Hayden Kennedy

Over the last few years, however, as I’ve watched too many friends go to the mountains only to never return, I’ve realized something painful. It’s not just the memorable summits and crux moves that are fleeting. Friends and climbing partners are fleeting, too. This is the painful reality of our sport, and I’m unsure what to make of it. Climbing is either a beautiful gift or a curse.

Later on, whenever we'd run into Julie & Michael at COR they'd always be so excited to share the latest news of their son, now that he was off on his own. We invited them to a couple of dinner parties but they replied, "we're driving down to Almo to get cell service. Hayden is planning to call us and we can't wait to hear from him". It was obvious he was their world to them.

In Memory of Hayden Kennedy
It is with heavy hearts that we say goodbye to our friend, Ambassador and true brother of the BD tribe, Hayden Kennedy.
To say Hayden was a talented climber would be an understatement. To say he was one of the world’s best climbers is closer to the truth, yet even those words fall flat and fail miserably at truly describing what Hayden—or HK as we called him—really represented in our sport. He was, with all intents and purposes, a climber who transcended barriers. From high-end 5.14 sport routes at his home crag in Rifle, Colorado, to 5.14 trad lines in the Creek, to the first fair means ascent of Cerro Torre’s Southeast Ridge in Patagonia with Jason Kruk, or his first ascent with Kyle Dempster and Josh Warton on the south face of the Ogre in Pakistan.
Yet, even that run-on list of incredible achievements hardly captures the whole picture. In truth, trying to share the full breadth of HK’s transcendental abilities in the vertical world, which he effortlessly cultivated in a mere 27 years, is impossible.
But to be clear, he was by no means an elitist. In fact, as if born from a different generation, HK was a staunch believer in walking the walk, not talking the talk. You couldn’t find him on social media, and until a few years ago he clung to his malfunctioning, archaic flip phone as if it was a crucial piece to his rack. In short, HK climbed to climb, not to spray. And it was the moments in the mountains that mattered most to him, not “instatweetingmyfacegram” as he would often joke with his friends.
HK’s depth went well beyond climbing, however. In high school he played the sax, and recently he applied that musical theory to the guitar while recovering from a torn ACL in his hometown of Carbondale, Colorado. He diligently practiced during the length of that winter’s recovery, and soon had a repertoire of songs that hinted at his eclectic tastes in music. From old school country to classic rock, to German electronica, he absorbed it all with the same ease that he applied to his climbing. Alpine, sport, trad; country, metal, folk. To HK, it was all good.
For someone so multi-faceted, just climbing wasn’t enough. Whether he was talking at length about his latest reading list, or immersed in the finer points of baking bread, HK was constantly searching for new avenues of self-expression, and new ways to live. He often wrote about his expeditions to the greater ranges—frequently publishing pieces in Alpinist, Rock and Ice, Evening Sends and other mags and websites—and his ability to weave a meaningful narrative through the trials and tribulations of climbing was innate. He also incorporated this skill into his live presentations, where he’d hold the audience rapt with tales that often crossed into the deeper reaches of loss and love and how they become undivided in a life of climbing.
What he had recently found, though, was Inge. Inge Perkins was every bit Hayden’s equal. A brilliant climber, skier, and beautiful soul, Inge was HK’s latest source of dedication—and his commitment was unwavering as always.
Inge and HK had moved to Bozeman, Montana, together in the last few months. On Saturday, October 7, they headed into the backcountry of southwestern Montana for an early season ski tour. On Saturday Inge was killed in an avalanche. Unable to bear the loss of his partner in life, the following day, Sunday, October 8, Hayden Kennedy took his own life.
Our hearts go out to their families, and anyone they touched along the way.
We know the list is innumerable.

Both skiers were caught, skier 1 was partially buried and skier 2 was fully buried. Skier 1 searched for skier 2, was unable to locate her, and then hiked himself out from the area. On Monday, Gallatin County Search and Rescue recovered the body of skier 2. They located her with avalanche probes, buried 3’ deep.

On Saturday, October 7th 2017, a backcountry skier, famous climber Inge Perkins, was fully buried and killed in an avalanche while approaching Imp Peak, MT. Her ski partner, famous climber Hayden Kennedy, was only partially buried by the avalanche, searched for his buried partner, couldn’t find her, hiked out, and notified authorities.

The next day, Hayden took his own life in grief.

He must have needed to be with her.

Abstract: Even though people are capable of making decisions in a thorough and methodical way, it appears that most of the time they don’t. A growing body of research suggests that people unconsciously use simple rules of thumb, or heuristics, to navigate the routine complexities of modern life. In this paper, I examine evidence that four of these heuristics – familiarity, social proof, commitment and scarcity – have influenced the decisions of avalanche victims. Using a quantitative method to define the level of hazard exposure in 598 avalanche accidents in the United States, I compare the behavior of the victims when heuristic cues were present to their behavior when these cues were absent. Key findings of this study include: 1) evidence that social proof, commitment, and scarcity traps were significant in many accidents, 2) evidence that group size influenced susceptibility to certain heuristic traps, and 3) evidence that the level of avalanche training in victims influenced their susceptibility to heuristic traps. These findings strongly support the idea that tools for managing heuristic traps are essential for effective avalanche education.

“Over the last few years, however, as I’ve watched too many friends go to the mountains only to never return, I’ve realized something painful,” wrote Hayden in Evening Sends just last month. “It’s not just the memorable summits and crux moves that are fleeting. Friends and climbing partners are fleeting, too. This is the painful reality of our sport, and I’m unsure what to make of it. Climbing is either a beautiful gift or a curse.”