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| On Ladhar Bheinn 2007 |
The diagnosis did not surprise me as we had walked on dozens of occasions over a 15 year period and we had climbed together on most of Scotland's munros, some of them several times. I chalked up munro rounds whilst Mark counted the number of munros. He was walking twice as many munros as me most years and I was averaging 65 or so each year. He broke 200 in one year but has never completed the Munros because he promised his wife that he would not climb those that required rock climbing skills - the In Pinn and Am Basteir on the Skye ridge. He would have no difficulty climbing either of them but a promise is a promise, Mark is principled as well as erudite.
Even before our first walk together on a sunny July day in 2002 I knew that he was an obsessive hill walker from the way he dressed at work - trainers, woolly jumpers, rucksacks and he had a long languid stride pattern. The afternoon was too good to be stuck in the office and I had already arranged to leave work early and go for a walk with my son. I bumped into Mark and asked if he fancied a walk in Glencoe, maybe Bidean nam Bian. The answer was an unhesitating yes after he had spoken to his boss, the formidable Mr Risk.
It was almost 4pm when I left work to collect my son from home and then drove to Callander to pick up Mark. We reached Glencoe at 6:00pm to climb its highest and best peak, Bidean nam Bian and despite time being against us we climbed by the longer route via Beinn Fada and Stop Coire Sgreamhach. We tested each other out on the challenging slopes up Beinn Fada. No quarter was given and we summited Bidean before 9:00pm. We completed the walk in less than 5 hours and made it home just after midnight. Compared to what came later it was a minor skirmish with the hills.
Over the next dozen or so years we walked together on over 80 occasions taking in almost 200 munros, countless corbetts and lesser hills. It included lots of walks of over 12 hours, a score of finishes well after darkness, bivvying on hilltops, camping in lay-byes, and long weekends in May and September to climb the more distant hills in Torridon, Fisherfield, Glen Shiel and the far north. We climbed 28 munros in a week in 2005 and skipped round the 5 munros in Glen Affric in quick time in order to get back to the hostel in Cannich to watch Liverpool beat AC Milan in the European Cup Final.
I introduced Mark to my rather brutal habit of doubling up on hill walks - two or more outings in a day. Most famously we drove 200 miles on a Friday night, grabbed a 4 hour camp on a nettle bed by the beach at Glenelg before climbing Beinn Sgriol and the two nearby corbetts followed by a 100-mile drive into Knoydart to climb Gairich and then 120 miles home. On another occasion, the Aonach Eagach ridge was climbed on a cloudy 5 November after which we had a late afternoon walk up Ben Lomond and watched the fireworks from the summit.
We even managed an 18-hour walk from Kinlochhourn to Barrisdale, the three Knoydart munros and then back on a late September day. On this occasion, Mark was christened Tesco man by three thirty something walkers, whom he had just cruised past on the seriously steep ascent of Luinne Bheinn. As I passed them at a more sedate pace they asked: "Is he with you and are you sure he is safe to go out dressed in that equipment?" "Well, yes" I replied not having thought about it before. He usually walked in an old pair of Asic trainers, woollen jumper, carried a small cheap rucksack, which on this occasion was topped by a Tesco bag containing his charity shop waterproof jacket and trousers. He was a goretex free zone. Walking meant walking, it was not an excuse for shopping for outdoor gear, shopping merely wasted good walking time.
My answer had obviously not convinced the walkers and when I strolled into the Barrisdale bothy alone at 8:15pm after crossing the tidal channels at Barrisdale they looked worried. "Where is Tesco man," they asked. I explained that he had slowed down after falling waist deep into one of the tidal channels but that he would be here soon. I had watched his head torch zig-zagging across the braided tidal flats. Climbing the three munros, Luinne Bheinn, Meall Bhuidhe and Ladhar Bheinn had been a big day after walking in from Kinlochhourn. The thirty somethings had done the first two but had started from the bothy. When we put on rucksacks at 9pm for the 3-hour walk in the dark to Kinlochhourn they knew that Tesco man was hardcore.
And this was echoed in the Kendal Fell Walker newsletter that summed up Mark as suffering from a fanatical hill walker tendency that drives him to walk virtually every day. Here is the text.
The Lord of Walking
As the clock struck midnight on the 31st December, 2015, lots of people were making New Year’s resolutions to give up smoking or stop eating chocolate. Many were promising to turn off the television, cycle to work, or even join a gym class while others will have promised to try a marathon or a triathlon. For mountain folk, like us Kendal Fellwalkers, the challenges might have been a Coast-to-Coast walk, or the Pennine Way, or finally driving round to the western Lakes to finish the Wainwrights. But not our Mark; his target was to walk 5,000 miles, climb 1,000,000 feet, and bag 1,000 Wainwright’s, including three consecutive sets.
IN ONE YEAR.
To put that into perspective, Mark Tye was promising himself he would average 14 miles, 2800ft of ascent, and 3 Wainwrights, EVERY DAY of 2016. Our first reaction, on a Sunday A walk in early January was, ‘he’s winding us up’. But then we thought about it. He already regarded ‘A’ walks as a rest day, and often walked over the fells to meet us at the start, then walked home afterwards. His stats for the walks he led, as given to Janet and shown on the program were, quite frankly, a fiction; in that he’d just go as far as anyone let him. We generally rebelled and he accepted our weakness without derision. He never missed an opportunity to add an extra summit for himself and then rejoin the group.
Before he moved to Ambleside he had climbed a mighty 3092 Munros. We had not named him ‘Lord Tye of Ambleside’ for nothing. We already knew he was ‘hardcore'. He walks in knackered old trainers and his knitted jumpers are legendary. He wears one all day, even when the temperature is into the 20’s. We thought they were a sort of anti-fashion statement on all our fluorescent Goretex, but on reflection, there is no artifice about him whatsoever.
Mark has never been known to sit down, even at lunch, we put out a reward of £5 for anyone who could persuade, trick or cajole him into it. It’s unclaimed of course.
In Scotland this year he’d already done four monumental days before the KFW tribe even fell out of our cars; and then put in another huge distance every day of our ‘holiday’. This being early June we asked him about his targets and he smiled, saying he was ‘ahead’. But his brow dipped as he added, ‘Mind you I’m getting behind on my Wainwrights.’ Some people are never happy. But actually, that’s just what he is. Mark is happy on the mountains. And never gets impatient with our snail’s pace, nor upset with other people, however unreasonable they may be. He is modest too, claiming his greatest achievement as ‘still being married.’ All in all he’s an inspiration to those of us who are tempted to slow down and he carries your bag with a smile.
So now it’s December 2016. How did he get on with his targets?
No sweat. By December 8th he has summitted 1195 Wainwrights, walked 5071 miles and climbed 1,172,000 feet.
Surely next year he’ll have a rest, won’t he?
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| Presented with a sit mat by Kendal Fellwalkers |
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