Kris Dressler and I met in the summer of 2001.  We were both assistant coaches for the U19 rowing team that was going to compete at the U19 Championships in Duisberg, Germany.  We new each other professionally as he was an assistant coach at the University of Wisconsin and I was the assistant coach at the University of Washington.  But our interactions at races were cursory and respectful. I don't think any of our conversations at races were more than, "hey!  How's it going?"  No deep exchanges, to say the least.  

In the first few days of meeting each other at camp in Philadelphia, it became obvious that Kris and I could be friends for a long time.  Our personalities jibed and we would spend evenings on the roof of the dormitory listening to music and talking about whatever we wanted.  Kris's zeal for life was infectious and he wanted to learn as much as he could along the way.  With this zest for learning, he also was a great teacher.  15 years later, he would be teaching math at the University Wisconsin in the Engineering Department.  If it wasn't for Kris, the summer of 2001 would have been miserable, but those reasons are for another time. 

Duisberg, Germany was a medium sized town in western Germany in the Ruhr Valley.  The sport complex we stayed at housed the athletes and it not only had a rowing course that was man made after WWII (2250 meters long), but it also had fields and gymnasiums for many sports (soccer, Volleyball, Handball, etc.).  

When Kris and I didn't have practice, we wandered around and watched other teams practice.  One, because we were board out of our minds, and two to quench Kris' curiocity about other sports and how the "Germans" instructed their athletes. We hoped to gain some wisdom from our foreign counterparts. 
In one instance at a soccer practice, the coach continually shouted to the young athletes, "UBERSTEIGER...  UBERSTEIGER" as they did a drill.  We thought, "Hmmm, I wonder if the drill was Ubersteiger."  

The athletes then moved to another soccer drill and the coach continually yelled, "Ubersteiger, Ubersteiger,"  Nope...  Maybe the term has to do with speed or agility.  

Regardless of the activity or drill, the coach yelled "Ubersteiger" over and over and with the amount of German I knew (which wasn't much) and how much Kris knew (which was a scoash more than me) we couldn't for the life of us figure out what Ubersteiger meant.  

***. Point of reference, google didn't exist at the time and all we had was a German/American dictionary to try and figure out the term.  Which proved futile.

Side note ***Obersteiger is a term for the foreman in a mine...  But how does that correlate into something in soccer.  Confusion ensued. 

Back in our dorm room Kris and I mused at length about the possible meaning of "Ubersteiger" and what this German coach could possibly mean by the term.  But really, the conversation turned into us joking and bantering about the word and our interpretations immediately went straight into the gutter.

The next day at practice, Kris on his Red bike and me on my Blue bike went out to follow our respective teams at practice.  We had walky talky's to not only to coach our boats, but also to talk amongst ourselves.  Somehow, and we both don't know how it happened, we created call signs and became Ubersteiger Rot (Kris), Red is Rot in German and Ubersteiger Blau (Fred) which is Blue is in German.  On the Bike path we would call each other like truckers.
"Ubersteiger Rot, Ubersteiger Rot, this is Ubersteiger Blau, come in..."  The response, would be some broken German word or phrase.  This went on for the rest of our time in Germany and we thought it was hysterical.

After a few days of this, and our athletes still not sure what to make of their two seemingly...  Actually crazy coaches. one came up to Kris and asked what we meant by "Ubersteiger." Hoping to get some deep inner meaning to make his boat faster.  Ubersteiger Rot, rolled his eyes at the athlete and smugly said, "I have no idea."  And walked away.

As I said, Ubersteiger Rot and I spent most days and nights together in a smallish Dorm Room in Philadelphia and then an even smaller Dorm Room in Germany.  And although we were having fun and working well together, too much time together in small places can test even the strongest friendships.  

One evening Ubersteiger Rot and I got into a heated argument. To this day, neither of us can remember the specifics of what the argument was about, but it was heated and anyone who was within a 500 meter radius (maybe more) was well aware that we both were not happy with each other.  The head coach came to our room to try and calm us down, but Kris who stood 6'8 (200 cm) and me at 6'4 (195cm) quickly exited the room when he saw that his 5'10 (155 cm) frame was no match and his words were futile against our ire towards one another. After a few choice words, I stormed out of the room and headed out for a walk into Downtown Duisberg.  

As luck would have it, there was a festival going on with German Music, numerous kiosks that had trinkets, food and beverages from the region, it was festive and lively.  After an hour or so of wandering around at the festival, I sat at a Kiosk and ordered a sausage and a "Lemonade".  

My frustrations with Ubersteiger Rot became a distant memory as I sat and became immersed in the festive nature of this event.  The laughing of the people, the music of the region and a few "lemonades" calmed me.  It was magical.

I continually gazed around the festival from my perch watching the locals and living vicariously through the fun they were having with their family and friends.  I looked left and then right and as I did I saw a familiar face across from me at my Fortress of Solitude for the evening.  It was Ubersteiger Rot!  He hadn't seen me yet and at first I glared at him.  But in a moment of clarity and calm, I extended my right arm and elevated my middle finger and smiled the biggest smile I could produce.  I was willing to hold the posture for as long as it would take for him to see me.  After a few moments, Ubersteiger Rot caught my gesture and began to laugh his signature baritone laugh.  

We smiled at each other and he came around to where I was perched and we hugged and laughed the rest of the evening.  All was forgotten and this formed a lasting friendship for years to come.  

We lost Ubersteiger Rot yesterday to Cancer.  I use WE because I wish you all had the opportunity to meet him.  

His personality was bigger than life.  All who met and knew him loved his quirky personality, infectious love for life and his deep baritone laugh.  

More to the point, he was a great friend of 21 years who I have many great experiences and stories.  

He loved my kids as if they were his own and loved coming to Steamboat to ski and share the mountain lifestyle with us and his family.  

I hope you all in the present or future have a friend like Uberstieger Rot who could make you laugh and could empathize and show great compassion in times of need.

I shall miss my great friend.

Mourning a loss comes in many ways, and this is my way to mourn my great friend.  I thank you all for your attention.