railroad police) who watched the trains for riders and arrested them. They also saw the long hair that both David and I sported and had the kindness to warn us that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to wander around Eugene once we got there… there had recently been some campus riots at the University of Oregon and the police were not taking kindly to college age kids with long hair.

Shortly up the track came the northbound train carrying automobiles, and as David and I waited for it we saw with dismay that there were no pickup trucks on that train… only cars! We had no choice but to jump on board and there we sat --- on the hood of a Chevy Camaro in a blizzard, headed for the mountain pass in the Cascade Mountains of Oregon. The further north we went the thicker the snow fell. Fortunately for us the train wound its way slowly up through the mountains to the pass, but still we were freezing even with our down parkas on. There we sat, leaning back on the front of that Camaro just hoping it would stop snowing soon. It did stop snowing soon… because the snow turned to rain once we came down the other side of the pass! This was worse than snow because we were now really getting soaked.

As the train wound its way down the mountain we spied an open boxcar further back. We hopped off with our gear and ran back to the boxcar, climbing inside. There was a hobo inside but he left us alone and stayed to his end of the boxcar. We were thankful for the railroad men’s advice when we got to the Klamath Falls train yard where we moved into a corner of the boxcar to avoid the eyes of the “bulls” as they scanned boxcars going by.

When we arrived in Eugene it was almost dark. By this time David was developing a cold and a fever from the exposure to the weather. With the news we’d been given about the unrest in the town we decided we’d be best off just to jump the next train south and ride directly back to Davis. We hopped the next freight southbound and two very exhausted college kids --- with their expensive down parkas and bags --- fell into a deep sleep on top of some cardboard in the boxcar --- eyed by an envious hobo who occupied the other end. Fortunately for us the hobo didn’t have any desire to harm us as we slept deeply all through the night.

The next morning we awoke to one of the most glorious mountain mornings I’ve ever seen.We were stopped north of Mt. Shasta in the high desert of Modoc County. The sun was shining with not a cloud in the sky. The sun was warm and Mt. Shasta glistened in the sun with its new mantle of snow. It felt like spring time again and we hopped off to stretch. We jumped back on as the train started rolling and David and I sat in the open doorway with our legs dangling down as the train rolled through that beautiful country. The hobo had left during the night and we had an empty boxcar with a ringside, springtime seat to some of the most beautiful area of California. We rolled through Dunsmuir, then past Lake Shasta and down into the Sacramento Valley. David and I felt completely free and completely wonderful. His cold had virtually vanished during his sleep and we enjoyed the scenery. We hopped off the train as it rolled past our apartment in Davis, ending a trip I will always remember with a great friend.

As I wrote these remembrances I recaptured the images of David… his long brown hair blowing in the wind; that impish smile of his; and his absolute “devil-may-care” attitude that so endeared me to him. David’s love of adventure and his cavalier attitude led me to take on things I would never have dreamt of doing on my own (like wall climbing in Yosemite Valley or riding the rapids of the Tuolumne River below Hetch Hetchy dam). My life is the better for his having lived and I thank him for that.

I wish you well, David my friend, and I will always remember you fondly.

Your friend,
Dennis Negley
San Rafael, Ca