Maurer Power

Ultimate frisbee with the Davis "Ticks"


Bachelor party ski trip for Andy Stubblefield... spring 2004


Skiing spring corn snow on Mt Lassen, circa 1997

Jeff, it is difficult to believe you are no longer with us. You were one unique hombre. You were on your own path different from all other paths. It was hard to keep you on a trail or following the same ski track, heading up a peak in the backcountry. There was this impatience with trails or perhaps most things in life that constrain or box in a free roaming individual. Whenever I went one direction, it often seemed like you went the other, less traveled way. I remember skiing with a group including you near Red Lake Peak on Carson Pass. When we reached the top there were the usual discussions of best descent route… just when I thought we all agreed on the same line, you veered off down another chute, an option the rest of us discarded as perhaps too steep or avalanche prone. “Meet you at the bottom!”

You were a man of simple means who led by example. You didn’t need possessions to be happy. What mattered is what should matter – connection with good friends, fresh delicious food, and adventure. Most of what you owned was well used. Why buy more, when what you have still works? Who needs plastic ski boots and the latest fattest skis to have a good time in the backcountry? If the old Subaru with 350K miles gets where it needs to, why upgrade? You were one of the kindest and gentlest beings. To use a cliché - you’d give anyone the shirt off your back. That shirt, probably worn and thread bare, might not be useful to most. As our friend Dan noted, you left a small footprint. That means more resources for the critters you loved… the peregrines, the goshawks, the mountain yellow legged frogs. Small beings that are better off today with your efforts, the knowledge you gathered, and the way you lived your life.

Playing ultimate Frisbee in Davis. You ran and ran and ran… where did you get that energy and endurance? Was it the magic honey? I think the nickname “Maurer Power” came from ultimate, but it could have predated ultimate because it surely also described the way you lived other joys in life. You had this amazing engine on a scrawny supercharged body. I enjoyed guarding you even though it usually meant having to sub out in exhaustion after the end of the point. If there were a picture, it would show you in perma-sprint mode with an easy relaxed smile, and me a couple of steps behind, grimacing – face contorted into anything but a smile – struggling to keep up. I loved it when you were on my team, because of the exuberance with which you played and because you were my friend, someone I deeply respected and shared a hard to explain kinship about the wilderness experience. When you showed up to play, I remember how it brightened everyone’s spirits… “a greeting of “Maurer power!” rang out among your fellow players as your old cruiser bike came gliding across Russell field.

Our paths crossed less frequently after Davis, but the reunions were always wonderful and memorable. No word for half a year then out of the blue I’d get a call – “E… I’m coming through town tomorrow with my class, what are you doing?” The last time - you stopped by my place in Redding on your way back from visiting family. We had a feast of fresh veggies from the farmers market. You left me some colorful potatoes from your friend’s farm. I really enjoyed them. Never got to tell you how much. I would have savored them even more had I known.

Maurer Power to you. -Eric Knapp