Poo Poo Point bench dedicated to radio host Bob Rivers

Bob Rivers was a husband, a father, a legendary Seattle radio talk show host and a lover of all things outdoors. Most of all, those who knew him say, he was a friend to every person he met.

Now, his presence sits atop an Issaquah mountain, where all who visit will know a piece of his big personality, long after his passing.

The Bob Rivers Memorial Bench was installed at the top of Tiger Mountain’s Poo Poo Point trail Dec. 30. Its creation was a partnership between the Rivers family, their close friend Tami Asars and Bellingham sculptor Tomas Vrba, with help from the Washington State Department of Natural Resources (DNR).

Rivers died in March 2025 at age 68 after a battle with esophageal cancer. At the time, he was living with his wife, Tami Rivers, on the East Coast, where they were from originally. In retirement, they had moved to Vermont and purchased land where they could farm maple syrup.

Before that, they lived in North Bend, close to the mountains that Rivers loved so dearly, and were neighbors with Asars and her husband.

Rivers is known throughout the Seattle region for his 25 years on air at three different stations and “The Bob Rivers Show,” which continued in a podcast format after he retired from radio.

On the memorial bench, the show is represented by a large microphone carved into one end of the bench, and the other end has a maple syrup bottle.

The bench’s backrest has a twisted musical staff for the next thing Rivers was well known for: his Twisted Tunes parody songs. The notes on the staff are from his popular song “The Twelve Pains of Christmas.”

The bench seat is a keyboard, an instrument Asars said Rivers learned so he could join a band with his former radio co-host Spike O’Neill.

Lastly, there is a plaque on the bench with Rivers’s photo and the line “See you at the top, Nonstop.” Asars said “Nonstop” was Rivers’s nickname on the trail because he was such a fast hiker who would “see you at the top.”

“The family loved it when [Vrba] came up with it,” Asars said, noting that there were no revisions to the design. “He just created the bench that speaks to Bob’s life completely.”

The bench, which sits on public land, was installed by DNR staff, who Asars said were extremely supportive and kind throughout the process. She went up to Poo Poo Point for the installation with members of the Rivers family and enjoyed an unseasonably clear, sunny day.

According to Asars, the idea for the bench came up well before Rivers’s passing, originating with Andrew Rivers, his youngest son and a Seattle-based comedian. Separately, Asars said, she herself had the idea of honoring Rivers with a bench — a coincidence that she says felt like a sign.

The next coincidence came when they chose Vrba as the artist they wanted to craft the bench and found out that the Slovakian immigrant had listened to Rivers’s show to help him learn English.

“We kind of joke that [Rivers] loved talking, and maybe he’s still talking in some ways,” Asars said. “Because there’s a lot of really wonderful connections here, whether you believe in that or not.”

After it became clear to Rivers’s loved ones that there should be a bench, the decision to place it at Poo Poo Point — one of his and Andrew’s favorite hikes — was easy as well, Asars said.

“Anytime he was up high and reflecting in the mountains, [Rivers] felt that joy,” she said.

Rivers’s third passion, she said, was people, which bled into everything he did.

“Everybody says nice things about people when they pass, but there was something very special about Bob,” Asars said. “When he met you, he gave you his full undivided attention, and you were, like, the most important thing in the world in that moment. He wanted to know your story.”

It is fitting then, Asars said, that Rivers now has a permanent way to connect with all those who climb Poo Poo Point. He “would’ve loved this bench.”

“Having a bench where he’s inviting like-minded hikers to come up to the top of this peak and sit there and enjoy,” she said. “If Bob had been a living presence that could have welcomed people on the top of the mountain for the remainder of his life, that is what he would have loved to do.”