You can read the full tribute to Climbers We Lost in 2023 here.

Ephraim Leo Cook, 25, May 24

Ephraim Cook and his twin brother, Heber, were born on December 14, 1997, into a family full of music. His mother, Sarah, plays the cello. His father, Blaine, sings in the Tabernacle Choir in Salt Lake City. Two of his three sisters play the guitar. And both Ephraim and Heber made music a big part of their lives. Yet Ephraim was also outdoorsy from the start. His parents, devout mormons, often took the family camping, particularly up to Pineview Reservoir. Later, as a Boy Scout, Ephraim made his first visits to Zion National Park, a place that would later loom large in his climbing life, which began in high school alongside his friend Zac Pond.

“He was my first proper climbing partner,” Pond remembers. “Spring break one year, in high school, we bought a rope and a rack of quickdraws, and I had a camper trailer for my truck, and we drove down to St. George and spent ten days there, just sampling crags. Honestly, that trip set me on my life path.”

“Ephraim had that attribute that everyone’s always looking for in a climber partner,” remembers Pond. “He was always down, willing to get stoked on whatever, even if it was arguably over his head. He was just down to get after it.”

Just a few weeks after doing his first trad lead, for instance, when Ephraim was still maxing out on 5.11- sport routes, Pond pointed at Smash Mouth, a hard, scary, four-pitch 5.11+ gear route in Zion National Park, and Ephraim was like, “Why not?”

“He was a new trad climber,” Pond remembers, “and he was climbing near his physical limit, but he onsighted multiple of the pitches. It was a great experience. It was just super fun. And there were so many other times like that.”

One time in Indian Creek, for instance, as they hiked back to the car from Supercrack Buttress in the dark, totally worked, Pond joked that Ephraim should hop on 3AM Crack, a sustained, 115-foot hand crack. “It was eight o’clock in the evening in the middle of December, but Eph was immediately like, ‘OK.’ No hesitation.”

He was also outgoing and personable. “He had this really natural ability to connect with people,” says Pond. “A lot of people say this, but this was so true for Ephraim. He’d meet climbers that I’ve been climbing with for years, and within a day he’d connect with them as well or better than I had. He was just so likable. He loved people. And people definitely loved him back.”

While climbing became the central organizing principle in Pond’s life, Ephraim was always searching for more, also devoting his time to skiing, music, and travel. He was also, for instance, the captain of his high school football team, a born leader and extrovert, who went out of the way to make his teammates feel valued and supported. After graduating, Ephraim (who grew less “churchy”—as his brother Heber put it—in later years) served a two-year mission for the Church of Latter-Day Saints in Northwestern Brazil, an experience that he described as “special as f**k.” Returning home and realizing that college wasn’t for him, Ephraim traveled widely and took many jobs, oscillating between his many passions. One moment he’d be in Wyoming working lifts at Jackson hole; the next he’d be in the Virgin Islands working as a kayak guide (which was where he met Rudilac).

“He had so many jobs,” Pond remembers. “In the course of my first year or two in grad school, I think he bounced between like ten jobs, and they were all over the place. He was really hard to keep track of.”

Throughout it all, he pursued his music. Ephraim had an amazing voice, but he also played the guitar very well, wrote songs, rapped, and danced. “His whole body was a musical instrument,” Heber told KSL News shortly after Ephraim’s death. “He was on his way to be famous.”

(You can listen to some of Ephraim’s music here.)

“I think he was trying to figure out all the other logistics that go into being a successful musician,” Pond said. “But he didn’t have the time. One of the saddest feelings I have looking back over all this is that, I mean, Eph was such a good guy, and he had so much potential to live a really full life, and he bounced around between all these different things searching for it, but he didn’t quite have enough time to find it all. I mean, he had great experiences, and he lived a great life, but he had a lot of potential to lead a really great life going forward far into the future. It’s almost the definition of ‘taken too soon.’”

Ephraim passed away on May 24 after taking a 75-foot fall off Outside Corner,  a classic 3-pitch 5.7 in Big Cottonwood Canyon, and hitting several ledges on the way down.

“It’s not entirely clear what went wrong,” Pond said. “The belay stance for the pitch Ephraim fell on is inside a little alcove, so Ephraim’s girlfriend [who was belaying] had no view of him for most of the climb. Based on the ledges that he hit, and the pieces that were in the wall, my best guess for what happened is that he made it through the difficult section, placing a reasonable amount of gear, then got up into the easier terrain, where there’s unobvious options for gear, and decided to run it out quite a bit. I don’t know why he fell once he was up there, whether a small foothold broke or he just happened to slip. But the pitch trends rightward up high, and this moves you over ledgy terrain, and when he fell roughly 75 feet, which put him a good way below where the start of the pitch was, he hit a number of those ledges.”

Ephraim is survived by his parents, Sarah and Blaine; his three sisters, Alashtay, Whiteley, and Amelia; his brother, Heber; and his girlfriend, Sarah—all of whom remember him as wildly funny, and personable, and loving.

“He was outrageously funny,” Heber remembers. “His impressions could make people laugh for hours on end. That’s something we’re going to miss.”

“He loved so hard,” his sister Whiteley said to KSL, “he cared so much, and everyone who knew him absolutely adored him. He’s just so good.”