Outside Magazine
They Were Moms, Skiers, and Adventurers. Why the Tahoe Avalanche Tragedy Feels Different
February 26, 2026
Long after the speakers had concluded their remarks, and more than half of the mourners had walked to the nearby Church of the Mountains, I lingered. There was something about the footprints disappearing in the powder dusting the sidewalks, the heaps of dirty snow that the kids tried to conquer like Everest, and dogs nearly my size scratching their backs on a tiny patch of ice that resonated with me.
At first, I tried to comfort anyone directly impacted by the avalanche. I lost both my mother and brother to the same disease before I turned 21, and hoped to share the lessons about grief I’ve learned traveling the world. But the crowd had thinned to mostly those who forgot to bring gloves but didn’t mind that temperatures were dropping rapidly that night from 37 degrees Fahrenheit to 28. Like me, many had not personally known the backcountry skiers but had survived similar adventures that had pushed us out of our comfort zones, and in some cases, gone wrong.
