Wade into the Deschutes River just above the Meadow Camp day use area, climb onto the aptly named Lava Island and follow a series of cairns over the coarse lava rock to the island’s highest point. There, 40 feet above the churning rapids, is an altar: a stack of rocks adorned with candles, prayer flags and other tokens memorializing Alex Vincent Kollar.

Zak Mills has made this short but technical hike dozens of times since the evening of Oct. 1, when his good friend and frequent backcountry companion went missing in the river, and his own life was upended.

“There’s a chance that he’ll never come out, and that’s something that we’ve all just kind of had to make peace with,” Mills said. “Obviously, we all want him back, but I don’t think Alex would be totally devastated to have his final resting place be the river and to become a part of it.”

Kollar, 28, was last seen by fellow paddlers around 7:52 p.m. in an area dubbed by river runners “Lava 2,” in Class IV and V whitewater conditions. Class IV is considered advanced whitewater, and Class V is expert. The last fatality there occurred in August 2012.

The initial search for Kollar was conducted in the dark as frantic friends connected on their phones and rushed to the site, and volunteers with headlamps and drones outfitted with spotlights combed the shoreline.

The next morning, Kollar’s boat, helmet, paddle and life preserver washed up the near the parking area downstream, his kayak bearing a large crack on the bottom. That day, more than 30 volunteers and professionals scoured a stretch of river about a half-mile long.

Technically, Kollar remains missing and presumed drowned, but the search goes on, according to Sgt. Nathan Garibay, search and rescue coordinator for the Deschutes County Sheriff’s Office. Volunteers continue to visually search every day from the shore, and every few days, using drones.

The area is heavily used for recreation, and it’s thought that if Kollar’s body moves, someone will see it.

“There are a number of ways someone could get entrapped underwater which could result in not being found immediately,” Garibay said. “Our swift-water and dive rescue teams are considering those scenarios in planning for future operations.”

When the water level drops, which is expected within the next 10 days as release of water from Wickiup Reservoir slows, it could provide the break they need, Garibay said.

“The water level change will hopefully allow us to research areas of the river with a higher level of confidence. We are monitoring the river levels and projections of river levels and planning operations accordingly.”

Kollar was raised west of Portland in the community of Banks. He would say he was much more introverted and shy as a child, Mills told The Bulletin.

At 13, he and his mom and brother, Phillip, were in returning from a day snowboarding at Mount Hood when they hit a patch of black ice and their vehicle rolled. Phillip was not wearing his seat belt and was thrown clear.

Kollar approached his younger brother as he lay dying in the road.

The incident had a profound impact on Kollar, he wrote years later in an Instagram post.

“Watching my brother die has taught me so much, but more than anything, it is to live my dream,” Kollar wrote. “Because you never know when death will come. Indeed, every breath brings us that much closer to death. Will that realization cause you fear and anxiety … or inspiration and motivation to do what it is you want most?”

“For me, I no longer fear death and therefore do not fear failure and therefore I can only succeed in fulfilling my wildest dreams. Everyone dies, whether tonight or in 50 years. I choose to live as if I will die tomorrow, in an unexpected car crash, knowing I lived my life to the fullest with no reason to look back.”

Kollar tattooed his brother’s initials, PHK, near his wrist, and spoke about him often, Mills said.

In another formative experience, Kollar traveled to Rwanda three times in high school to conduct aid work.

His experience in Africa led to more changes in his life, Mills said. He tried to never throw away food and he was unafraid to eat with his hands.

Soon after high school, Kollar relocated to Bend for its outdoor offerings. And though backcountry snowboarding was Kollar’s first love, he had many, according to Mills: mountain biking, paragliding, kayaking. He was a sponsored athlete ambassador for Bend-based cannabis retailer Oregrown, as well as snowboard maker Cardiff Snowcraft, Arcteryx outdoor clothing maker and Julbo eyewear.

Over his last few years, he developed a passion for photography and filmmaking, frequently documenting his travels in the Eastern Sierra Mountains in California, the Cascades in Oregon and Washington, the Selkirk Mountains in Canada and the Chugach Mountains in Alaska.

To help fund his adventures, Kollar worked in landscaping in the warmer months, and he excelled at this too, Mills said. Favoring more naturalistic landscape designs, Kollar secured many clients around Bend by hewing to a philosophy that bright green lawns don’t belong in the High Desert.

“He was just an attractive person, in every way,” Mills said. “He was just a talented dude. Anything that he got into, he got good at, quick.”

He’d only started kayaking less than two years ago, though it quickly became an obsession, according to friends.

As to what might have happened to his friend, Mills mentioned the dangers inherent in kayaking.

“Alex used to say, you have to stay dialed to be dialed,” Mills said. “Just one moment, one bad decision, one little error can have really severe consequences.”

Tuesday evening just before sundown, a quartet of kayakers passed through Lava 2. Two of the men had boated with Kollar.

“It’s anybody’s guess and there’s millions of possibilities, but I think it was freak accident where everything wrong happened at the right time,” said kayaker Quinn Martell. “It does make you think a little bit more when you’re out there.”

JT Hartman said Kollar’s infectious spirit raised the game of everyone around him.

“He was a joy to be with on the river: a go-getter in all rights. A natural athlete, he brought a lot of energy. He’d only been doing it a couple years and in terms of pure stoke for the sport, he was more fired up about it than anyone,” Hartman said.

For now, Mills keeps focused on next steps, like a celebration of life now being planned and “sharing the love” Kollar had for his friends.

“I think for guys like Alex, the aesthetics are what really draw us to do this kind of stuff. I mean, look around: it’s gorgeous here,” Mills said at the alter. “There’s whitewater everywhere, light poking through the trees, and you’re standing on an island of lava. The only thing more beautiful than looking at it is being part of it, and Alex wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to be inside it.”

David Gormley met Kollar through outdoor sports circles in Bend.

He remembers Kollar would hug with his “whole body,” and he was good about telling his friends he loved them.

“You always knew with him, because he told you every time you saw him: ‘I love you, buddy,’” Gormley said. “All the people who were important to him, knew they were important.”

Gormley made the trek to the Lava Island memorial one evening this week.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the best ways to honor him and I think this is one of them,” Gormley said. “It was just hard enough to get to. It’s up high. There’s a little bit of a feeling of adventure. It’s perfect.”