From: Sarah Dorison
Date: 22 May 2006
I met Larry about six months ago on a snowshoeing trip to Skyline Lake at Stevens Pass, along with my husband, Matt, and a great group of Mountaineers we had never met. It was beautiful and amazing and we ended up riding with this energetic, gregarious guy named Larry Ingalls. We got to hear some of his advice and battle stories and we looked up to him almost instantly. That grin! His passion for the outdoors was infectious. We were pretty much ready to follow this guy anywhere, though we barely knew him. He even took Matt up a special side trip to a peak that day. It wasn’t long after that that we found ourselves at the first meeting of the 2006 alpine scrambling course at which Larry was the jovial emcee. At the end, he even recited his poem to show his love of the mountains. We knew we had found a gem in the Mountaineers, but especially in Larry. Since that day, he had been the brave leader and cheerleader for the entire class (like surely he had for many others). He seemed to be present at every element of the training, including all the Thursday-night lectures and every field trip. Though the class is filled with great leaders, Larry fast became a role model for many of us in the class. Though we had only known Larry mere months, we were heartbroken when we heard the news at the trailhead before our final practice field trip on May 20. We would be scrambling without Larry. Immediately the wind seemed taken from all of our sails. Just two weeks before Larry had been teaching us how to use ice axes and how to “talk to the hand” on a glissade for the right positioning. He led us glissading down slopes we thought we couldn’t do, but then did. He helped us soldier up snow we thought was too steep. It wasn’t. He showed us how it was done. And what an amazing time we had in rain, snow and even blizzards. Larry even found a way to smile and laugh in the freezing winds and blowing snow before we went up Cowboy Mountain. Larry also knew when to be serious, whether it was talking about first aid, avalanche danger or even the rest step. Did Larry know how to frown? If he did, I couldn’t tell. I was really looking forward to many trips ahead with Larry with his beaming smile and patented chuckle. I know most Mountaineers and Larry’s co-workers have a lot more history with him than we do (and to you I send my sincere condolences), but I think the our little scrambling class will really miss him, too, because he was such a wonderful guy. I know Larry would want us to keep on hiking, scrambling and climbing for the views, the sunsets, the peaks, the fresh air and the bonds between all of us who truly love the mountains. Maybe when we’re up there bagging peaks, no matter how high, we’ll be a little closer to him. Thanks everyone for posting the great stories and photos of Larry. It is helpful to see him so joyful. Sandra, I never met you, but please know our thoughts are with you. You must be a pretty amazing person, too. Goodbye, Larry. You are a true Mountaineer. You are my hero!