Long-time Eldora resident Tim Hannon died August 16, 2024, at Boulder Community Hospital after an extended illness. He was born in Anderson, Indiana, on May 20, 1951, to Donald and Ruth (McClain) Hannon.
Tim didn’t lead a life that is easily encapsulated in an obituary. His life’s work was loving the mountains and the plants and animals that lived there, which he did very well.
Tim’s parents hoped he would attend college or work in a factory. But Tim did not want either of those things. He wanted to be free, outside, and experiencing the world with all of his senses—a big dream for a kid from a town where few people shrugged off middle class responsibilities. In early adulthood, Tim spent a few years bouncing around the world, looking for his place. He discovered it when he rolled into Nederland in the early 1980s. The vibe, the people, and most of all, the astounding beauty spoke to him. He had found his people and his home.
In the summer, he hiked and hiked and hiked. He knew the Indian Peaks Wilderness trails and lakes well enough to write a guide book, if he were the type of person to write a book, which he was not. He covered great distances, discovered secret swimming holes, and caught many trout, which he shared with the people he loved. On busy summer weekends, he knew where to go to escape the throngs of flatlanders. Every winter, he delighted in watching the snowdrift outside his cabin grow. He loved cross-country skiing up Fourth of July Road and on the secret trails that only Eldorans know.
A person of simple material needs, he hiked with a simple canvas rucksack and a 40-year-old canteen. He rarely bought anything new. He drove a 20-year-old truck that didn’t have first or second gear, a back window, or a functional driver’s side door. He didn’t care. He loved that truck. If someone laughed at the scratched-up sunglasses that he found on the trail, he’d shrug and say were good enough for him.
Tim’s social circle was small, but he was loyal to those who were in it. If a bear broke into a friend’s cabin, he cleaned up the mess. If it snowed especially hard, he’d show up with a shovel. If a moose appeared in the neighborhood, he’d call neighbors so they could stick their heads out the window and see it too. He picked up other people’s trash, both figuratively and literally, and was meticulous about leaving the wilderness the way he found it.
The last couple of years of Tim’s life were marked by the difficulties brought on by illness and age. He saw the worst this world has to dole out at this time, but he wanted to stick around a little longer anyway. He hoped to see the coast of Maine, to vote for Kamala Harris, and most of all, to find a sweet, little cabin in the woods where he would continue to love his mountains. The universe, unfortunately, had other plans.
Tim leaves behind sisters Theresa Hannon of Hanover, New Hampshire, and Christy Lanane of Anderson, Indiana, and several nieces and nephews. He also had several good friends, including Audrey Godell, Todd Buchanan, and Lisa Lopez, who were particularly kind to Tim at the end of his life.
No memorial service is scheduled, but on some sunny day, his loved ones will haul his ashes up into the mountains and release him. The family asks that those who wish to honor Tim in some way, do so by fighting to keep the mountains beautiful and Nederland a refuge for the people who just don’t quite fit in the regular world.
