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<\/a><\/p>\nI had lunch just before I left Edzell in a tea shop that also sold plants and local crafts, run by the woman whose B&B I spent the night in. \u00a0Sitting at a table nearby were an older couple and young woman, all in hiking gear.<\/p>\n
I left and headed out of town in what was if not the wrong direction at least not the right one. \u00a0I was set right by a couple who gave elaborate directions about how to find a foot bridge over the River North Esk. \u00a0I took them and on the far side of the bridge ran into the man and the young woman consulting a map. \u00a0As I had surmised, they were Challengers. \u00a0I asked them where their other companion was.<\/p>\n
“Oh, Maggie’s not walking. \u00a0She’s following us in the car with the dogs.”<\/p>\n
I walked on, not wanting to disturb their consultation further. \u00a0I walked on back roads, on a dirt road that took one right through the middle of a farm’s cluster of modern cattle barns, down a paved road. \u00a0Once or twice I looked back and saw the two of them in the distance.<\/p>\n
So I was a bit surprised when I came off a farm road and prepared to cross a divided highway–a “dual carriageway”–and saw the two of them standing there waiting to cross too.<\/p>\n
“You caught up. \u00a0You must have cut a corner I didn’t see,” I said.<\/p>\n
They turned out to be Alan Wormald, 63, and his daughter, Lucy Wormald, 22, the youngest woman on the Challenge. \u00a0Soon after we crossed the highway and got back on a country road, Lucy got a call on her cell phone and fell back. \u00a0Alan and I walked along and talked.<\/p>\n
They are from Inverness, several hours north. \u00a0Alan and his wife, Maggie, are originally from England but have lived in Scotland for decades. \u00a0They are original back-to-the-landers. \u00a0They did what I and some of my friends fantasized about in the years immediately after college but none of us did.<\/p>\n
They live in a stone crofter’s house that Alan has slowly improved over a quarter century. \u00a0It has walls a foot thick and used to be as cold as a refrigerator. \u00a0He has sheathed and insulated the inside. \u00a0They have two children–Lucy and her brother– and Alan divided one bedroom to give them each their own, although they were barely larger than closets. \u00a0He’d recently taken the partition down. \u00a0They have a one-acre garden. \u00a0The house is up a drive accessible only by Land Rover.<\/p>\n
Alan has had many jobs. \u00a0He’s a tree surgeon, a woodcutter, a teacher of outdoor skills. \u00a0About 15 years ago he spent half a year building hiking trails for the government. \u00a0This required splitting large rocks with a sledge hammer (“like the ones they have prisoners use,” he said) and muscling the shaped pieces into dikes and steps on the path. \u00a0The crews worked every day and he got in the best shape of his life, even though he was no longer young.<\/p>\n
“I went to the sports day at my son’s school,” he said. \u00a0“Even the teachers run races. \u00a0I wanted to show them what I could do. \u00a0I ran in long trousers and wore a hat. \u00a0I beat them all. \u00a0And the hat didn’t even fall off.”<\/p>\n
He was also quite a gear-head, extolling the statistics of his tiny MSR stove (“It’s an American company, you know”) and offering thoughts on the profusion of new tent designs. Also on the over-promise of wind power and the virtues of cider vinegar for longevity.<\/p>\n
Lucy was just about to finish college in Edinburgh, where she is a music major. \u00a0She is also the president of the hillwalking club. \u00a0At least part of the phone conversation involved plans to go north for four days of Munro and Corbett climbing with the club in the days immediately following the Challenge.<\/p>\n
Alan and Lucy had started at Tarfside that morning–the place I’d come from the day before. \u00a0They were also headed to St. Cyrus. \u00a0If they made it (and they did) it would be 39 kilometers–24 miles–in one day. \u00a0Surprisingly, this is the first Challenge for both of them.<\/p>\n
At some point (I forget exactly where) Maggie appeared. \u00a0She had driven ahead, parked the car with their two dogs in it, and walked back to meet them. \u00a0She is clearly an outdoorswoman herself. \u00a0She asked about the crossing and I mentioned, among other things, that I had met Jim Taylor, the 91-year-old man who was doing it for the 20th time.<\/p>\n
“I had a great time talking to him about his life, working on farms before the war,” I said.<\/p>\n
“Did he tell you the story about having to go to the doctor to get a new shirt when he was in the forces?” Alan asked.<\/p>\n
Indeed he did.<\/p>\n
That’s the best story on the 24-minute video I made of Jim Taylor. \u00a0I’d repeated it to many people along the way. \u00a0Someone had told Alan about it the day before; he wasn’t sure who. \u00a0I’m curious to know whether this was a retelling of the version I’d heard, or whether Jim had told the story to many people over the years and it’s simply part of the lore about him.<\/p>\n
By late afternoon they all wanted a break, including the dogs, so they went into a village called Marykirk to get something to eat. \u00a0They hadn’t completely decided whether to finish that day or knock off the last five miles in the morning.<\/p>\n
We parted ways. \u00a0I wasn’t going to stop that close.<\/p>\n