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Robb Gaffney

@robbgaffney

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This is me getting “Robbed” back in 2019.

Rǒbd, verb: 1. To be lured into something bigger than expected.
2. To experience something at a level you weren’t prepared for—or necessarily capable of—all under the guidance or encouragement of Robb Gaffney.

As much as my brother, Robb, loved his adventures and interactions with nature, he equally loved sharing those experiences with others. But there’s a caveat: he was the king of “it’s just around the corner” or “it’s not that steep” or “it won’t take that long” or “you totally got it.”I came up with a term for it years ago: getting Robbed. Anyone close to him has stories of being Robbed. He even Robbed our Mom on what was perhaps the last hike we all did together, foregoing the weaving trail through the forest for a more “rewarding” straightline to our objective, leaving an 85+ year old woman climbing over a pixie stick collection of massive fallen old growth trees.

In this photo, I was being doubly Robbed—we’d been skiing corn snow all day in the sun on the south side of this backcountry zone. Little did he know, he was likely already suffering the debilitating effects of Leukemia, but he still kicked my ass in the skin track and it was a longer day of touring than I’d anticipated (Robbed #1). Then, on the route back, he casually suggested we try this little chute he was familiar with that would take us in the right direction home. We’d come up from the back and I’d never seen it from any angle so I had no educated input. As we descended, it got steeper and steeper and progressively more icy. It would have been a cakewalk line in good snow, but this was the farthest thing from good snow. As we clawed our edges into the wall, it was then he chose to caution me with “Don’t fall”because it just so happened “we’re above a pretty big cliff.”

Robb gingerly navigated his way out and turned to shoot this photo of me absolutely gripped, inching my way down in unquestionably my scariest moment that entire season, deep in the throes of being Robbed.

Miss that guy. Happy Birthday, brotherman.

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3 years since the last day we saw each other. Missing you all the time. There’s so many experiences I’ve had that I want to share with you. I wish you could’ve been there for them. I love you so much Dad, the life you lived inspires me everyday.

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What I’d give to be able to cheers with this guy again.

Sorry to those who looked at my brother, Robb, in a different light—particularly those many people who have told me he literally saved their lives—but he was a dork. Or at least he fully embraced the dork within. He encouraged all to climb out of the confines of the box. Life is more fun and fulfilling that way. Which is why he also viewed G.N.A.R. not merely as juvenile debauchery, but as something meaningful and important.

I miss him and his valuable life lessons. It’s been three years since he left us…

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TBT to 2004: never before seen footage of pretty much exactly what you’d expect out of Shane McConkey’s bachelor party.

When Shane—and a handful of BASE jumper buddies—has a bunch of friends who have never jumped, what better way to spend a bachelor party than renting a houseboat and chucking the noobs off the bridges of Lake Pterodactyl for a couple of days?

As I remember it, most of us had to immediately follow up the beer funnel with the good old “place your forehead on the end of a baseball bat and spin around it half a dozen times” right before leaping. But it seems we let my brother, Robb, not take it quite to that level. Maybe because as a doctor of psychiatry he was pretty much the only one with a real job and had to maintain some level of professionalism?

Needless to say, good times were had and no one died.

But @miles_daisher , 22 years later you’re the only one in this video still with us (except for those in the boat). Keep it that way!

@shanemcconkeyfoundation @robbgaffney
#beerbongBASE
#remembergnarlycharlie

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Got out to one of my brother’s favorite alpine lakes yesterday. Less than a month after he was diagnosed with cancer in 2019, Robb brought my family out there because he needed to share this spot he loved and it isn’t all that easy to find. The only time I’d made it back since was during a ski tour with Robb and his son, Noah, in January 2022 while he was in remission (scroll for the winter pic).

It’s not only a beautiful lake, but it’s also conveniently a cliff hucking playground that Noah wanted to share with his buddy @bentthiem . Noah led us back out there, they sent, and I picked off a few clips with my RED camera. Another solid day in the Sierra.

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My big brother is 60 today. That sounds crazy to me.

Thank you, Steveman, for leading the way for your younger brothers. For showing us how to rip on the mountain, for introducing me to punk music, not beating me up too badly, only pumping the BB gun once before I sprinted across the lawn, showing me how to be a bit of a hooligan without getting caught (until I did), overcoming daunting challenges, and for leading by example in living a life full of real, diverse experiences. Thank you for your brilliance, generosity, the laughs, and the beauty you share with this world through your lens.

You’re the man and Robb and I were/are incredibly privileged to have you by our sides all the way.

Happy 60!!!

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Incredibly Rare/Rad Shot. 📷
Robb Gaffney & Scott Gaffney
(Alzy in the upper corner. Rob and Eric Deslauriers not shown)
Filming one Feb day in Donner backcountry circa '95 for The
11 Commandments and The
Walls of Freedom.
A different time indeed.....
K2 TNC's were long & stiff
Hi8 cameras ruled, helmets weren't a thing, and the internet didn't exist.❤️⛷️
31 YEARS flies by..Get out there and LIVE Life daily💯💪🙏🔥

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TBT to the last time I saw @robbgaffney in the mountains. It was an incredible comeback from long periods spent fighting for his life in hospitals over many years His cancer was in remission, and he took full advantage of his health with three runs on Mt Tallac.

If he could walk, he was outdoors. Sometimes I would see him so frail out there, but his smile and glow were always present, and I never heard him complain. Sadly, this was the last time I would see him in the mountains.

Cancer finally took him down a few months later.
It is yet another example that is not guaranteed.

Let go of the petty and send while you can!

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Flashback Friday to a day in 2003(?) when my brother, Robb, decided he wanted to make the Palisades’ iconic straightline, Schmidiots, just a little bit scarier.

#noteveryturnisasignofweakness

📷 Chris Ondercin, as seen in @freeskiermagazine

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I wanted to grab a couple of shots of my brother, Robb, this morning in remembrance of losing him to cancer on this day two years ago…and I got sucked into a serious wormhole of images and emotions.

Here’s a pretty random collection of what I stumbled across. Damn, I miss that guy.

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TBT: Robb Gaffney, Ski Big Tupper, NY, 1985(?).

In his prime years in Tahoe and on the slopes of Berthoud Pass, Colorado, my younger brother, Robb, was regarded (some even say “revered”) as one of the smoothest skiers out there.

While others—like myself—had to work on our form, even as a grom, Robb just oozed style. He simply skied and flowed and effortlessly made sliding down a mountain—and flying above it—look so natural.

This shot doesn’t look like much in today’s world, but then consider the place and era: we skied at a small mom and pop mountain on the east coast. We hadn’t yet discovered ski movies or magazines. We didn’t have ski heroes to emulate. We didn’t even have many outsiders passing through. We only had the older local rippers to look up to. But oddly enough, most of Big Tupper’s older rippers looked up (or down) to a much younger little kid who made it all look too easy: Robb.

Here, 15 or 16 year-old Robb launches Big Tupper’s Kangaroo Jump, simply skiing the way that felt right to him. And it was damn near perfect.

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Beautiful Sierra🩷

And some old photos of my dad because I was looking through my camera roll missing him.

1st is his first time touching the lake after not being able to in over a year because of his treatments. Such an awesome moment.
2nd was our little scramble up a peak in the southern Sierra—nice view of Mount Whitney in the back.

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