honey

I harvested honey this weekend. It was the first time I harvested honey without Jeff. But I feel like he was there with me, joking with me by blowing leaves into the honey every few minutes. It was bittersweet for sure. But definitely the least messy harvest I have ever done! I got quite a laugh out of that- I always thought it had to be messy, that's just how it goes. Now I think that was just a fact of harvesting with Jeff- cleaning up my kitchen for a week afterward.
I miss him and think of him often......
Thank you Jeff for everything, including the messes we used to make with honey.

Jeff Maurer

hi my name is jo-lynne and i was the one climbing with jeff when he died. i am sorry i did not write earlier. things have been hard, and the last thing i wanted to do was sit in front of a computer. i also wish i had talked at the memorial, but i didn't get up the nerve until the end when pete ended it. so here i am now.
i wrote a short bit for supertopo yesterday and then i have a bit more for you all.
here it is...
it has been almost two months since jeff's death and i still am processing it.
i should have told the story weeks ago, but where would i begin?
there are so many details that are important to me...it feels like the story could go on forever.
i don't really want to sit in front of this computer on a beautiful day, so i will make it short.
it was super windy that day, and we talked of not climbing, but the wind was out of the west, and once we dropped below the plateau we were protected, and decided to go on.
there was a party just starting at the base of the climb as we came down the decent. at the base of the third pillar to the right of the regular start, jeff eyed some cracks that looked pretty. we debated climbing them and looked at our topos and hastily thought it was the crack system for linticular limbo. we debated climbing this route...only one star, only slightly harder. we thought that there would be two more parties coming down to climb, and didn't really want to be in the middle of a bunch of people.
jeff was chomping at the bit to climb, and i grabbed a flat rock at the base and flipped it to just make a quick and clear decision.
jeff started climbing and about 40 feet up, maybe more, the crack split. one direction was a steep crack to the left that jeff felt must be hard 5.10, the other direction was a lower angle slab with a thinner seam.
we both took out our topos at this point and realized we had misread them in our haste and we were not on linticular limbo. at this point i really wanted jeff to come down, the second for the other party was leaving the base and i really don't like climbing into the unknown, but i didn't say anything. jeff felt like the lower angle slab climbing wasn't bad and headed out in that direction. he told me to inform him at half rope, and he would make a decision then.
soon after this i saw rocks coming down. at the time i thought that they were rocks that jeff knocked off. i think i stepped to the side out of the rockfall zone, and could no longer see jeff. soon after jeff said something. my memory has created it to be "woah", and i felt the rope go slack. i felt two pieces pop, and watched the last 7 feet of the fall to the ground as a blur. i expected jeff to pop up and say "holy shit". he was unconscious, i yelled for help, and i really can't write anymore about that part at this time.
as the weeks pass i am still unlocking pieces of the puzzle. i do not know why they are important to me, nothing can reverse jeff's death, and that is all i want.
i guess the thing i realized was that none of the entries mentioned rockfall. it could have been from the top of the route, or something that jeff knocked loose while he was climbing, but jeff was having no problems with the climbing, and did not expect to fall.
the two pieces that pulled were a trango 1" piece (similar to a .5 bd) and a metoulious purple 0. he had three other pieces in the crack, a metoulious yellow 2, bd .75, bd .4.
from looking at the rope i am guessing jeff was ~70 feet up. i keep on trying to look at what distances are, and i realize that in the mountains space is hard to judge. i am guessing this distance based on where there was blood on my end of the rope, and loosely measuring that. i don't really remember getting over to him and if i had to let out rope to do that.
as all hallows eve approaches thoughts of the dead are closer.
if anyone has any questions or thoughts feel free to contact me. i've got to go.
jo-lynne
the preceding is what i posted on supertopos.
for all of you who knew and loved jeff, i feel i need to give a few more details.
jeff was wearing a classic dark blue wool shirt.
the place were we were was incredibly beautiful. a striking granite prow above. an amazing view of mono lake.
jeff and i have an equal stubbornness about cell phones and neither of us had one. the other party there, joe and cathy from alaska, said that they usually brought their phone on climbs, but did not bring it that day. regardless the party at the top had a cell phone, but could not get reception. i was grateful that our stubbornness was not what kept us from getting help sooner. i was also grateful i was not trying to mess with technology and having to break the news to people sitting on a cell phone in the mountains.
the last thing jeff ate was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the trail heading up to the plateau.
as we descended the ridge down to the base of the climb jeff dropped his beanie.
he told me "i casually put my beanie in my pocket as we were coming down here, do you mind if i go look for it?" or something like that...he definitely said casually...
i stood at the base of the route watching as he energetically hopped through the talus, and eventually held the gray beanie up triumphantly.
jeff had intended to climb this route five years previously with our friend eliza. it was too windy that day and they turned around.
jeff and i were supposed to leave at 6:45 that morning to head out to the climb. jeff was racing around and 20 minutes late. for some reason this pissed me off more than it normally would. it did mean in the end that we had to pass two parties on the trail, which i am not overly fond of. we also were then behind the alaskans. weeks later my friend paul mentioned that jeff's watch alarm went off at 6:35. i can't help but to be a little annoyed that he thought that he could get ready in 10 minutes!!! if jeff had only been on time maybe the accident wouldn't have happened at all. i am still a little pissed.
walking up the plateau i mentioned it was my mom's and my favorite great aunt josephine's birthday. aunt jo died a few years ago at the age of 95. jeff mentioned that it would be nice to live that long and have all of those amazing memories. i think that jeff's life was filled with amazing memories.
the day before jeff and i hung out at the paradise pools on the dana fork of the tuolumne in the afternoon. jeff had wanted to meet at 3:00 to go climbing, but i was tired. i had just climbed six days in a row and knew that the third pillar would be worth resting for. so we went to the river and stretched and talked. jeff told me that he had had a great day on friday. he had gone bouldering, ran up the lyle fork (he hadn't been running much with all the hiking he did for work), played ultimate, and went to the pirate party the youngsters on his crew had thrown.
jeff was one of the first people i saw when i got to tuolumne this summer. i had driven in late in the night, and woke up early excited to be there. the only person i saw up was parker and audrey and i went over to their cabin to say hello. jeff was soon there and he referred to us as the homeless people and we both swooped in to make some tea. jeff and i hung out that day for a little bit in the late morning at the paradise pools. i had just returned from taking care of my dad as he recovered from hip surgery, and had cared for my mom the fall before when she had crushed her vertebrae. jeff shared with me stories about caring for his dad this winter. it was nice to be able to connect with someone else who had been there. jeff stayed at the pools to stretch and i ran off to climb.
jeff and i had made "tentative" (his words he used later) climbing plans a few weeks before, but he never showed up since he hung out with kristen instead. i gave him shit, but i didn't mind. although we had talked about going climbing since the first time i met him, august 30th was the first time we ever went out together.
the first bird to come to the accident was a clark's nutcracker. they squawked around all day long.
jeff climbed beautifully that day. he made the terrain look easy. i do not know exactly what happened, but he never made any noise of fear. there was no screaming. i am guessing he was either knocked unconscious by falling rock and that is why he fell, or he broke off holds and hit his head on the way down. i say this because i have never fallen or seen anyone else fall without screaming.
because we were outside of the park, the rescue was in the mono county sheriff's district. because of the wind they were unable to get a helicopter to the site. i am guessing that jeff fell at 10:00-10:15, and the sheriff's department was informed by 12:00. i decided to leave jeff at 6:00-6:30. at the time this was difficult for me, but the next day i remembered him talking about how he disliked it when people wanted to eat dinner before dark, how he always wanted to be outside until the true end of the day.
the rescuers were unable to get down to jeff until the next morning and i like to think of jeff enjoying one more night under the stars.
predawn on the morning of the 31st i had been up most of the night, my mind swimming with images from the day before. "please" i asked, "just give me another image." there in my head popped jeff with big wings, looking back at them he said "check these things out!" and off he went running, presumably to learn to fly. in the days and weeks that followed when things are rough i conjure this image.
i have felt guilty for every little thing i said or did wrong that day, and am grateful at least that jeff was the one who approached me about climbing, and insisted on that route. the night before the climb i had my doubts about climbing, but i could not put my finger on what it was. a few weeks ago i was writing about all of the things i could have done that day, but in the end i could not imagine myself saying no to climbing a beautiful route in an amazing alpine setting, with jeff maurer an amazing human being.
that is all i have for now. if anyone has anymore questions i am ready to try to answer them, but i will say i don't get on the computer so often.
peace,
jo-lynne
mininomad@gmail.com

Thank you from Jeff's family

On behalf of Jeff's family I want to thank everyone who came to Mono Lake to celebrate his life. It was very meaningful for all of us, especially our parents, to see that Jeff had touched so many people. The stories that were shared, the music, the good food, and the companionship were exactly what we had hoped for, and I know Jeff would have enjoyed it as well. I only wish that I had been able to talk with each one of you directly, to hear some funny anecdote from one of his many adventures, or to learn again how his spirit of learning, giving, and having fun while doing everything made a difference to someone.

Thanks also to the folks in Davis who I had the pleasure to meet last Friday at N Street. More wonderful stories and memories to share. As I said at the celebration, he will be missed by many. But I know that the things that he worked so hard for will live on in everyone who knew him. For those who were unable to join us, below is the Hopi prayer that was printed on the back of the program. Every time I read it I know that his spirit lives on.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there
I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond's glint on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn's rain
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there
I did not die

Peter Maurer & the Maurer Family

Meditation Upon Death

THANATOPSIS

William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)

To him who in the love of Nature holds

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks

A various language; for his gayer hours

She has a voice of gladness, and a smile

And eloquence of beauty, and she glides

Into his darker musings, with a mild

And healing sympathy, that steals away

Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts

Of the last bitter hour come like a blight

Over thy spirit, and sad images

Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,

And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,

Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart;--

Go forth, under the open sky, and list

To Nature's teachings, while from all around--

Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--

Comes a still voice--Yet a few days, and thee

The all-beholding sun shall see no more

In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,

Where thy pale form was laid with many tears,

Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist

Thy image. Earth, that nourish'd thee, shall claim

Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,

And, lost each human trace, surrendering up

Thine individual being, shalt thou go

To mix for ever with the elements,

To be a brother to the insensible rock,

And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain

Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak

Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.

Yet not to thine eternal resting-place

Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish

Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down

With patriarchs of the infant world--with kings,

The powerful of the earth--the wise, the good,

Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,

All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills

Rock-ribb'd and ancient as the sun,--the vales

Stretching in pensive quietness between;

The venerable woods; rivers that move

In majesty, and the complaining brooks

That make the meadows green; and, pour'd round all,

Old Ocean's grey and melancholy waste,--

Are but the solemn decorations all

Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,

The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,

Are shining on the sad abodes of death,

Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread

The globe are but a handful to the tribes

That slumber in its bosom.--Take the wings

Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,

Or lose thyself in the continuous woods

Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound

Save his own dashings--yet the dead are there:

And millions in those solitudes, since first

The flight of years began, have laid them down

In their last sleep--the dead reign there alone.

So shalt thou rest: and what if thou withdraw

In silence from the living, and no friend

Take note of thy departure? All that breathe

Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh

When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care

Plod on, and each one as before will chase

His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave

Their mirth and their employments, and shall come

And make their bed with thee. As the long train

Of ages glides away, the sons of men,

The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes

In the full strength of years, matron and maid,

The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man--

Shall one by one be gathered to thy side

By those who in their turn shall follow them.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join

The innumerable caravan which moves

To that mysterious realm where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

Scourged by his dungeon; but, sustain'd and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

"Thanatopsis" is reprinted from Yale Book of American Verse. Ed. Thomas R. Lounsbury. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1912.

I feel like this elegy reflects the way that Jeff lived his life and reminds us that we must live our lives to the fullest. I hope to read it tomorrow at the gathering in Davis. Tree Kilpatrick.

Memorial for Jeff in Davis

Hi friends of Jeff Maurer,

Please help spread the word that N Street is hosting a memorial for Jeff this Friday night, Oct., 2 at 7 pm in Davis at the N Street Co-housing Community (716 N Street, Davis, CA). Everyone is welcome and we need your help to spread the word to Jeff's circle of friends in the region, especially those who weren't able to make the Mono Lake event.
The event will be pretty ad hoc, but there will be time for sharing memories at 7 pm. We will hang out afterwards, eating and enjoying company as we remember Jeff in a less formal process.Thank you for spreading the word. We look forward to seeing you then.

Kevin Wolf
(530)758-4211

You're Secret's Safe with Me

All,

I first met Jeff in 1994, as a young field biologist in the Goshute Mountains of Nevada.  The following summer, he hired me to study peregrines and goshawks with him in Yosemite.  It was an unforgettable summer.  Some of my most powerful memories are of Jeff showing me the magical spots that he had found during his time in the park – old red fir stands, flower covered meadows, amazing vantage points, and skinny dipping holes.  I remember the excitement in his eyes as he’d look back over his shoulder and tell me that we were almost there.  He was frequently looking over his shoulder at me – he glided through the forest, and I often found myself really pushing to keep up with him.  I doubt I’ll ever be that strong again. 

I managed to write and record a song this weekend in honor of Jeff and the experiences we shared.  Hope you enjoy it.

http://entomology.wisc.edu/~tdmeehan/song.mp3

Tim Meehan

Your Secret’s Safe with Me

By Tim Meehan for Jeff Maurer

Lead me by the hand

Lead me by the hand

Into a magic land

Walking side by side

Stretch to match your stride

Eyes are open wide

Chorus:  Big broad smile

You knew it all the while

A meadow in full bloom

Bringing me to see

Where you go to be free

Your secret’s safe with me

A silent peaceful place

A silent peaceful place

I find in your embrace

Cool water from the spring

The thrush and sparrow sing

A goshawk on the wing

Chorus

Stare up through the trees

Through the red fir trees

Towering over you and me

Listen to the wind

Listen to the wind

The whisper of a friend

Chorus

Last weekend I attended Jeff Maurer’s memorial overlooking Mono Lake on the east side of the Sierra. 

I wondered why I felt so compelled to be there for a person I knew more as an acquaintance than a friend.  How could there be such a strong connection?  Clearly, any of the 200 people that were there could answer that question.  You only had to meet Jeff once to feel it.  His love for living was simply contagious. 

Though I knew Jeff climbed and we had even talked of doing some climbing together, I always thought of him as a conservationist.  When I heard that Jeff died climbing it was difficult to accept and understand.  But, not really.  The history of climbing and the protection of wild places are closely linked.

John Muir trekked the Sierra ascending many of its peaks and later David Brower made first ascents in Yosemite Valley and on Sierra peaks.  Margaret Farquer was the first president of the Sierra Nevada Section of the American Alpine Club.  And, more recently Yvon Chouinard, Doug Tomkins, Royal Robbins and Galen Rowell acted to protect our remaining wilderness heritage.

Climbing demands and develops focus, drive and determination. It imbues a love and deep understanding of our wild places.  It is precisely these attributes that have contributed to the success of the wilderness movement and that tradition continues.

Jeff was certainly a part of that and I love him for it. 

My deepest sympathies to his family and all of his friends.

Bob Schneider

Thank You

I just wanted to thank everyone that was involved with Jeff's memorial service at Mono Lake. It was truly a beautiful service, and the love and energy there for Jeff was incredibly present and evident. The myriad stories, songs, and poetry were so moving and heartfelt, thank you so much everyone for sharing.

Michelle

Memories, memories

It will take some time to accept that Jeff is gone, but these are some precious memories I will hang on to. When I first met him (at a Mono basin Chautauqua), I remember telling him it was like finding an old friend that I'd had all along but didn't know yet. Kinda strange, but we had all these common connections, mutual friends, and experiences, they just hadn't been shared together. In the winter of 2004-05 Jeff came over to live in Lee Vining at the old house of Dave and Sally Gaines, when the Mono Lake Comm was first getting started. Many old memories there too. I came over for dinner and played guitar with Jeff (and Sacha there too), sang some great songs. The keepsake I now have is a song I once knew but had forgotten that he scribbled out with some lyrics on the back of an envelope. Another time he came down and some of us went out to the hot springs in the snow, ended up having an epic snowball fight, laughing with each strike, that went on until our hands hurt from the cold. Later that spring, Jeff came out with us on a trip to the Amargosa River, camping in the desert, and exploring the strange river canyon that flows into Death Valley. It wasn't enough, and I am sad that there were not more of those times of friendship and fun, but happy that I got to know the old friend that I almost missed having. What a good man.

Peace to your soul,

Dave Herbst.

Mono Lake Bird Walk for Jeff Maurer

On Sunday there will be a bird walk by Mono Lake Committee and Forest Service. Friends and peers of Jeff's are invited to meet at 8am at Mono County Park.  I think it would be great for as many of Jeff's feathered friends as possible to join in!!  Dave Marquart will be the birder in charge and many of the Mono birders will attend. Hope to see you all there.

Karen Amstutz

sad to hear about Jeff

I was very sad to hear of Jeff's passing. Although I did not have the privilege of calling Jeff a close friend, I did have the opportunity to interact with him on numerous occasions, including playing Ultimate Frisbee and going on bird walks with him during chautauquas. It is clear to me that he touched many lives including my own. He was unwaveringly warm and friendly and great at infecting those around him with his interest in the natural world. I am saddened that I will not have the opportunity to interact with him or get to know him further. However, I am glad that in the wake of his passing, I can bear witness to the impact he has had on so many people and am assured that he made the most of his life as long as it lasted.

Jeff in Mexico

Photo taken during the project Jeff Veracruz River of Raptors in the 1999 season, I'm the one next door.
It was a pleasure to meet such excellent person, conveying joy for life, always remember it fondly.
Hugo Corzo

In remembrance of Jeff Maurer

Jeff Maurer was one of my first teachers at UC Davis and I can think of no better professor to experience as an incoming freshman. He taught my intro to Avian Sciences class. His class was by far my favorite class my first quarter at Davis. He sparked an enthusiasm in me that no other teacher could. His talks were fascinating and he was so knowledgeable. After that first quarter, I knew I had made the right choice of majoring in Avian Sciences. Later in my educational career at Davis, I had the opportunity to take another class with Jeff and I made sure it worked with my schedule. Although I only took two classes from him, Jeff was by far my favorite teacher at Davis. His passion for his work was second to none and he was a fantastic lecturer. I wish I had the opportunity to have a more personal relationship with Jeff. I'll always remember his smile. Thank you Jeff for solidifying my passion in birds. You're one in a million.

-Jon Vento
UC Davis Alumnus '09
B.S. Avian Sciences

Addresses

Given the outpouring of love on this blog, there surely will be a big turnout for the memorial celebration. May it be a spectacular eastern Sierra day with a beautiful sky and singing birds! Just passing along a few addresses for condolences, if you have some words to share and would rather not post them here, or if you can't make the memorial.

The Maurer family
c/o Peter Maurer
3460 Coon Hollow Rd
Placerville, CA 95667

Jeff's partner:
Kristin Ramsey
PO Box 282
El Portal, CA 95318

Memorial Celebration

Please join Jeff's family and friends in a memorial celebration Sunday, September 20, 2009 at the Mono Lake County Park in Lee Vining, beginning at 1:30pm

Jeff always loved a good gathering! Bring your stories and memories to share, and special Jeff mementos (pictures, poems, items) to display. He also enjoyed good food, so there will be a picnic on the grass or under the shade of the cottonwoods afterwards followed by some good socializing and play. Some food and drink will be provided, but if you are able, please bring a potluck dish, dessert, or bounty from the garden to share. Feel free to bring beer and wine if you’d like. Don’t forget musical instruments, binoculars, Frisbees and other toys. In keeping with his desire to make the smallest footprint, carpool if you can, bring your own table service if possible, along with blankets and lawn chairs. For further information, contact Peter Maurer at pnmaurer@live.com

Many people have asked about making a donation in Jeff’s name to one of the many organizations he championed. A special fund to continue his work with peregrine falcons has been established by the Yosemite Fund. Other groups include Yosemite Institute, Yosemite Association, Yosemite Fund, Mono Lake Committee, Peregrine Fund, and Point Reyes Bird Observatory. He also was active in the peace movement and supporting sustainable agriculture.

In Memory

I worked with Jeff on the Tuolumne River doing various surveys and it didn't take long to realize that he was one of those rare people who brought positve energy into every situation. When I heard of Jeff's accident, I was preparing for some work down in Poopenaut Valley... the very place I worked with Jeff just weeks ago. All day my thoughts of Jeff reminded me of the vast knowledge he had across so many disciplines, his love of life, and his bubbling, contagious, enthusiastic, positive personality.

On the hike up the hill out of Poopenaut, I felt the occaisional breeze of air move past me. I know it was Jeff passing me just like he did on every other hike we shared. What Jeff did for all living creatures, the work he started, and all who know him will agree that he will never be far from us.

Soar on Jeff. I will remember you on the wing beat of the bird, the buzz of the bee, the plop of the frog onto the water, the dancing figures on a Strawberry night and so many other memories.

Peace Brother,

Mike Horvath

a dream of Jeff

This may be a little more personal than I would normally post, but all of your stories have been so touching... and this dream was so beautiful I think it will help to share.

This past 11 months has brought some of the highest and lowest point of my life- my wedding, the unexpected death of my sister, my pregnancy, and now the death of my dear friend Jeff. Since my sister Alissa left us, I have often hoped for a dream in which I could connect with her. She has not yet been ready to see me, and I will wait for the time to come.

Monday night, I feel blessed to have been with Jeff. In my dream I was told that I could go see Jeff for a moment. I had many obstacles to overcome before I was able to find him, though now I can't recall what they all were. When I finally reached him, we sat in a dark and cozy little room together, talking and laughing. I told him about my job, the baby- things I had not yet had a chance to tell him about in life. I asked him questions about the day he left us, and he told me about how he had felt up on that rock. I told him I loved him, that I felt like I knew him forever, that he was a true, beautiful friend. I wanted to make sure he knew, but he told me he already did. Then it was time for him to leave me. We stood and hugged, and suddenly I was outside and he was the wind blowing through the trees.

I woke from the dream and began to sob, thankful for that moment with him, and for the beauty of that last image of Jeff becoming the wind.

laughing man

Jeff-

the beautiful Sycamore tree that has taught us all so much!

smiles and love and laugher and fun that you have brought to all our lives!

in the sierra on the mountain tops above the waterfalls on the cliffs soaring and singing loving and dancing... wherever I am you are tooo in my heart in my memories ....

my best teacher your words will be with me....

love amber

Celebrating Jeff!

It’s official that we’ll be celebrating Jeff’s outstanding life on the afternoon of Sunday 20 September, at the Mono County Park on the northeast shore of Mono Lake, north of Lee Vining.  (2:00 p.m., I believe)  Jeff’s brother Pete will start distributing a detailed invitation soon.

Hope to see you there!

-Pete Devine

From Jesus-David on 9/8/09

I'm so sad LB... I cannot believe this. I remember Jeff, mi amigo Mauer-Gómez, who taught me many things about life... things that I forget in the daily chaos of life despite I always remember him and refuse to think of him as gone. He's still in the Sierras where he found such a lovely paradise in the life he always loved. I was so happy to know he was well last time I was in Davis, and now I feel I missed my chance to visit him and see him again. Jeff gave me many gifts, without waiting for a birthday, he took me to pick up olives (the ultimate experience for an Andalusian like me, and something I never did in Spain!) he made salsa "pañales" excellent mermelade and many delicious breakfast with such a great sense of humor that I was never lonely while sharing that house with you and him.  Always inviting to chat and discuss life reflecting about marvelous "simple", but how important, experiences with nature and friends. Biking through town he will spot a hawk and open a new  world for you, always sharing and never showing off. And Jeff played the piano so many nights... generously and gracefully expecting nothing in exchange, like his friendship was. I can hear that music now...he even let me played the trumped with him not caring much for my poor and non-existent musical hear.  Last time we played soccer together in Davis, years ago now, we came across each other unexpectedly in this huge pick up game and stopping for a moment we hugged forgetting about the game. It was so long since I last saw him then, and it is more now.  Jeff was a man from another time, a relic of a renaissance and enlightment man with a passion for nature and friends. Excellent botanist and biologist, a musical man, and above all a true friend.  I miss him, but one day I'll visit him in Yosemite like I always wanted to do.

David

Naked Skiing on Pothole Dome

I met Jeff as a housemate in El Portal’s Hotel. Upstairs at the end of the hall. He was rarely there and had a lot of nature stuffed into that room. It was years later that I returned (subbing for Y.I.?) in the spring looking for someone to do a ski adventure with. We ended up heading toward Tuolumne Meadows, and after a night waiting for the shaky slabs to freeze, (and let us pass) we arrived in the meadow. Awesome weather, and Jeff would be off at the crack of dawn skate skiing to Cathedral and back before the snow softened too much and then joining more folks to make some Teleturns on  Pothole Dome, (what fun with the low leather boots and 200cm skiis).  As the day got warmer folks started ditching clothes and it wasn’t long before joyful turns were had in full Sierra sun. Jeff ‘s endless energy and smiles to go with it always made for an awesome adventure. Jeff got to share his connection to the natural world with so many. I feel blessed to have been one of them.

Kim Dunkley
Johnson, VT

The Sweet Honey Man

I spent most of Labor day clearing old lumber & debris from our yard, preparing a good space for bee-hives. Jeff was the man, years ago, who first sparked my interest in bee-keeping.

I first met him, and his rusty family-heirloom "blue" VW bug, working together at Yosemite Institute. Since then we have frolicked in the high country, shared many a pot-luck, danced wild and barefoot, and played Ultimate in unusual locations. Jeff was such a summer fixture in Tuolumne Meadows. Always enthusiastically engrossed in a frog study or goshawk project… Always willing to field endless questions about his work… Always showing up with huge hugs and joyful laughter. It is hard for me to imagine summers in Tuolumne without Jeff popping by our tent cabin, arriving serendipitously at the same swimming hole, or laughing around the campfire.

Most recently I was excited to haul gear for Jeff into one of his backcountry frog study sites. It was a blast to spend a day with him and his crew in the wilderness, hauling huge solar panels, elecrto-zappers, and other strange supplies. The hike-in was billed as “just a few miles… just a morning hop over the saddle, down to the lake and back”

The description was probably accurate, if you were Jeff Maurer. That man could move over granite like no other! But with a large group, hauling unusual chunks, we took most of the day. At the more-distant-than-expected lake we were rewarded with heartfelt thanks, big hugs, and a few of his legendary home-made “solar frog bars” for the hike back out. I was sad to leave….

Over the years Jeff would show up at our El Portal home, precisely at dinner time, with his glowing smile, sparkling laughing eyes, and a quart or 2 of golden honey in his hands… Over milky cups of chai, drizzled with the gift of honey from his bees, we discussed queens, extraction, honeycombs, head nets, and swarming behavior (…as well as peregrines, granite, Thai curries, Frisbee, Owl hooting, frogs, etc., etc.) I’ve been wanting to work with bees forever, and always knew that Jeff would be my local mentor. But with teaching, house projects, and family adventures, “beekeeping” never made it to the top of my to-do list. Now Jeff is gone, and among the confusing whirlpool of emotions, I feel both angry and distraught… angry at myself for procrastinating all these years, and so deeply saddened that I won’t be learning and sharing the bee-keeping art with him. But I also feel inspired. Inspired by Jeff’s spirit to finally make it happen! Inspired to stay connected to him through one of his passions, bee-keeping. I’m researching electric fences (bears visit us regularly), working with a Foresta beekeeper friend, and hoping to follow soon in Jeff’s footsteps. Every harvest from our hives will rekindle memories of Jeff Maurer, the sweet honey man. I look forward to tasting that sweetness!

Jeff Memories

Jeff…

Words are limiting at times like these. Seeing him here in pictures has sparked some. I knew Jeff for a long while on the periphery. We worked and socialized in the same circles. I came to Yosemite in 1999 and it seems like Jeff has always been there. I began hearing about him from mutual friends; friends who had crushes on him, others who admired his recycled life style. He was always revered as someone to go to with questions about birds. Slowly our circles became smaller. Our connection ultimately, birds. I consider him a mentor and friend. I am lucky enough to have been one who received a “Let’s go birding” from Jeff. We spent time at White Wolf bonding with the place. One favorite memory is when Jeff joined our staff campfire circle hangout when he was staying there for owl surveys. I said, “Jeff, I have to show you this feather I found.” I had spent much time wandering off the trails at White Wolf and one day followed a family of fledgling red-shouldered hawks through a wet stringer meadow. As I was watching my steps there right in front of me was a huge wing feather. I saved it for further reflection. Jeff for me was the kind of person I made efforts to glean knowledge from. One of those Yosemite icons I wanted to be around and share my giddiness for nature with. I brought him into my cabin and showed him the feather. He was satisfyingly excited and passionate. “Where did you get this?!” As he examined it he declared it a Great Grey Owl Feather. And then in his brilliant way he declared it a female Great Grey Owl Feather. I was struck with disbelief that he is so capable of knowing that, and soon moved to realizing that he has a magic few fully express.

This past week I have been recalling some memorable moments with Jeff from the Strawberry Music Festival, the Mono Lake Chautauqua and Yosemite. Too many to mention here. I have hugged my friends more. His passing is a sad reminder that life is so very ephemeral. My thoughts and hugs go out to his closest friends and family. Whenever I hang out in Upper Horse Meadow (which I do a lot thanks to Jeff), go birding, see an old blue Subaru or spend time with our mutual friends his spirit will be there. Yosemite and the Sierra has lost a unique and necessary advocate. His magic will be missed. When there is a memorial, I will be wearing a plaid button down shirt in his honor.

Kestrel

From Denise on 9/8/09

I worked as one of Jeff's crew members last summer. I have some photos that I would love to post. At this time I am sort of speechless, but I know that the things that Jeff taught me about the Sierras will have a lasting effect on me everyday. I used to call him Chief Maurer or the Pika Whisperer. Once when we were doing amphibian surveys, I watched him call to and lure a pika out from behind rocks in a talus field. It called back. Then he turned around, smiled, and just shrugged his shoulders like it was just another casual moment in his life. He was truly connected to the land and to the animals, and I know that the Sierras won't be the same without him around to care for, love, learn and teach about them.

I wish his family and friends all the best. 

Sincerely,

Denise DeCarion

 

Jeff

He's the guy you encountered on the Foresta Road with the big smile and a silly stride, always paying attention to the birds.  He's the guy you could count on for amazing honey. He's the guy whose interaction with life always seemed intriguing, inquisitive, and joyful. He's the guy who always showed love and respect for Kristin.  He's the guy you were always happy to see; the last time we spoke he was in Tuolumne with a group of friends climbing on Puppy Dome for a day time bachelor party.  Jeff took the time to chat and ask about my family.  It was a nice little visit and I walked away appreciating his unpretentious way of being.  Jeff spread just enough love around to make us all feel special.

Vicki McMichael

From Roland on 9/7/09

Thanks to everyone for contributing these recollections and thoughts about Jeff. Reading them has helped me find the peace I needed to come to grips with his untimely death. My path first crossed with Jeff's in 2006 when he took a job in Yosemite leading the effort to restore some Park lakes to their original fishless condition to benefit amphibians. As a researcher studying the decline of amphibians in the Park, it was my job to teach Jeff everything I knew about Yosemite's aquatic ecosystems. His intellect, passion, and unusually keen skills as an observer of the natural world struck me right away and we become fast friends. In subsequent months and years we spent many days together in the Yosemite back country, and during those rambles I learned just as much from him about birds and plants as he did about amphibians from me. Since Jeff's death I've been back to some of the places where he and I spent time together during the last three years and have felt again and again the hollowness of knowing that I'll never again see Jeff walking along those lake shores, never again marvel with him at the beauty of this Earth, never again see his wide easy smile.

During my thoughts of Jeff since his death, I keep returning to a couple of powerful and unforgettable lessons he left me with. During the course of our amphibian research we suffered numerous setbacks and often seemed to be working against insurmountable odds. Despite the grim prognosis for the Park's amphibians, Jeff did not let that darkness overwhelm him (as it often did me). Even on days when all hope seemed lost, he always saw the bright side and never lost his ability to smile. In addition, although Jeff was keenly aware of the role that humans were playing in the decline of Yosemite's amphibians and in the destruction of ecosystems worldwide, he never let this reality affect his positive outlook toward humanity. In his company, my tendency toward misanthropy felt totally absurd.

So Jeff, thanks from the bottom of my imperfect heart for showing me how to smile despite the darkness, and the importance of remaining connected to our fellow human beings. In your passing, you've left a hole as big as the mountains you loved so much.

Roland

One road to freedom…

I can feel Jeff surround me as the breeze gusts by beyond Donner Summit and onto the next being that acknowledges it. I miss him so much. I haven't lost a friend for a little while now, and this has been a shocking reminder of how tenuous life is. Without a doubt, life slips by. The events and moments that shape us and those that seem to have no consequence at all form what we look back on as "my life."

At first I was in shock and ready to sell my gear and change my life. I thought, why take risks? Climbing seemed like a dumb idea, and Jeff's passing made me feel like I didn't ever need to touch a rock wall again. I was climbing when he died, and the wind was blowing strong. I distinctly remember a gust that was nearly tugging me off an arete just above a large roof. I thought, "Jesus, I'm going to blow right into oblivion." Had I only known the story that the wind was carrying that day.

But would I have done anything different? Would Jeff have? Well, I probably would have cried myself right off that wall. But honestly I don't think I really would have done much different and I don't think Jeff would have either. All of our stories tell of the rich and full life that Jeff lived. Of the love and happiness that surrounded him, that surrounds us all. We shall never forget, but we have to keep on living. If Jeff wanted us to learn anything from this tragic loss, I am absolutely certain that it would be to live life freely, and to its fullest. To stop and recognize each moment as they pass. To feel the breeze in our hair, and the sun on our faces.

We are blessed for having known our dear friend. And we are lucky. We have another day to live the life that we choose. To be free. I hope that through this we all embrace life, the happiness and the sadness. It is bittersweet and beautiful. And it can slip away so fast...

So I've gone back to climbing and have separated my fear from the motions. It's what I do. It's what makes me happy. It's how I remember Jeff.

And the breeze still blows...
Tim Kuhn

I LOVED Jeff "Mallard"

Looking over these fine photos and wonderful Jeff stories tonight... Little Lupin looks over my shoulder, "Ohhh Daddy... Is THAT Jeff Maurer that died? I LOVED him so much! He was so funny and nice with that fuzzy beard and sometimes brought us honey, right?" Yes Lupin, this is that very wonderful Jeff Maurer. "Sylvie likes to call him Jeff Mallard, cuz he's always talkin' about birds, but I just call him Jeff Maurer. Do you think he's really gone?" No honey... He'll never be gone, as long as we keep telling his stories.

Jeff Maurer Memories

I met Jeff while working in Yosemite as a year-long employee. I remember us first meeting during a volleyball game and bonding over beekeeping (I come from a family of beekeepers). Although everyone in El Portal is kind and good-hearted, the atmosphere there is so transient that long-term people tend to be a bit hard to get to know, just because they expect you to move out of the community so quickly. Jeff was certainly not like that. I got the impression, immediately, that he never met a stranger. Everyone he met, he showed love and respect to.

Throughout the eight months I was there, I went to barbecues, dance parties, park events, taco nights, and division meetings with Jeff, and always, ALWAYS tried to strike up a conversation with him. He was really fun and easy to talk to, and just so warm and kind. And funny! And, as a sidenote, I distinctly remember him taking excellent care of his crew members when it came to housing and NPS bureaucracy, which is pretty much the best thing in the world if it's something you're new to.

My dad actually got diagnosed with terminal cancer when I was in Yosemite, which is why I had to leave early. It was, as you'd expect, awful on a lot of levels. I didn't tell very many people until I was leaving, and though most of them had kind words, I remember a conversation or two with Jeff about it in which he really made me feel like life would go on and be all right. My last night, I ran into him while bouldering in Tuolumne Meadows. I've never cared much for bouldering, and was only there because it was the only option I really had at the time, but we had a blast! I remember thinking I was so lucky to see him one more time before I drove back home. He gave me such a big, wonderful hug.

I can't imagine what you're going through. To lose someone who was so full of life so suddenly is terrible. At the same time, look for the signs. He will make sure you see him. I got the impression he wanted to stay in the Sierra for a few karmic cycles, and it seems really possible that before he starts a new one, he's going to fly as free as he can through the mountains, spreading love everywhere he goes.

Much much love,
A friend

From Steve Thompson 9/4/09

Thank you to all of Jeff’s Davis friends who have shared their touching memories of him, and have established this blog in his large memory.

I was Jeff’s “supervisor” as a biologist for Yosemite National Park. I put supervisor in quotes, because Jeff was so committed to the wildlife of Yosemite, that I had a hard time keeping up with him, and he needed very little oversight in completing the task of restoration of habitat for Sierra Nevada yellow-legged frogs; our most important project. I find it awkward identifying myself as Jeff’s supervisor, because our friendship stretches back over 20 years, to when I began working at Yosemite. He was heading up the monitoring of Peregrine Falcons in the park, and I had the pleasure of spending summer days lounging in Yosemite Valley meadows with Jeff, watching the falcon ayries while musing on life. His seeming supernatural vision at spotting the falcons, and other birds is legendary, and I’m glad other people have witnessed it. When I got funding for Northern Goshawk work, there was no question who could do the work. His thesis is the document that guides our protection of the species in Yosemite.

Among my many memories of Jeff is one from a couple of years ago, when we traveled to Davis to meet other biologists about Great Gray Owl research. He proudly gave us a tour of “the farm,” and it was clear he treasured the memories of his time in Davis. Through this blog, I savored getting to know the many people who’s lives he touched.

I could go on for many pages about Jeff’s many contributions to Yosemite, and his large spirit, but my fondest impressions of him is of how lightly he lived on this earth, and how different a world it would be if we could all follow his example. Whether it was his small wardrobe of clothes that her wore until they almost fell off of him, the ancient Subaru, that must be approaching 500,000 miles, or his project to rehabilitate bicycles back into useful lives.

Yesterday, I met with Jeff’s brother and sister in his office, next door to mine. It was a time of mixed laughter and tears, as we sat amidst his books and equipment. His passing has left a huge hole in Yosemite. His field crews came in to regroup, but are setting out again on Monday, in recognition that their project to restore Sierra Nevada yellow-legged frogs is a big part of Jeff’s legacy. They had many hilarious stories to share about Jeff in the field, because in the mountains, he was in his element, and the bureaucracy was left in his office. Jeff’s relatives have indicated that they plan a celebration of his life in El Portal, where he was well known and loved by many. When I know of the date and place, I will notify his Davis fan club.

Now, almost a week after Jeff’s death, I’m still numb. He was so full of life, energy, humor, and love of this planet and its people, it is hard to imagine he is gone. For you who hike the Sierra, however, you will see him in the Goshawk streaking through the forest, the Peregrine swooping along Yosemite Valley’s cliffs, and the yellow-legged frog plopping into the clear, cold water, and swimming strongly away. I look forward to meeting Jeff’s Davis family.

Steve Thompson

From Peter Maurer 9/4/09

First of all I want to thank everyone who has posted comments in this forum. The expressions of love and admiration for Jeff and his work have been so amazing. We, his family, have always known that Jeff was special, we just didn't realize how far-reaching his circle of friends was, and how greatly he affected so many people in such a positive way.

Reading everyone's comments has provided such solace to us, even though they usually bring us to tears. He was, indeed, a very unique individual, everyone's favorite uncle, and will always hold a special place in our hearts, where right now there is a huge hole.

Several people have asked about a memorial. Although we are still awaiting approval from NPS, we are planning on something for Sunday, September 20th in the Park. Once we receive approval from the Park Service, we will post the details for those interested in joining together for a celebration of his life.

Thank you again for all of the comments of support for us and his friends in the Yosemite community and beyond.

Jeff's brother.

I miss Jeff Maurer

Jeff Maurer is one of the greatest men I've had the pleasure of knowing in my lifetime. I used to live with Jeff at N. st. coop. He taught Sarina and me a lot about honey bees (collecting swarms, harvesting, and honey spoon licking). I had a fuller understanding and appreciation of Jeff as our friendship matured. And through reading the stories of the people he touched, my understanding and appreciation of the man continues to develop.

He had amazing intuition, inner peace, humility and genuineness. He was extremely bright and cunning as well. He brought a wisdom to the soccer field. There are few players who are able to see the field as if they had a birds eye perspective. But Jeff was one of them. A play maker. A community builder.

Jeff helped plan my recent bachelor party ("Mens weekend"). He introduced me to Kristin on this trip but made sure that she was on the outer perimeter of the campsite so as to respect the sanctity of our male nesting area. He also lead the group on a hike up to Bud Lake. (We took the bus to get there).
This was the second time he took a group of our friends up to Bud Lake. The first trip involved jumping into the frigid lake waters naked, drinking from glacier melt, and throwing a Frisbee back and forth on either side of the creek as we scurried down the descent trail. Man that was fun.

One of my fondest memories of Jeff was rollerblading with him on his birthday. It was kind of a spontaneous thing. The housemates (Jeff, Greg, and I) passed around a ceremonial peace pipe, put on our roller blades, and headed for North Davis. We felt like kids again, taking turns following the leader. We went to a few parks and saw some bird nests. It is hard to capture the feeling in words, but Jeff let us in on something special that day. He reminded me of the importance of being spontaneous and of letting go of life issues, even for just an afternoon. I want to keep this in mind as I move forward in life, especially when life seems unbearable. I love you Jeff and I miss you already.

Pete

Mono Lake memories of Jeff

Jeff taking in Virginia Canyon.



I first met Jeff at Mono Lake in 2003. He was a member of a big group of bird nerds who were helping me and PRBO document riparian breeding songbirds along a long stretch of the Eastern Sierra that summer. Typically these crews are filled by field assistants with maybe one or two seasons under their belt. You all know Jeff well enough to know that by 2003 he'd certainly been around the bird block. So I remember being a little nervous – here was a UC Davis professor with endless other experiences taking a summer break to help me and a bunch of twenty-somethin's count birds. But when he rolled up to our Mono City prefab in his old blue Subaru, there were honey jars, frisbees, a dulcimer, binoculars, maybe even a pair of skis, and his trusty old milk crate full of various grains and beans and eggs and whatever veggies he had pulled before leaving Davis scattered throughout. And that big mop of hair and … that smile. I thought, “yeh, this is going to work out.”

What an understatement. I couldn't have asked for a more humble, knowledgeable, joyful, grounded, competent or curious person to work with. He would go on week-long roves, observing and recording warblers, vireos, woodpeckers, pewees, hummingbirds (mere snacks for his raptor friends) and then he'd roll back into town to share his adventures and cool observations.


Jeff became a friend. And I was lucky enough to be able to keep working with him in the summers to come and to share a couple Mono Basin winters in between. When I read his friends' memories here and elsewhere and think of our own adventures, I wonder if Jeff ever slept. He was a sinewy denizen of the mountains brimming with energy and adventure and curiosity. A proselytizer of all things wild – but no mere evangelical, this man literally put frogs back in lakes and birds back on walls. And yet somehow in all of this bubbling energy, there was calm and humility and gentleness and straight talk. Like Gary Snyder's “real work”, he knew what had to be done.


I miss him very much.


My biggest sympathies to Jeff's family and partner and large network of friends.

Inauguration

I met Jeff in the summer of 2003, when he inaugurated the first honey harvest at Sunwise co-op. We were novices and had heard of the bee expert at N street. We invited Jeff over to kick off our first honey harvest with the one and a half honey boxes we'd wheedled out of our brand new bees. Jeff came over with four boxes brimming with honey and good cheer and taught us right away what a proper harvest party was all about. I thought of him as an inspirational bee-keeper before I got to know him as a person - gentle, sincere, humble and warm. He shared his knowledge as freely as the warm honey and made us all feel like we were on the right track. I always felt very comfortable in his presence - he was truly special. I will miss him very much.
- Aarti

A Rare Bird

Jeff was a rare bird, a magical, energetic, and passionate individual who inspired and touched countless others as the outpouring on this blog clearly shows. I have taken some solace in the fact that he was a person who was so well loved by so many people, that in hearts stretching from El Portal to Placerville to Davis, and no doubt elsewhere, Jeff is still very much present. Not many individuals could claim to have truly captured the hearts of so many and for that I am grateful.

I have known Jeff for about nine years, meeting him originally at the domes. Immediately upon meeting him I was struck by his spark, his enthusiasm, intelligence, and easy going nature. The way a smile seemed permanently to be emblazoned on his face, and in his eyes. I always felt like he was an old friend and delighted in talking to him about his beloved birds, bees, dancing, spinnnning hunnney, and of course laughing.

Last summer, Michael and I had the opportunity to visit him in his lovely Yosemite:

I ran to keep up with his nimble and bouncing legs as we bouldered up a creek, (off-trail and without limits) flying up the trail to the falls, and around the valley before settling in, into a wet, peaceful meadow to watch his beloved falcons nesting on the cliff ledges above. “Come with me to work,” he said, and Michael and I watched with awe and fascination as he pulled out a scope and a six pack of beer, “Let’s go. Look for the white streaks on the cliff ledge… there,” he pointed. And I noted not just his savyness at spotting the nesting birds and their young, but the ease with which he made his life work so delightful in a way that few seem to truly master. “So this is what I do,” he said –among other things– his eyes crinkling into a warm and large smile.

We had trouble leaving the beautiful sierras after staying in his little cabin in El Portal, and I have often thought about going back to visit, hike, eat honey, and swim.

Though I have not lived in Davis for a few years, I always had the luck of running into Jeff around town when we were both passing through or when he was on the central valley leg of his annual migration. Like Shauna said, with Jeff, time didn’t matter and as instantly as I spotted his thick mane of curly hair he would engulf me in a huge bear hug with the warmest smile. He always felt like an old friend, and I savored catching up.

I am deeply saddened by this loss, for myself, my friends, his birds, and frogs, but especially for his family, loved ones, and partner. He was a rare and loving bird and it seems cruel to imagine the world without him. Comfort and hugs to all those in grief.

- Michelle

From Rene on 9/3/09

I remember Jeff well. He was two years behind me in the Avian Sciences program. I came darned near being his assistant in the Goshawk study and regretted that I didn't do it ever since. I remembered that the position paid really well. When I mentioned that to him he said that he wanted to support those who worked for him at the highest possible level. I was so impressed by that.

He was a great guy and still lives in my mind.

Renee Hoyos

From Mauricio on 9/2/09

An inspiration

Whether running circles around everyone on the soccer field, sharing a conversation over a beer, collecting honey, sharing bird knowledge, Jeff was someone who immediately touched people with his passion for life. I am grateful for his being a part of my life and providing an inspiration for how to live life. Both his life and death provided an important example of how we should treat others and share warmth and kindness. He will be greatly missed but not forgotten.

Mauricio

From Eli on 9/1/09

All my prayers and blessings go on this day to Jeff and his family. I've just come back from grieving by the creek, where I felt Jeff's presence wrap his arm around me, and I believe he is in a good place.

A picture of Jeff pouring gallons of honey from a bucket into jars is attached. If Jeff's hives are still at the Full Circle Farm in Davis, there is an old ritual called "Telling the Bees" that a resident over there might be able to perform.

It was, until recent times, quite normal in the county of Norfolk, United Kingdom, for people with a small amount of land to keep bees. A very interesting folk custom grew out of this. When a member of the family died, the first thing you had to do was tell the bees about it. The procedure was simple. The head of the family would, together with a younger relative, head down to the beehives, whisper the name of the dead person to them, and then tie a piece of ribbon around the hives. The belief was that if you did not do so, the bees would leave. -- From http://everything2.com/title/Telling+the+bees

Among all the wonders and kindnesses and passions that were Jeff, he was a devoted keeper of the bees. When I first moved to Davis with a few hives, people kept telling me about this great guy who knew all the birds and kept bees and would help me extract honey from my hives should the bees make any extra. Sure enough, Jeff and his big smile and bright eyes came through. We invited some folks over to Dome 4, put "The Harder they Come" on the record player, and cranked away at the extractor until the golden nectar flowed.

Jeff comes to mind every time I've harvested honey since, and I know he will visit my thoughts of every harvest in the future. It so happens, by chance or by design, that the weekend of Jeff's passing was this year's honey harvest for Julia and me. Jeff's favorite part of the harvest, as I remember, was using rubber spatulas to scrape the last drops of honey out of the bucket. The man loved rubber spatulas and would wax eloquent on their virtues, and I can never look at one without thinking of Jeff.

Today I will be bottling the year's honey into jars, and will mourn for the loss of a friend and mentor with the filling of each. I love you Jeff, and may your next lives be as inspired as the one past.

Eli Sarnat

This is such shocking and tragic news, it doesn't seem real.

When I moved to Davis in 2002, Jeff was one of the first few people I met, and he was really kind to me. I had recently become interested in keeping bees, and he taught me about capturing swarms, finding the queen, general hive maintenance and harvesting honey. He gave me his old honey extractor when he bought a new one. Like Eli, I have a few fond memories of honey harvests with Jeff and others. When I think about Jeff, I keep thinking about the deep wrinkles by his eyes, formed from laughing a lot. Its funny how as faces age they can tell a story of how a person is. I also think about his jars and jars in the kitchen of his N street house of jams capped with beeswax and his big barrel of basil growing outside. I feel like his life was such a good example of living a simple, dedicated life, really cherishing good food, people and wild animals. He was also a good example to me of humility - here is someone with such an incredible knowledge of the natural world, and yet humble.

Jeff, you are missed.

Sarina

Does any one have any word on a memorial, or gathering, or anything?

Contributing to the Blog

Hi folks,
If you would like to contribute something to this Blog, it would be very welcomed and appreciated by everyone reading it. I hope that Jeff's community in El Portal will also feel welcome to contribute. Please just email me so I can add you as an author: marisafe@gmail.com. It also seems a good place to keep folks updated on memorials or any other news. My best wishes in healing to everyone...

Love,
Marisa

From Mark 9/1/09

Thank you everyone for the stories. It has helped me immensely. Thank you to Pete and Marisa for organizing this email thread and any future blog - I think the idea of posting all these memories for others is a good one.

I met Jeff soon after I moved to Davis in fall of 2000. It was a "Bioregional club" meeting at Sarah Wiederkehr's house (do you remember this Sarah?) - If I remember correctly it was an inaugural meeting organized by Sarah Kalmanovitz. and Talia H-D. Jeff was there and offered to lead a biking and birding field trip out to the Davis ponds. I didn't know many people in Davis at the time and I remember liking Jeff right away because he reminded me of so many of my crazy birder friends from Santa Cruz.

I feel obliged to note his soccer skills as well. I always enjoyed playing soccer with Jeff, one because he really was a skilled player and could set up and finish off great plays, but equally because I felt like he was always just having a great time. He would also run the pants off us younger chickens.

Of course I was most inspired by his love of the Sierra. I loved seeing him over the course of the past few years and hearing about the great work he was doing and having him ask me about what I was up to with my work. He was great that way, always so genuinely interested in his friends' endeavors.

Jeff was a great man and I will miss him so much.

Mark Bibbo

From Amy 9/1/09

Back when Jeff and I first meet in 2001, I had been hired by the EC Gardens to clear the weeds from the back acreage so it could be tilled. I would use a weed whacker & a mower. Jeff would come every afternoon and help me. He would use a machete, because he didn't want to use the fossil fuels, and because working with power tools was unpleasant. That's how Jeff was - he would do the right thing and have more fun doing it. Afterward, we would sit in the shade and drink a few beers and laugh.

Jeff was a magical person. Spending time with Jeff was like being a Buddhist - with Jeff, you were always in the moment, and the moment was wonderful. A simple afternoon at a swimming hole would stretch into an eternity of late summer sunshine, watching the wind, and surprise stashes of chocolate. Jeff had a profound influence on me, and changed the image of the person I'm striving to become. I don't think he realized that. I've missed Jeff over the last few years, and it's crushing that he's gone now.

Amy Zents