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Old 07-09-2005   #51
Join Date: Feb 2005
Posts: 57
I olny had the pleasure of meeting Max once when i was 16. It was at the Gore race, and me and the rest of the jr. cksquad that showed up had no idea who he was and just enjoyed his company. Ill never forget that weekend passing around a bottle of vodka and being dared to take my colths off. I miss you chunderboy and all the simple things you could say to get people fired up.
Peace out,
Conor Finney
Frontrangers suck

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Old 07-09-2005   #52
Join Date: Jul 2005
Posts: 1
From the time we met our freshmen year in high school you have provided me with so much laughter. You alone made boarding school a fun experience (yes chunderboy went to boarding dschool). You have been like my brother since then. We could scream at each other and laugh in the same sentence. People were always horrified to see the way we talked to each other, becuae we really could not hurt each others feelings.
Just a couple stories about max-
He went to boston college because the dead had a big east coast fall tour- about 25 shows between the boston garden and MSG- so that made his decision of where he would go to college. then he got sick of boston and moved back to NYC where he was playing alot of video games and did not leave his place much other to trade dead tapes. I said move to colorado if you not going to school- have fun outside. He sent all his stuff to my house in fort collins and moved into my sisters trailer in steamboat. the first time he went skiing with me he had rented gear and when I got to the bottom he had taken his boots off and was sitting at sundown lift and said my feet are killing me I can't do this, this sucks. Who knew he would turn out to be such a daredevil athlete. Years later I would visit him in steamboat and he would tell me I wasn't a bad skier for a front range gaper. 2 years ago he moved to boulder to finish his education and I was blessed to see him all time. Most recently after graduating college he got a job selling tubes on Boulder creek- which he called the "best job in Boulder" he had a tent set up, a barbecue going, beers, george and archie running around, and lots of hot chicks in bikini's needing tubes. Well max you went out large doing what you loved with a billionare's view of aspen, the best job in boulder, and more friends than you could ever imagine. I will miss you so much. Love, Erika

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Old 07-09-2005   #53
Join Date: Jul 2005
Posts: 7
memorial for Max

To everyone-
There is a memorial and party being planned in Steamboat on Saturday July 16th. It will be at 12:00(high noon) at the C-hole on the Yampa. Afterwards there is a huge party at Casa Gigante at 425 Yahmonite Street. Please everyone come, already people are planning on flying and driving in from Tahoe, all parts of Montana, and thefrontrange.

Call or contact Dave Maris at 970-870-0515 or Cara/Dave Marrs at 970-870-0153.

Please, anyone who loved Max or had just met him once, try and come if you can. We will post more details soon.
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Old 07-09-2005   #54
Golden, Colorado
Join Date: Apr 2004
Posts: 831
I saw Max at the top of Gore a few years ago. I knew of Chunderboy but didn't know this was him in the flesh until some time later.

I remember that meeting vividly because I thought it was very hilarious for a complete stranger to be telling me about how his mom helped him wipe his butt after he broke his neck. I could tell that he was a good kind of nut. I'm sure his friends and family will miss him much.
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Old 07-09-2005   #55
Join Date: Jul 2005
Posts: 1
Maxers...Damn it! It really has hit me tonight that you're gone. We had some fun times. I can't remember the first time we met, but I know I liked you from the beginning. You were such a prankster and could scam your way into any situation...I think we bonded because of this. I always loved how you would wear your Staff t-shirt into shows pretending like you worked there to weasel in for free. I learned some good tricks from you Maxers. I was so bummed to have lost touch with you after you moved back home... and so psyched when we got reconnected this winter. It was awesome having you back in my life as a friend Max, and you now know how much you were loved and will be missed by all who knew you. You lived your life "to the Max", and I can still hear your voice yelling "Klempy!" Love you.
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Old 07-10-2005   #56
Phin Diesel's Avatar
Castle Rock, Colorado
Join Date: Oct 2003
Posts: 35
I first met Max on the river one day. We came up to Gore rapid and there was this kid telling everyone to run the meat line, (as he carried his boat)…he was full of life telling some poor eastern boater who was listening how to run it right down the gut. The funniest line I have ever seen in Gore took place about two minutes later. This poor eastern guy (who may have tried the sneak anyway) got tossed around in Ginger and bounced off decision rock in a full on bow stall before again flipping and pogo-ing down Gore. He made it just fine but we had the biggest laugh down at the take out where Max shared his beers with us. I was a complete stranger to him and here he was sharing his beer and offering to take me back to get my car because we didn’t run shuttle.
After several minutes of great conversation Jesse pointed out that I had been talking to Chunderboy the whole time. I couldn’t believe it.
The next week all of my friends were at Gore fest and I saw Max, I invited him over or more likely he just came over and the next thing I know we were passing around a plastic bottle of Skol Vodka (thanks Finney or which ever CKS teenager brought that crap). Nobody could believe this was Chunderboy…Later that night around 4:00 am I was up to use the restroom. I first saw Max’s dog George (I think) covered in burrs and dirt running around, then I looked over and saw Max sleeping under the stars near the campfire that had burned out long ago. No tent, no blanket, just sleeping away on the ground.
Many times later I ran in to Max at some of those kayak party’s that the Buzz sometimes puts on, I still have one of his dumb stickers “”. He was always full of life.
I truly believe my life was richer for briefly getting to know Max, I wish I could have gotten to know him better.
I was out at a bar Friday night and I made all of my friends raise a PBR in honor of Max.
I miss you, and this forum will never be the same without you….
Patrick Phinney
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Old 07-10-2005   #57
Join Date: Oct 2003
Posts: 416
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Hey all:

I was saddened when I heard the news. I didn't know max super well, but I met him at gore, and I felt that if you would give that man a microphone, and a stage.... he'd go huge.... Never laughed so hard in my life..... Great guy.....Great for him to do new extreme sports, and pass on to the next life, doing what He was passionate about......

BEn Guska
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Old 07-10-2005   #58
Join Date: Jul 2005
Posts: 7
It took me until today to even read all of these posts from Max's friends around the country. We have lost one of our closest and most cherished friends. Our world is never going to quite heal from Max's demise. I am devastated by our loss yet thrilled that he has made the same impression upon all of you as he did to us.
Max was a regular visitor to our home in Steamboat, although the Westies spent more time here than he did. He always had to make his rounds, seeing where the best action was developing. Max and the King of Beers made sure that someone would be offended at some point.
I spent many days on the mountain with Max. He may not have had the smoothest 3's, but damn they were always the biggest. No respect from the kid until you were sacking up and pushing it. This attitude was obviously instilled in his paddling; swimming was always an option, but backing down rarely was.
Never forget his smile, his laugh, his love for pushing it. He loves you all and would expect nothing less than a celebration of his antics as well as his accomplishments.
Please come to Steamboat on Saturday and be a part of Max's farewell.

-Little D in Steamboat
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Old 07-10-2005   #59
Join Date: Jul 2005
Posts: 7

The outpouring of support and love for Max is absolutely amazing, but of course not hard to believe. This includes all of the phone calls and emails that have been circulating from people all over. He was truly loved.

He could never have imagined the huge whole in our hearts that is left in his abscence. What we do have are all of our personal memories.. hold on to them. We are thinking of his family, while we try and dare think of the future without Max, its unacceptable really. I keep thinking he is going to call and say that he can't believe that everyone fell for this rumor or that its just a bad dream.

love you, Cara
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Old 07-10-2005   #60
Join Date: Oct 2003
Posts: 120
The man, the legend, an inspiration to all those who knew him not to be content with the status quo. Every day was an adventure with this kid. Guns blazing till the end, a damn paragliding wingover finally got him. Perhaps a move he most likely shouldn’t have been trying, but this was the theme of the story.
The first time I met the kid was paddling a raging Upper Fish Creek in Steamboat. I had never seen someone so gripped, Max’s face was contorted in such terror that upon looking at him Brendon and me could not help but to burst into laughter. “You don’t have do this bro, maybe you should just do the lower stretch”. No dude, that stretch is bitch, I got this shit, but what the fuck is next! We were laughing so hard we couldn’t even stay upright. Neither of us had seen such brazen determination in spite of such fear. This was Sully. His face twisted into such a look that you might have thought one of his fingers was being removed by a cigar cutter. I began zooming my photo’s in on his contorted face as we paddled the shit. I had a nice collection going before Max offered to buy me ten roles of film if I handed over the agonized expressions to be destroyed. Unfortunately for max I am not an honest businessman and a few photos managed to survive the purging.
When we took out at the Back Door Sports parking lot, Max promptly headed over to a group that had only done the lower section to call theme all bitches and ask why they had not nutted up for the upper. Fuck we liked this kid.
The Chunder Posse had been formed. With the help of an Irish Drunk, An obsessive Mad Banker, Mo Bigs, El Gigaunty, Fat Jus10, Lazy Kevin and immature Billy the Chunder posse soon dominated the Colorado Creeking World. Other boaters who knew we were showing up told there girlfriends to go home and tucked there tails like a dog whose owner is a little to rough. Not only did we paddle every drop in this damn state, but we also outlasted and out drank any crew that had the audacity to step up.
Soon simply running more shit and partying harder than any crew in the state was not sufficing, we needed something more. Mo Bigs had stumbled onto paint balling and Sully soon enforced the rule that no one was above getting hit. We became master of the silent art of slingshot balling. Soon pink splatters began appearing on windows everywhere. During one daring daylight raid of a Boise Idaho crew, paintballs were launched across the river at an unsuspecting crew of playboating scum unloading their vehicle. As the crew jumped in the river and began swimming towards us they were pummeled with a rain of paintballs so fierce that visions of mid-evil archery battalions were brought to mind. When they finally reached our bank the scums cursing echoed off the canyon walls as our cars sped away.
As the brightest stars have the shortest lifespan so did the Chunder Posse. The crew went supernova at the 2001 Gore Fest. Charlie Beavers was knighted into the Posse and a scene of utter mayhem and terror was to follow. For three days there would be no sleep. Those who slept were awakened by the cry of “Temporary Bitches!” and the ensuing “Whap” that followed, as the late Beavers and Sully slung ball from the roof of the moving jet-black Tacoma. The heaviest casualties of the battle were suffered by despicable Teva Crew. There propensity for loud conversations at 7 in the morning, going to bed early and trying to buy us off by giving us cheap ass sandals brandished them a target as big as there obnoxious television. When the sun finally rose in the morning all vehicles with the Teva logo had been transformed into a horrible shade of pink.
Wanted by the law for the illegal use of roman candles and hunted by hoards of pink vehicles the crew had to disband. An idea was soon hatched and the biggest scam in the history of paddling soon followed. With the help of Max’s upbringing as a nitrous oxide salesmen at dead shows we were able to convince Paddler magazine to hire us as its West Coast Paddling Ambassadors. Paddler magazine was to pay for our trip as we toured the west coat distributing magazines and stickers at various whitewater festivals. Our first stop was the California Methamphetamine capital of Kernville and a worthless playspot around which a rodeo had been organized. Max had the brilliant insight that by simply setting up the tent and weighting down magazines and stickers with rocks, people could still get this shit and more importantly we could free ourselves up for more important things like running dry meadow. We even found out at the end of a remarkable day of running waterfalls that the nice people around the rodeo were willing to help us out on our mission by picking up our tent when the wind had blown it across the park.
Paddler Magazine had its new West Coast ambassadors but we were not content with simply one coast. We soon convinced paddler magazine that they needed us to attend the Gauley festival. Riding the high of having yet another paid paddling trip and being one of the badest fuckers in the game, Max’s state of euphoria overwhelmed his sense of judgment as he paintballed a drivers side window of van you would not want your girlfriend to get into. The large man driving the van did not look happy and proceeded to follow us for over 100 miles at no further than 5 feet off the rear bumper. I attempted many moves to lose our pursuant even going so far as to cut in front of a semi to hit a last second exit ramp. Unfortunately, by locking up his brakes and cutting off the traffic behind the semi, the van also made the exit. As the gaslight light up, Max proceeded to tell me all his sins since middle school as a last minute confession in case this man killed him. Lucky for us the man was probably a convicted felon and having decided to pull into a gas station were a police officer sat, the man miraculously kept driving.
They loved Max out east and before long we had a host of hot chicks rolling with slingshots and paintballs lighting up the streets of Ashville. The pimp and ho party had never seen such pimps. The trip was going flawlessly until being arrested for roman candle battles at the Gauley campground and then being kicked out of the campground when a grease bomb happened to go off while the officer was questioning the neighbors about the roman candle incident.
Max’s humor and wit could not be matched. After putting one lovely young woman in stitches for hours max slyly convinced her to write a glowing letter to Paddler magazine about what wonderful ambassadors we were. The letter would later be published in an issue of Paddler.
Sully knew that life was about living every day like it’s your last. At the height of his creek running days he was running shit that few paddlers wanted pieces of. His main downfall here though, was that a good portion of it was not in his boat. At the height of his game, for lack of better words, max amassed fifteen swims in one season, 14 of which were on class five or higher. The guy swam through Tombstone Sieve on Lake Creek, he swam Cherry Creek in Cali at 3000 cfs and the entire length of the Nutcracker on the North Fork of the Payette. He had so many swims that he confided in me a secret. “It’s fucked up Bro” he said, “I look at a rapid and I see the line to boat and then I look for a good swim line”. I can say I’ve met boaters better than the chunderboy, but I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone with more heart than that damn kid!
Four years after breaking his neck kayaking and being told he probably wouldn’t walk, Max was back at it again, he would paddle Gore with the exception of Gore Rapid because he could not bring himself to run the sneak. Front Rangers whom he told he would shove a paddle up there ass loved it when they found out he’d been seen walking, cause it made them feel better about there own feeble paddling. When Max came to visit me this winter I was amazed that this kid was still throwing the huge backside 360’s he’d been famous for in the Steamboat and Squallywood terrain parks. When he caught his front edge going down a bump run at 50 plus mph he scorpioned so hard he said it hurt to lie down. He said his ribs in his back really hurt and wondered if he’d broken them. I told him there was no way you can break your ribs back their cause there so thick. Sure enough, when he went to the doctors three days later that’s just what he’d done. He scorpioned so hard that his board broke his ribs.
If we were smart we would have all invested in Max’s life insurance policy when Max took up paragliding. Continually pushing the limits and paragliding are not a good combo. No one was thrilled with the idea of Sully paragliding but Max assured us he wasn’t pushing it and was being very conservative in the sport. Stopping Max from doing something is like trying to stop the tide, so we all had to hope the Chunderboy could put aside his all guns blazing past and pace himself here. He called me every other week to tell me how awesome his new sport was. He was so fired up about it every time I talked to him, telling me how far his last flight was and how I had to get one so we could get up in the air together. I would have liked that.
My only reason to ever want to grow old would be to sit around and tell stories of the gloriest past with the likes of the chunderboy. I can’t believe I’ll never be able to hear another one of his tales, to laugh my ass off as he roasted front rangers and myself on the buzz, to be subjected to the supreme wit of the chunderboy. I’m just thankful that I got to spend as much time laughing with him as I did. Those where the best days of my life bro and you’ll always be in my heart. May it be as big as yours someday, and may we all live each day like it’s our last. We love you Sully.

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