‘Grief doesn’t bend’: professional big mountain skier Hadley Hammer on moving forward past loss

For the past five years, Hadley Hammer has fought to stay above water. Only now, looking back, can she admit how intense the past half-decade has been.

In April 2019, Hammer’s then-partner, professional alpinist David Lama, died in an avalanche. A month later, Sam Coffey, an ex-boyfriend, died unexpectedly from a series of strokes. Shortly afterwards, her father was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. She then moved to Europe, tore her ACL, endured strict pandemic lockdowns, and just as she was recovering, her father passed away. Two months later, her good friend and mentor, Hilaree Nelson, died in an avalanche in Nepal.

“I tried to keep my skiing career going,” says Hammer, “while I figured out what it all meant.”

It’s fair to say that Hammer, 38, has suffered more losses than most people do in a lifetime. “The average person’s life goes through these periods.” says Hamer. “You meet the love of your life, get married, have children, see your parents grow old and die. That all happened to me in five years. I surfaced briefly and was pulled back down. I never admitted how hard it was or I would have lost it. Only now, with the help of therapists, friends and writing, can I look back on it.”

This season, Hammer, a professional big mountain skier, is optimistic that skiing will be fun again. “When I think of my happy times, it’s in the backyard with my brothers, skiing off the roof, stealing construction materials to build rails, jumping off everything. I want the sport to be a refuge from the game. I want it to be about discovery and fun.”

Hammer grew up in Jackson, Wyoming, and his earliest memories are of exploration. The vast landscapes of the western US demand it, she says. “You can see for miles. It gives you the feeling of endless exploration and the realization of how small you are. The Tetons aren’t the greatest range, but they’re almost empty, so you feel alone against those granite walls. That is woven into who I am.”

Now one of the wealthiest small towns in the US, Jackson has changed significantly in the thirty years since her childhood. In the 1990s it was a mix of farmers and ski bums, with a small and close-knit community working together to thrive in a cold, windy and harsh climate. “We were all in it together. Every parent took care of every child,” says Hammer, “and the mountains were our playground.”

With supportive parents and two athletic brothers, Hammer learned to push her limits early on. “We’re not a traditional family,” Hammer says. “My mother doesn’t cook and we didn’t sit down to eat, but my parents were always there for us.” After learning to ski at the age of two, Hammer grew up chasing her brothers around Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, a skiing mecca.

After graduating, Hammer competed on the Freeride World Tour and after initially struggling, she eventually made a name for herself. In 2013, Hammer landed a sponsorship deal with The North Face, which took her around the world to ski high peaks in Bolivia, Argentina, Alaska and Norway. In 2016, she landed her first segment in a major ski movie, landing her on the biggest stage. But the high didn’t last long.

In July, Matilda Rapaport, a fellow big mountain skier, died in an avalanche. Rapaport and Hammer were quiet, kind and smart and had similar personalities, so the news hit hard. Hammer’s grief would come and go, foreshadowing the years to come. Four years later, in 2020, after Lama passed away, Hammer moved to Innsbruck, Austria, to be closer to his friends and family.

“I had to reorient myself to the world,” Hammer says. “It was the perfect place to do that. European life is gentler than American life. Society is slower.” The change of pace and sense of newness gave Hammer a fresh start. In 2022, she took the opportunity to move to Chamonix, France, the birthplace of big mountain skiing, where she continued her mountain career and started a new film project.

However, big mountain skiing requires a unique, almost obsessive focus. “Winter is short, so you always have to be focused on training, performing and filming, which doesn’t leave much time for the fun aspects of the sport,” says Hammer, who hopes to do things differently this season.

“Skiing at its purest is one of the few ways to play as an adult,” says Hammer. “A big part of life is work and taxes, so it’s important to find moments of relaxation.” After five years submerged in grief, Hammer plans to prioritize lightness this winter. Powder days with friends, soulful treks in the backcountry and meeting new skiers alongside hard-working professionals are high on her list of goals.

That’s not to say that the sadness and grief from her past have completely disappeared. “The wounds never go away, but you can grieve and still be happy,” Hammer says. “Sadness makes your lows much lower and your highs much higher.” Hammer’s life is defined by a rollercoaster of highs and lows, which she has learned to accept, rather than try to control. “If you try to control the mess, it just doesn’t work.”

In many ways, Hammer has the mountains to blame—and thank—for these lessons. “If you try to climb a mountain, you can’t move the tree or go through a rock, even if it’s up the most obvious way. You have to work with those obstacles, not plow through them,” she says. “That’s what I do with my life. Sadness does not bend. People talk about going through it, but it doesn’t work that way. You have to work with it, work around it and move with it to find a way through it.

This winter, Hammer hopes to balance high-adrenaline descents with playful powder turns. “Right now I’m just happy to see what ends up on my plate and what doesn’t. I don’t force anything. I just keep my eyes open to see what’s in front of me. Whatever comes is a gift and you must accept those gifts.”