A Tribute to Ted Wilson
REMEMBERING TED WILSON
Repost from the marriott library
Ted Wilson passed away on April 11, 2024, leaving behind a vast legacy of public service and optimism. Ted Wilson was the former Salt Lake City Mayor from 1976 to 1985, a University of Utah employee, and a well-known outdoor recreationalist and conservationist. These and other activities are documented in the Marriott Library’s collections, including Ted L. Wilson photograph collection, the Alpenbock Climbing Club’s scrapbooks, and Ted Wilson’s oral history from June 2011.
In countless oral histories, people share their stories of Mayor Ted Wilson. As Jerry Anderegg described, “I think Ted Wilson is the same kind of a person [to Rick Reese], you know. I say cerebral, very smart… capable but smart” (page 16). Rick Reese recounted, “They’ve all been great friends ever since. But Ted and I became particularly close. First of all, we were climbing at pretty much the same standard at the time and we just hit it off. He and I are probably best friends and have been since we were eighteen or nineteen years old. Our families have grown up together” (page 17).
Throughout his life, Mayor Ted Wilson maintained a deep connection to Little Cottonwood Canyon through skiing, climbing, and conservation work. As he recounted in his oral history, “Then another tradition we had that we did, I think three times, maybe four times, was in the spring… we put our skis on our packs and we would climb the south ridge of Mount Superior. I think we were the first ones to actually ski that big face on Superior… An adventuresome ski, and it was for us. We had to be really careful” (page 67). As a member of the Alpenbock Climbing Club, Mayor Ted Wilson had the first known ascent in Little Cottonwood Canyon on a route called Chickenhead Holiday in 1961. In Bob Springmeyer’s oral history he states, “We acted as the mountain rescue group for the county sheriff’s office, so we were very active in that. We were active with closing some open caves and mines, and we were active with access. Ted worked, you know, when he was mayor, did a lot of work for protecting access in Little Cottonwood Canyon” (page 18). Mayor Ted Wilson’s lifelong dedication to Little Cottonwood Canyon was more recently demonstrated by his involvement with the historical nomination and advocacy events. Ted’s oral history interview is available on the Ascent Archive podcast in 2 episodes (January 30 and February 6, 2024).
As mentioned in his obituary, a public celebration will be on Friday, May 17, 10 am, Rice-Eccles Stadium Tower. The Marriott Library extends our deepest condolences to Mayor Ted Wilson’s family and friends.
By: Special Collections at the Marriott Library
I wish I could claim to be a climber. I gained maybe an ounce of climbing experience in 21 years of life with Ted. I learned a bit with him on a couple of routes in LCC and on a memorable trip to the French and Swiss Alps in 2009. Just a smidge!
I mostly want to thank all who have contributed memories here and my gratitude for Julia, who spent time and energy in the past couple of years with Ted as he declined physically. Julia saw the incredible value of capturing Ted's climbing legacy (along with all Alpenbock members) and his stewardship for the Wasatch and other outdoor treasures. The last few years of telling stories and sharing lunches with old and new friends meant the world to Ted. He was in his happy place. He loved living by the mantra "the older we get, the better we were."
My life as Ted's wife and best friend was indelibly shaped by the rich history and friendships of the climbing community.
I wish you all love and safety! Stay open to Ted's spirit in our amazing mountains. He is everywhere.
Many thanks,
Holly Mullen
Millcreek, Utah
May 20,2024
Tributes to Ted Wilson
Ted’s daughter, Jenny, recently released a link to THE GRAND RESCUE at no cost as a tribute to her dad.
Help us to celebrate Ted’s incredible life! If you have stories of him that you would like to share or photos, please send them to Julia@SaltLakeClimbers.org. We will send them to Ted's family and share them with the climbing community below.
I never had the opportunity to rope up with Ted Wilson, but I still considered him a climbing partner and dear friend. It can suck having old friends. You witness the tough reality of physical and mental decline, but it was an honor to be welcomed to be by his side during his vulnerability of aging. He taught me how to send it to the final summit of life with a twinkle in his eye, grace, and good humor. He would brag that he had the best balance climbing than any of his friends. As Parkinson's disease challenged that, he would joke about his climbing now being summiting staircases, his trekking poles clicking along the way.
Like the treasured climbing partner who will drop anything for an adventure, Ted was game to attend any climbing outing I invited him to, usually at the last minute, and always looked dapper. I wouldn’t have to worry about him at the climbing fundraisers or festivals as he knew absolutely everyone and if he didn’t, he made a quick friend, always truly interested in other people. Even though he no longer climbed rocks in his 80s (to my knowledge), he remained a climber and active member of the community in his final decade. He taught me that the times spent climbing and those you spend it with are some of the best times of life and dearest friendships one can have. He grieved his climbing partner Rick Reese with open honesty and taught me that that’s ok. He gifted me his Alpenbock Club patch with a box of chocolates and a song and I’ve never received a greater tribute to being a climber.
My second to last lunch with Ted and his daughter Jenny Wilson was spent talking about how to rescue Little Cottonwood from the destruction of the UDOT gondola proposal. We were, and still are, working on a short documentary film called Alpenbock that will celebrate our climbing legacy in Big and Little Cottonwood Canyons, and the enduring spirit of the Alpenbock Club amid contemporary preservation challenges. He mentored me on navigating divisive issues like the gondola with mutual respect, while keeping principles. He never missed an opportunity to share his love and advocate for the canyons and his unabashed encouragement and complementary nature to others efforts made others stand up for environmental causes. We would not have legitimate access to the 140 acres of the LDS Church’s private property at the Gate Buttress if Ted hadn’t helped us negotiate the lease for the Salt Lake Climbers Alliance with the presiding bishopric - reminiscing about the time when he called upon members of the Church to help save Salt Lake from the floods of ‘83 - sandbagging the streets in their Sunday church clothes. He shared stories of advocacy efforts even before 2017 to keep the Church from fencing off the Gate Buttress and his efforts to stop development on the northside property at the mouth of LCC.
He was an advocate and steward, the greatest crag citizen of the Wasatch - may his legacy and enduring spirit live on amongst our collective psych and passion for the mountains. He never let me leave without walking me to his door with a hug. He never let me leave without saying I love you.
The SLCA is accepting donations for the Alpenbock film here. There will be more to come about the film in the coming weeks.
By Julia Geisler
April 15, 2024
Ted dramatically affected my formative years as a climber. As I recall, his stories of his time in Leysin, Switzerland influenced Court Richards and me to visit Leysin and Chamonix during the summer of 1965 where my alpine climbing career began. In 1969 I was a climbing ranger in the Tetons with Ted, and other Alpenbock members Bob Irvine, Rick Reese, and Ralph Tingey. Unfortunately my memory is fading about routes that I did with Ted in the Tetons in 1969, but I vaguely remember doing the fairly difficult North West Chimney of the Grand Teton with Ted that summer. Ted was a superb climbing companion due to both his optimistic personality and climbing skills.
By George Lowe
April 21, 2024
My first interaction with Ted Wilson was not in person but with personal property. I was handed his old rack of pitons after they were donated to the SLCA. I safely guarded these historic relics before they were donated to the Marriott Library. Like anyone's climbing rack, these told a story, a special story. I needed to understand its unique story. I also wanted to know what in the hell this weird, long, ringed aluminum piton was…I needed answers.
I finally met Ted at the annual SLCA fundraiser. I happened to have his rack on display for bystanders to check out. When I saw Ted in the crowd, I grabbed the rack and ran over. I had so many questions. Julia Geisler made the formal introduction. I quickly produced the rack and Ted's face lit up. It was as if two old friends were reuniting. You know when someone is handy by how they hold a hammer. It was obvious that Ted understood this craft and his way around his old rack.
I quickly asked what that aluminum piton was. With a cheeky smile, he said it was his lone ice piton that he and Rick Reese used on the 1962 first ascent of the Great White Icicle in Little Cottonwood Canyon. He continued to explain that since this was the only one he had, they were forced to bash pitons into the wall for the majority of the route. “We had really bad rope drag,” he said as he laughed.
I had the pleasure of running into Ted a few more times since that first meeting: an afternoon beer on his couch, breakfast at Shannon’s Cafe, and what might have been his last climbing interview for the short documentary film the SLCA is making called Alpenbock. During that interview, I saw a man open up about his vulnerabilities. Like unzipping a suitcase, I saw what Ted was carrying: his love of family, community, service, and climbing. His heartache over Rick Reese and the frustrations of not being able to climb. I only got to know a slice of Ted from afar.
It's interesting that once someone passes, the stories come out. You almost get to know them better than before. I was unaware of his involvement in the 2017 Gate Buttress lease and preserving a portion of Little Cottonwood Canyon from private development. The landscapes I take for granted can be traced back to Ted. He was a living reminder that we all can give 100% to living a life as climbers and still give 100% to community and conservation. These two are not mutually exclusive but inclusive and can be done. Thank you for making me realize that, Ted!
By Andrew Brodhead
April 16, 2024
Memories of Ted Wilson
I believe I met Ted fairly soon after I started working at Timberline Sports in 1969. At that time, Timberline was the premier climbing shop in Salt Lake. I started working part-time there shortly after graduating from high school.
I had first been exposed to climbing in 1966 at the age of 15. By 1969, I had acquired my first rope and a rudimentary rack, all pitons in those pre-nut and cam days. The Alpenbock climbers were the royalty of the Salt Lake climbing scene, having pioneered most of the routes on the “Granite” in Little Cottonwood and Bell’s canyons. Bock members Bill Conrod, Court Richards and George Lowe were co-workers at Timberline and had become friends and mentors as I struggled to increase my climbing knowledge and skills. Through them, I met Ted and other Bock climbers.
Over the years, I did a number of local climbs and ski tours with Ted. The first climb with him was probably the most memorable. It was an ascent of the East Ridge of Wolf’s Head in the Wind Rivers. This moderate route was included in Steve Roper and Allen Steck’s Fifty Classic Climbs of North America (1979). While being rated only 5.6, it features a wealth of very exposed and often improbable- appearing climbing. In fact, when I looked down on the route from the summit of Pingora (an adjacent peak) a year after my first climb of it in 1969, the ridge looked so narrow and terrifying that I couldn’t believe that I could possibly have climbed it a year earlier!
As word of the quality of the climbing on the route spread, it became known as one of the prime climbs to do in the Cirque of the Towers. I was fortunate to have done another ascent of the East Ridge in the summer of 1972. Thus, when Ted, Milt Hokanson (another original Bock member) and I found ourselves in the Cirque on Labor Day weekend in ‘72, the climb we should do was obvious. Neither Ted nor Milt had done the route, so I was the “old hand” as we planned our climb and could suggest that Ted lead certain pitches knowing how much he would enjoy them.
More than 50 years later, I still treasure memories of that fine day. We had excellent weather, great climbing and the camaraderie and friendship of fine companions. As we descended toward Wolf-jaw Col, we heard what can only be described as a rather squawky yodel coming from the summit of Overhanging Tower. Ted and Milt both immediately said that they would recognize that yodel anywhere and we all scrambled up Overhanging Tower to engage the source of the unique yodel. It was Rich Ream, another original Alpenbock member. Rich was from an older generation than Ted and Milt, and had been a “father-figure” and mentor to the younger Bock members. And, as they have frequently commented, he bought the beer! Rich had moved from Salt Lake to Jackson and had come over from the Tetons to enjoy the alpine scenery of the Cirque. The unexpected meeting with Rich, the elder statesman of the Alpenbock club, emphasized the importance of mentorship in passing on both knowledge of the craft and the traditions of climbing from older generations of climbers to younger ones. Rich had shared his knowledge with the younger Alpenbock climbers and now Ted and Milt were sharing it with me. Ted was not only a talented climber but also a great human being!
By Dave Smith
April 23, 2024
In Honor of My Good Friend Ted Wilson
Were it not for Ted, I don’t believe I would have relocated Black Diamond to Utah in the summer of 1991. Let me explain:
Late in 1989, I committed to relocating the embryonic Black Diamond out from the beach in Ventura to a location that would reside on the asset side of our balance sheet and be accretive to a company that aspired to be “one with the sports we serve, absolutely indistinguishable from them”. Hence, we began a systematic search of the west for this ideal location. Early on Utah and Park City appeared on our Radar and the Park City/Summit county chamber of commerce invited us out for a weekend visit to get a feel of the place that included a small intimate dinner with the Mayor, Chamber Head and a few folks that they thought would be influential in getting us out there. Fortunately, this included Ted. Though we were impressed by the area we had serious concerns about the politics, the climbing community, and the dominant religion’s influence. Ted, over dinner, befriended us while basking in the charm and warmth of his personality. Learning of Ted’s climbing accomplishments, that he had been mayor of salt lake for 3 terms and almost became governor completely changed our preconceived attitudes about Utah that most likely would have prevented us from picking SLC over several other seemingly attractive venues.
Upon relocating here, Ted became a dear and close friend. He introduced me to backcountry skiing here and did so by simultaneously including his life long and best friend, Rick Reese . He set up the new Exum Utah guide service in one of BD’s many empty chalets and MC’d the opening night ceremony of our climbing gym (and Utah’s first) Rockreation. Ted introduced us to his sister after her son Roman Latta, who worked at BD, died in an avalanche our first winter there. That introduction was instrumental in the creation of the first “Friends of the Utah Avalanche Center” and the annual fund raising dinner in BD’s parking lot. Ted intervened with the political leadership of the state on BD’s and the industry’s behalf when I asked for his help. When we acquired Gregory Packs he and Holly came to help convince that leadership team that relocating to Utah would be a wonderful opportunity for them like he had done for us.
Over the years there were many shared conversations, on conservation, climbing the Wasatch and more over our occasional luncheons that we both so enjoyed.
Ted was both a remarkable man and a strong influence on myself and BD. I and our community will sincerely missing him.
By: Peter Metcalf
April 28, 2024
