“his voice lifted all of us lucky to be with him”
Bill was a true inspiration to me. Athletically he was a monster — an amazing skier, tireless climber, and fearless biker. He always seemed to push out front to find and break trail in the deep snow. He led us places I never would imagine I’d go. Following Bill’s tracks was usually a blast (with a few miserable, but thankfully not deadly exceptions). As a musician he was talented and totally collaborative. The nightly jams we had in huts all over Colorado above 11,000 ft. were some of the best musical experiences I’ve ever had. One year he donated his guitar to the Fowler-Hilliard Hut in Colorado because they didn’t have one. I thought there should be some documentation or mythology around this generous act, so I wrote a poem for the hut logbook. When Bill died in 2018 I knew I had to write a song for his memorial and remembered I had photographed the poem in the log. Will Cooter was his band and musical nom de plume.— I don’t know where he got the name but he wore it well.
