“In May 2023, we lost our beloved friend Eric to an avalanche while skiing in Denali. Four months later, in mid-September, two of us traveled into the backcountry to spend a night on the mountain where he died. 

For twelve miles we wallowed and bushwhacked through every miserable type of vegetation the park has to offer: dwarf birch, not-so-dwarf birch, waist-high grass, willows, blueberries, and alders. More than once, we said Eric would have laughed and told us how we’d chosen to do things the hard way; that skiing out there, floating on top of it all, would have been much easier. We crossed beaver dams and waded through bogs, trekked over soggy tundra and balanced on top of tussocks, all while enduring hard winds and rain and cold—just to sit quietly in the place where our friend’s body finally came to rest.

Knowing we were up there that morning, one of our friends captured an image of Eric’s mountain as the Sun moved through the clouds. This piece was painted from that image. To us it’s a reflection of our experience, which was embarked upon as a profound act of love. It also serves as a reminder that Eric wouldn’t want us to see the mountain as something to be hated or feared—but as he did that day when he last skied out from the Park Road: indescribably, wildly beautiful, and worth exploring despite its many challenges.” - Marinell Chandler