In the summer of 2012 I had a phone conversation with Dean Potter. One of his sponsors helped connect us for a story about slacklining. He apologized because he’d been off the grid and busy, and apologized again at the end of the interview for being out of touch.
During that interview I apologized to Dean as well.
In 1999 I met Dean at the Outdoor Retailer trade show in Salt Lake. I’d spoken with him on the phone on background for a story in National Geographic Adventure about six months before, but after meeting him in person I felt contrite about something I’d said behind his back in an editorial meeting: that I didn’t think Dean Potter would be alive in a year.
After meeting him in person, though, I felt crappy about that prediction, but didn’t have the courage to tell him then that I was a callous jerk.
When we spoke on the phone in 2012 and I fessed up to my prediction of his early demise back in 1999 and apologized for it, Potter cackled. He said he understood, that he’d been hearing it as long as he could remember, and that he got it, but it didn’t change his outlook.
And he explained that although the world only saw the danger in what he did while slacklining without a tether, he practiced any walk with hundreds of tethered walks first, and practiced catching himself on the line, so that during these tethered warmup walks he’d push himself exceptionally hard, harder than he ever would without a tether, and then if he fell he’d catch the line, sometimes he said with only one hand. He’d pull himself back up onto the line and go at it again. He said the tether eventually wasn’t even needed, because he’d become so adept at the catches.
Now that Potter’s gone, I’ve been reading reactions from far and wide that condemn the way he lived.
Potter, like Alex Lowe before him, wasn’t someone we should rush to condemn. If you met either man (I also met Lowe) you’d know a kind of glowing, magnetic intensity. You’d literally have to take a step back from them during a conversation because it was like standing next to a hot campfire. And it was also clear that neither one could live conventionally.
I’m not condoning Potter’s actions for anyone else. I’m also not saying that some of Alex Lowe’s more harrowing ice climbs were wise maneuvers, either.
But we lionized these men for good reason. They inspired us. They showed us what was humanly possible when everyone presumed otherwise. Potter inspired the hell out of me and millions of people around the world who have never climbed and never will climb or BASE jump or wingsuit.
His death now doesn’t change that fact.
It’s sad, yes, but senseless? Hardly. It made sense to Potter, because slacklining without a tether and soloing and wingsuit flying is how he made sense of his existence. Unraveling that thread, the thread he wove for himself, isn’t fair, and it doesn’t properly credit Potter for having the guts to live his life his own way and making it work for him. It was deadly, and it killed him in the end, but we should all be lucky enough to walk a line that makes our souls burn so brightly.
As always, top notch stuff from the AJ.
Well played. Dean Potter was a test pilot for the Extreme… of everything. We lived vicariously through the fabulously bold exploits that Potter, Honnold, etc do. He will be missed, and he will shine on.
Thank you dean.
The people who live on their terms, who push at the very fabric of what’s reasonable for “ordinary humans” to achieve, these are my heroes. I’ll never base jump or fly a wingsuit, but I have my ways of constantly pushing the envelope…and I bloomed LATE as a risk taker. But I would rather learn and grow and push myself and live on MY terms—alive and spirited and wrestling creatively with my fears—than succumb to them and live out my days blandly waiting for the end to arrive, while I cling to a sterile, soulless safety.
Is it when these pioneers of the spirit leave? Sure. But I celebrate their commitment and courage more than I mourn their departure. We should all be so fortunate as to perish doing what we love. It’s not advocating recklessness, it’s advocating LIVING.
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!” ― Hunter S. Thompson
Vuela Dean
I don’t think the issue is whether Dean’s death make sense; it didn’t; no death makes sense. The question is, did his life make sense? It did.
Our death may be meaningless to us but can be crushing to those who love us.
Bravo Michael. I knew Dean as well, and many others of the same cut. They are extraordinary. Thank you, it’s good to read this.
I was in Europe when I heard the news Sunday. Then Potter’s death was actually on BBC TV in Italy Monday AM when I woke. I felt compelled to write this post, because I’m just as conflicted as @Mashup, and for the same reasons. Yes, some of this glorification and notoriety and dollars that come to risk takers is a huge negative, without a doubt. But let’s be honest, too. Ball sports of every type and genre are glorified on a massive scale and a kid surfing youtube might only happen upon the likes of someone like Potter. And then, perhaps, a light switch is turned on that there could be something amazing and possible beyond a grass pitch in a stadium. It doesn’t wipe away the pain of Potter’s survivors. It doesn’t excuse the fact many of us cannot imagine cutting it so close, repeatedly. But I also cannot help but think we need this tension, and even to argue over it. Without it, we’d all only ever be watching on youtube, never wondering if we could, or should? And we all need that wonder.
This is by far one of the best comments I have read. Thank you Michael!
Thanks for the adventures.
R. I. P. Dean
I think the problem that many people have with the story is not that there was anything wrong with the man practicing his passion, it is instead the glorification of such a sport that is, by pure nature, only practiced by experts and is still one of the most dangerous sports known. The attention that a death in this sport gets is dangerous to those who might be driven to attempt such a sport because of it. The anger towards this tragedy is often misguided and seems to be a “he got what he deserved” mentality, but I think that this anger is directed towards the publicity of it and the fact that for many of these athletes it is just a matter of time before something happens. I don’t doubt for a moment that Dean was a spectacular person and loved by those around him. It’s a tragedy for him to have lost his life, but it is by no means spectacular the way he lost it.
You get up in the morning and paddle out….whether it’s ankle slappers or double overhead minus tide, it’s the fact that you paddle out that puts you in the realm of “doing what you love”
Awesome write-up
This piece and these comments are such a welcome tonic to the depressing coverage, trolling and judgemental sorts who have felt the need to disparage Dean in death. So grateful to finally read something that expresses my own views so articulately, and I include some of the above comments in that too.
Agreed!
Very thoughtful writing; what an amazing person….
well said Michael,
Very well said. There is no doubt that Potter lived for those moments of absolute freedom.
Disagree. Dean will never admit it – nor does the author here. But the fundamental reason that Dean pushed the limits is to please and appease sponsors into supporting his lifestyle. He knew it and had a good story for it – but that does not change the fact that he photographed and videoed his escapades so they could be sold to build the “Potter” brand. That is not inspiring – it is very sad.
Let me tell you what is inspiring – going out and living life – but above all else ensuring that you come home to your love ones and die of old age.
I can say, with confidence, that you’re in no place to judge a life you’ve most likely never had the chance to countenance. Like you said, going out and living your life is inspiring. Now, regardless of Dean’s motives (which I’m sure they’re far from a monetary gain of sorts), it’s hard to discredit his ability to follow his passions and undoubtedly inspire others.
I am pretty sure I have actually had the chance to countenance – even though I’m not entirely sure what you mean. I have personally met him several times and both climbing and other social situations. I have been a climber for over 25 years and have had many occasions to consider the risks and rewards of any given activity that he engaged. Can anyone honestly say they are surprised? I was surprised it took this long. I am still greatly saddened by it.
I did not mean he did what he did to get rich. He had sponsors and they would not provide him monetary support without the exposure he garnered by his exploits. Like I said – he would never admit it – but it is my strongly held opinion (like the author of this piece to which we are equally entitled) that he was on a trajectory that made this inevitable. And if there were no “market” for this – such as sponsors, magazine articles, blogs, etc…. to support his lifestyle – he would not have engaged in the activities to level that lead to his death. Without an audience there is no act. Whether he did it for money or “acceptance” or shock – he did these things and actively sought out documentation in the form of videos, witnesses, and photos – so he clearly wouldn’t be doing these things if nobody was watching – and there is the problem with putting him on a high pedestal.
Many people following him expected this to happen a lot sooner. It is very very sad. I find no inspiration there. I give you your point about his ability to follow his passion. I simply don’t think that illegally base jumping in the valley, trying to shoot a rock gap in a wingsuit, and leaving a huge mess for SAR to clean up, and a wake of mourning friends and family are activities that should be modeled.
I fully support peoples ability to base jump, solo, and slackline. Just jumping in the valley alone does more to damage the goal of opening up access to others to legally jump some day – for that you should be pissed at him if you are a jumper.
Wow those are ugly words
Thanks, Mike.
Dean might have been a hell of a guy, but I never met him, only saw his presence online. What I always think is strange is that in a situation like this if you say anything other than ‘he died doing what he loved’ or somthing similar, you are cast as a troll….why?
He may have had an interesting life with sponsors paying him to do crazy stuff, but all I can think about is the line from Josey Wales.
”Dying ain’t much of a living.”
Agreed – I don’t think it’s contradictory to be saddened by his (or any) death yet upset at the glorification of his lifestyle. He engaged in increasingly risky stunts in order to please sponsors and get hits on Youtube in order to pay for more stunts. Eventually it was likely to catch up with him, which is why Clif decided to drop him.
I personally feel that it’s irresponsible to glorify such risky behavior, which has no real payoff beyond the thrill of pushing the limits of safety (these guys aren’t discovering unknown continents, increasing our understanding of the universe, etc.). That’s not just on Dean – that’s on the people that use Dean’s stunts to sell lifestyle products.
Honestly, what’s the difference between Dean and Evil Knievel (sp?), beyond a star-spangled outfit?
Hearing of Dean’s death was a shock to me because I thought of him as indestructible, but clearly nobody is. I’ve been following his career for years with a mixture of admiration, awe, and worry. I loved watching his videos and interviews; he struck me as deeply thoughtful, utterly honest, and always true to himself in every way. Yet It seemed to me that there was always something troubling going on within him, too. Even Dean admitted that his obsessiveness was at times ‘nearly insane’. He reminded me of Dan Osman in some ways, in that unless he was filled with adrenaline and on the edge of disaster, painful depression would take over and drive him to the next ever-more-dangerous challenge. When true adrenaline addicts master a pursuit too fully, it loses the capacity to give them that jolt. They have to keep upping the ante. I’m afraid that wingsuit flying is one pursuit too far, and when there are children and others in your life who love you, it might be time to re-examine whether you really need to risk your life like this any more.