True to his adventurous soul, Cole shaped his working life around the great outdoors. Summers found him on the Main Salmon River in Idaho, working as a guide with Orange Torpedo Trips.
He once joked that he was “getting paid to babysit adults in the sunshine,” but everyone who paddled with Cole knew how seriously he took the safety and joy of others. He had a way of calming nerves, sparking courage, and making a river trip unforgettable.
When winter came, Cole followed the snow. He took seasonal work at local ski resorts—any job that came with a lift pass—and spent his off hours carving fresh tracks and hiking ridgelines. He didn’t just love the snow; he respected it, understood it, and never took a single turn for granted.
Away from the whitewater and mountain runs, Cole’s quieter moments were just as meaningful. He sketched mountaintops in pencil, strummed heartfelt melodies on his guitar, and journaled about his dreams for the future. He was the kind of person who could both anchor a group around a campfire and walk in silence beside you for miles, offering presence without pressure.
Cole was a constant in so many lives: a steady hand in a raft, a warm hug when words weren’t enough, and a tireless companion who always said yes to adventure. He coached kids through their first river trips, stopped to help stranded motorists, and had an uncanny way of showing up at exactly the right moment.
He is survived by his large and loving family, by his “River Rats” crew, and by the many friends who called him a brother in spirit. He also lives on in the wild places he loved most the rushing rivers, snowy peaks, and sun-drenched campsites of the American West.
The Mooney family will share details of a public celebration of Cole’s life in the coming weeks. In the meantime, those who knew him are invited to honor his legacy by spending time outdoors, offering a hand to someone in need, or simply watching the sun rise over a quiet trail just as Cole so often did.
Rest easy, Cole. Your current carries on.
