From Neal Lischner

Ricardo was such a presence. The loss is unbelievable and feels infinite.

My first memory of Ricardo was during my first year at Middlebury on a very early season skiing day at Glen Ellen (now SugarbushNorth) with his roommate Rich Lennon. During the drive to the mountain from Midd, I was simultaneously introduced to P-funk, espresso (the Mag-D) and some green leafy substance that caused me to forget how to put on my skis. I don’t remember how I got connected with them, but it was a memorable day of skiing the same run over and over, faster and faster, and more and more, until they poured me back into the car at the end of the day. There were many more like that over the years and I never was able to quite keep up with Ricardo, but I was continually inspired to try. One year ago Eileen and I met Ricardo at the bus stop at the foot of Little Cottonwood Canyon with the snow coming down. He drove us up to Alta for a powder day to remember. He taught us the importance of getting up the road early to beat the inevitable closings behind us. He taught us how to do “laps” at Alta, which basically meant starting at the top and racing to the rope tow while stopping as little as possible. Eileen giggles and calls it the best day of skiing of her life whenever we talk about it. I noticed he wore his avalanche beacon despite our day of inbounds, life-accessed skiing. He was always planning ahead and aware of the situation. He consistently knew the exact direction on the mountain to take to find the best fresh tracks, saying ”stay high for optionality.” to me when we got off the lift.

When I heard the terrible news, I could not quite believe it could be true and that this could have happened to him. Sometimes life and death seem so random and unfair. Not being someone who believes in a heaven, I think I have determined where Ricardo might be now. An expert geologist, I think it would be fitting that he is probably now a part of all the rocks and mountains we all visit or live on. I’ll think of this every time I am out there.

We will miss you.

Neal and Eileen