On Wednesday, I checked my Twitter feed from my phone and found disastrous news: pro skier CR Johnson had passed away skiing at his home resort of Squaw Valley.  I had just pulled in to our hotel here in Nelson, BC, and the various tweets paying respect to CR hit me hard.

CR was a skier that many of my peers, including myself, watched with disbelief at the style, speed, and airtime he could manage off of natural terrain features and in the halfpipe.  His signature bio 900 trick in the superpipe at the X-Games a few years back helped push skiing to new levels and new heights, sending airs upwards of 22 feet in the halfpipe.

It was his traumatic brain injury from a ski accident in 2005 that got many of us thinking about our own limits and fears.  His inspirational recovery allowed us to think about the frailty of life, yet more importantly, the strength of the human spirit.  It was skiing that almost took CR’s life, and it was his love of skiing that brought him back.

The same season that he received the brain injury, CR was back on the slopes, skiing with his family in Tahoe.  It was something that seemed possible by only a superhero, and CR propelled himself into the skiing elite with a new mindset and focus on his love of the sport.  Multiple interviews and articles along the way would describe CR as motivated and deeply passionate about skiing and his experience.  He would repeatedly state that his motives for being back on the hill were to ski to live.

So, at his home mountain, atop Squaw Valley’s infamous C2-Light Towers cliff band, CR once again stepped into those superhero shoes and sent his last line down the exposed rocky section below.  A few turns later and skiing lost one of its brightest stars.
The day after his passing, I awoke to one of the most gorgeous views right outside my hotel room window.  Looking out into the early morning mist rising from Kootenay lake, I found myself thinking about CR, his passing, and what that will do to the thousands of skiers out there that looked up to him for inspiration.  With the recent passing of Shane McConkey, Doug Coombs, and my good friend John Nicoletta, it would seem skiing has left us with too many gravestones instead of high-fives and smiling faces.

Yet, there I was, in the heart of the Kootenays, living out the dream trip for any ski bum; to think of skiing as anything but giving would be a disservice to a sport that has allowed countless numbers of people to huck big and dream bigger.  In the past, I have used skiing as solace, the place to go to forget about all the events and worries of daily life.  Yesterday was no different.  With thoughts of CR running through my head up the road to Whitewater Ski Resort, my good friends Casey, A.J. and I strapped on our skis and headed out to ski a new area and find some soft turns.  Once again, skiing would help me take the time to digest the news of tragic events, all the while letting that smile creep back across my face.

CR, you will be missed.  You were one of the pioneers of a blossoming resurgence of interest in skiing, and your passing will leave an empty hole for many.  Our only solace is in knowing that you would want us to go out and ski and forget about our worries and fears, and we thank you for that.

Tags: C.R. Johnson, pro skier