A crisp clean buff on the kindest of guides—Rob Coppolillo.
I’d get my Rob Coppolillo fix a few different ways. The first, although a degree separated from Rob, made me chuckle every time. I FaceTime my friend Kelly on the regular. 80 percent of the time, Kelly pops on screen wearing a ratty bold-red Vetta Mountain Guides buff—the name of Rob’s guiding outfit. True to form, the VMG buff is low-tech-modified for light and fast: it’s cut in half and worn as a headband. Certainly, as this buff was a gift from Rob, the headband can tell stories.
Storytelling, you see, was in Rob’s bones. He could weave a tale.
Before we go any further, as this is so sad to write, Rob’s wife and children and extended family lost Rob last week in a crevasse fall while he was guiding the Icefall Traverse in the Canadian Rockies.
Rob was an IFMGA guide, pinned proudly back in 2014. Though, first and foremost, he was a wordsmith, a tale-weaver. Over the decades, he penned witty and informed pieces about cycling, climbing, skiing, and life and entertained many dinner gatherings with a vast catalog of stories. The key to listening to a Rob yarn is this: be mindful when you sip that wine, as you might be spraying it forth in a fit of laughter. But also, be prepared for a hard-hitting, life-affirming nugget to wrap the story up. In other words, like skiing a serious line or climbing a sketchy pitch, listening to Rob was a time to be 100% committed to being present in the moment.
Rob and I connected over writing and skiing. His widely recognized Ski Guide Manual sat by my bedside for years and, for the past few ski seasons, rested proudly in our living room. My email’s Sent folder and phone’s call history is littered with digital artifacts of pitches I’d sent Rob to contemplate. (Not that it would matter to Rob, but I always followed the 3-2-3 rule in our correspondence: 3Os, 2Ps, and 3Ls = Coppolillo).
When Rob sent a story draft, you knew you were in for a good day. A Rob draft was usually set to publish. Selfishly, this meant less work and more time to head out and ski. Case in point—our recent back and forth on Rob’s review of an avalanche transceiver was spent with me debating his use of the word “sophistry” in a single sentence.
Rob’s response to my query was terse: “I prefer the term ‘sophistry’ as it sets up the joke better.” This ended the short debate. His instincts were impeccable.
I don’t think of myself as needing a vast group of friends. I need close friends. Which comes with a commitment to deep conversations premised on transparency and vulnerability. Conversations with Rob were all these, and I am grateful. When I first posited the idea of starting The High Route, Rob counseled me to expect a rough road but to jump in 100% and commit. We committed.
As one might not expect of two friends enraptured by the mountains, we rarely communicated about our adventures. Conversations moved quickly past niceties and “what have you been up to?” to how to raise children. Neither of us were experts—as if anyone is. I had a jump start on Rob. My children are 16 and 21; Rob’s are twin boys emerging into their teens.
Stumbling out of the Covid pandemic, it’s simple enough to say that my family was nearly shattered by the complexities and realities of a young child’s struggles. Parenting is a bizarre entry into cause and effect and, hopefully, self-reflection. Rob was always quick to ask how we were doing and, most importantly, how my children were. He asked probing and thoughtful questions about how to navigate children being children.
Rob’s parenting queries, more often than not, were an opportunity for self-reflection, not advice. Which is to say, more a time for me to discuss my well intentioned lack of skill. At the core of our conversations were how to do right by our children and prepare them for the vagaries of life with a heavy dose of love. Which I know he did. This is the Coppolillo way—done right with joy, humor, and skill, and 3Os, 2Ps, and 3Ls.
Postscript: Since this was first published, a Go Fund Me was set up to help support Rob’s family. Please consider donating.
Well written Jason. I didn’t know Rob very well, but from the time I did spend with him, I bet I can say he would appreciate your piece.
My sincere condolences to his family and friends.
Wow, sad news. I didn’t know Rob personally, but I too have a well-worn copy of the Ski Guide Manual in my house. After hearing him on a podcast last year I corresponded with him and got a signed copy of it for my son for Christmas last year. He was super nice, just seemed like a genuinely good guy. I’m so sorry for his family and friends.
This saddens me deeply. I got to ski with him this February, just a quick fitness lap on the local hill, but that was enough to know he was a great guy. Such a humble, funny, and skilled human. Was hoping to ski with him again someday. My deepest condolences to his family and friends.
Thank you for the wonderful remembrance, Jason. Made me laugh, smile, and feel in my heart, which means it made me think of Rob. I’ll miss having him here in the physical world, but words like yours help us keep him close. What a good one, I’ll miss him.