A Climber We Lost: Chris Gay
Each January we post a farewell tribute to those members of our community lost in the year just past. Some of the people you may have heard of, some not. All are part of our community.
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You can read the full tribute to Climbers We Lost in 2024 here.
James Christopher Gay, 39, October 15
Chris Gay and I were on Yosemite Search and Rescue (YOSAR) in Yosemite Valley together from 2019 through 2023. We spent half of our time on call, carrying pagers in exchange for a white canvas tent in Camp 4 and had everything we needed to live a simple life in the dirt. We lived without running water, without electricity, without being tied to a nine-to-five job, and we loved it. Every year, like the waterfalls that ebb and flow, returning in full force with the melting snow, we eagerly returned to the Valley—often arriving as early as March and staying as late as December. We shared a deep love for Yosemite and wanted to spend as much time as we could there while we had the privilege of living in paradise.
To many members of the local community, the traveling dirtbags and the weekend warriors, Chris was a fixture of Yosemite’s warmer seasons. His easily recognized white and yellow van was a comforting sight, providing reassurance that he was around.
On the afternoon of October 15, Chris told his friends at the Tuolumne Meadows Search and Rescue site that he was going out to free solo Hobbit Book, a 5.7 that he had soloed many times before. The following morning Chris’s body was found at the base of the slabs below the route.
“We lost a true brother, friend, mentor, inspiration, philosopher, super athlete, and goofball, one of the most wonderful, loving, and lovable people,” says Roddy McCalley, Chris’s longtime friend and climbing partner. “Filled with wonder for this world, Chris questioned everything and held himself to the highest standard. He could be serious, stoic, hard on himself at times, and at other times he could be the funniest, most playful, goofiest friend you could ever want to frolic in the mountains with.”

James Christopher Gay was born on January 7, 1985, in Virginia Beach, Virginia. He grew up playing all forms of hockey. The shared love of the sport amongst Chris and his teammates was the beginning of life long friendships. One of these life long friends, Kyle Riggin, recalls many fond memories from the “countless sleepovers, where we played video games until the sun came up,” to the tough times in life when Chris “gave me advice on how to get through what I was going through.”
“Chris was always a kind, caring, and dedicated person. He always made time for his friends.”
Chris attended Hylton High School, where his Government Humanities teacher, Randall Peterson, once described him (in a letter to his parents) as “a most enthusiastic and outgoing student.”
“Chris always had interesting and relevant questions, and always spoke in class with depth and a personal conviction that has always impressed me,” Peterson added. “Beyond Chris’s personal virtue, I admire his natural curiosity. We have often talked about books that we have read and the issues that face us … he is an outstanding young man that will go far, and be successful in all that he does.”
Chris did go far and found success during his adventurous life. He lived intentionally, choosing a path in life that aligned with his values, his aspirations, and his strong desire for love and community. After obtaining a degree in Political Science from Radford University, Chris moved to California, where he dove into many interests including yoga, acro-yoga, massage, surfing and climbing. He went so deeply into practices such as acro-yoga and Thai massage that he was soon teaching others. He traveled the world to festivals and trainings, always looking to meet new people and improve his skills.
Activities like these fed Chris’s playful spirit, but he was also a hard worker and became the manager at the O’Neill Surf Shop in Santa Cruz within three years. He spent his free time surfing in the ocean and climbing indoors at Pacific Edge. By the early 2010s, he was making weekend trips to Yosemite to climb. In 2015, he purchased his white and yellow van and courageously left the life he had built for himself in Santa Cruz to pursue his passion for rock climbing.

In Joshua Tree, Chris found a way to give back by volunteering, becoming one of the park’s first Climber Stewards and spending much of his free time working on trails, picking up garbage, and mapping illegal bolted anchors. During the 2016 and 2017 summer seasons, Chris worked as a Climber Steward in Yosemite, putting in well over 2,000 volunteer hours restoring access trails, cleaning up left-behind ropes and gear, monitoring the peregrine falcons that nest on the walls, and educating fellow climbers and park visitors about ecology, climbing routes, and Leave No Trace ethics.
During this time, Chris—the Tolkien nerd that he was—began a quest to climb all the routes in the park with names that refer to J.R.R. Tolkien’s writings. He was the “resident Tolkienologist” and would climb any Tolkien route no matter how obscure or dirty or adventurous. As he ticked off the established Tolkien routes, he added more by helping to establish Valinor (5.10d; 600ft), Andor (5.10b R; 500ft), and Elanor (5.7+ R; 400ft). In an interview with the Yosemite Conservancy, he called the experience of living and working in Yosemite, “a gift,” adding that, “Our collective open spaces have so much to teach us and have a capacity to heal.”
In June of 2019, Chris accepted a position on YOSAR. He spent six summers on the team, five in Yosemite Valley and one (this past summer) in Tuolumne Meadows. His deep familiarity with Yosemite was an asset to the team—as was his intentional character. When responding to incidents, Chris often reminded the team to slow down before engaging. On scene, he focused on calming patients, coaching them to focus on their breathing and reassuring them that they were safe. Over six years, Chris went on 179 incidents and worked 1,256 hours, helping to rescue and recover numerous visitors, including many climbers.

When he wasn’t on a rescue, Chris spent a lot of his time climbing. He made a point of climbing with every team member and found ways to support them in achieving their goals. Although achievement was not the biggest driving factor behind Chris’s climbing, he did set big goals for himself and worked hard to complete them. He took the necessary steps and gradually pushed bigger objectives. He climbed The Nose in a day or NIAD numerous times with many different partners, often leading the bottom block, improving his efficiency with every lap in order to go faster and faster. He teamed up with Camden Clements and climbed the El Cap/Half Dome link-up in a day. In June 2023 he and Matt Bernstein climbed two El Cap routes, The Nose and Lurking Fear, in one day. Later that season he focused on leading the top block of The Nose several times in preparation for a rope solo NIAD, which he achieved in August, in 23 hours 59 minutes.
Chris had a dream of one day climbing the Triple Crown, an incredible feat of endurance that involves climbing Yosemite’s three largest big walls–El Capitan, Half Dome, and Mt. Watkins–in a single day. He trained for and attempted the Triple with fellow YOSAR member, friend and climbing partner Nick Ehman. Nick remembers Chris, with all his experience climbing in the valley, as a mentor. Chris’s willingness to mentor Nick, his ability to break down big objectives into their component parts, and his confidence in his ability to do every part, helped Nick see that he could do those things too. Some of his favorite times with Chris were “big five star days of fun” simul climbing and soloing easier terrain: “At the top of a speed climb, Chris would often exclaim something like, ‘Can you believe we can do this?’” said Nick. “His awe of the experience was so genuine. He would elaborate that he didn’t think his climbing ability was anything special, yet he was able to climb in ways that he used to only dream about. It was like being woken up to the truth that we were in our dreams.”
Chris played hard but he rested harder. He enjoyed spending time in the social vortex often found at the SAR site. Many visitors to the site (and to Yosemite) remember Chris as the first person to welcome them and make them feel included. He was always looking out for other people’s needs. When the storms came, he was often the first member on the site to think of putting a tarp over the fire pit, keeping the communal space available. He would often throw a log on the fire late at night to keep the gathering going, and then minutes later disappear into the dark, silently retiring to his cabin. His cabin was tidy. He created a sort of Zen garden that he kept neatly raked. In the early spring and fall he would rake the leaves around the site and burn the piles while enjoying a warm coffee or tea. There can be a feeling of needing to “do something” while in Yosemite, but Chris reminded people that drinking coffee and being present with friends was doing something. Kicking a hacky sack around in a circle of friends was doing something.
Chris consistently worked on becoming more mindful and loving through practices such as playing the Shakuhachi, meditation, writing, and reading. He loved books such as Nonviolent Communication by Marshall B. Rosenberg and The Way of Zen by Alan Watts. He was dedicated to the process of self discovery and to cultivating healthy relationships. He enjoyed meaningful conversations, preferring one on one time. “He spoke in ways that showed authenticity to his heart,” his good friend Etel Spiteri said. He was honest, sometimes painfully so. Another friend, Sonia Peltzer, noted that: “Chris wasn’t someone who brushed things under the rug and sugar coated things, he really expressed all of his humanity; being authentic and really listening to himself.”
In the early 2020s, Chris picked up the Shakuhachi, a traditional Japanese bamboo flute used in Zen meditation and music. He would bring his Shakuhachi on both climbing adventures and rescues, using it to return to his breath and to provide peace to those around him. Chris’s journey with the Shakuhachi began with the blowing of Ro. One note played repeatedly—polish, polish, polish. Through many hours of practice his sound became wonderful. Chris was dedicated, taking online lessons and eventually traveling to Japan to study with his teacher in person. In an instagram post Chris wrote: “I am so utterly enthralled by this ‘instrument’ and the awareness it brings to my being. It offers such a subtle contemplation of the mechanics of the breath. “Honshirabe’ (the first meditation piece one typically learns) translates to something like ‘original tuning’ and suggests it’s not the Shakuhachi that is being tuned, but rather the practitioner.”

Chris was a good friend who felt like a brother to me. His support and love were immense. In his memory: Let your breath bring you back to the present moment, slow down and enjoy your coffee, lick the container of Bitchin’ Sauce clean, share a pint or two of pistachio ice cream with your friends, and—most importantly—remember to hug your loved ones tight.
Chris Gay is survived by his parents, Kathy and David Gay, III.; brother, David Gay, IV (wife, Emily Gay); brother, Matthew Leavy (wife, Kim Leavy); sister, Kathleen Leavy Robertson; sister, Barbara Gay Neel; brother, Dan Leavy (wife, Lisa Leavy); maternal grandmother, Grace Philipps; nephew, Kevin Leavy; niece, Madison Leavy; niece, Brooklyn Leavy; nephew, Tristen Taylor; aunts, uncles, cousins, and many friends.
We wish Chris safe passage on his journey to Valinor, J.R.R.Tolkien’s “land across the sea.”
You can read the full tribute to Climbers We Lost in 2024 here.