A Prince of the Mountains
Have you ever found yourself standing at the bottom of a high, precipitous and rugged peak, fearful of the daunting task it will be to make it to the summit? That's exactly how I felt when Simon Stewart asked me to write this obituary for Brendan O'Reilly (aka madfrankie), my closest friend for 40 years and a huge contributor to MountainViews and to hillwalking in general. The challenge to do justice to Brendan and his achievements seems challenging in the extreme. But one step at a time, here goes.
"A huge contributor to MountainViews and to hillwalking in general."
Back in the late nineties, I was regularly bemused by Brendan's obsession with the outdoors and the sport of hillwalking. Every now and again, when we'd arranged to meet for a pint, Brendan would turn up having come directly from, what seemed to me, some outlandishly long and difficult trek in the pouring rain across the mountains. His clothes and boots would be mud-spattered and he would look and sound totally exhausted. What satisfaction, I wondered, could anyone possibly garner from putting oneself though such misery? What I didn't know, and would soon learn, was that besides the muscle pain and fatigue, Brendan was also experiencing a sense of exhilaration and personal accomplishment that I rarely felt.
Brendan walking in the West Cork Mountains.
The Call of the Wild
Eventually my curiosity got the better of me, and I began to inquire about his, to me, strange infatuation with the outdoors and 'peak-bagging'. So one Sunday, Brendan took me on a walk up Djouce in Wicklow. Although this is a highly popular route up good trails, and is regularly trekked by hundreds of weekend walkers, to me, a total city slicker, it was an odyssey into the remotest wilderness and a journey of personal discovery! I had been bitten by the hillwalking bug and I have Brendan to thank for it.
Not long after this, Brendan introduced me to the website MountainViews.ie and explained the mysteries of 'peak-bagging' aka 'summiteering'. And within a few years, we had both become directly involved with MountainViews, becoming part of the very first committee that Simon coordinated to help with the running of the vast website. In the years that followed, Brendan would make an enormous contribution to MountainViews, and in so many ways his loss to his family, friends, and to the MountainViews community is incalculable.
Brendan, myself and Peter Walker at the summit of Torc Mt. on the day Simon bagged his last Arderin. Thanks to Brendan and Simon, I too was bitten by the hillwalking bug.
(Incidentally, I once asked Brendan why he chose the sobriquet 'madfrankie' for his MV persona. As I recall it, Brendan did a tour of gangland London once, the tour guide being none other than the former, but reformed, 1960s gangster 'Mad' Frankie Frasier, so he duly borrowed the nickname, having spent his early years growing up in London not far from where the dastardly Mad Frankie conducted his 'business.')
The Height of Modesty
When the original Arderin list was first standardised in 2009, (500m+ with a prominence of 30m), there were a total of 404 tops to be climbed. Brendan took on the challenge with relish. He would regularly set off on epic walks across the Reeks or the Maamturks or the Comeraghs or the Cahas, and on many of which I was lucky enough to accompany him. Thanks to Brendan, for the first time I experienced stunning views that most people never even glimpse, startling displays of weather with dramatic clouds pierced by shafts of sunlight, rainbows so vivid you felt you could pluck them from the sky, white cloud tumbling over precipitous cliffs, bounding red deer with antlers higher than a man, eagles soaring just twenty metres above our heads, and swaying seas of purple heather, massed foxgloves, and yellow furze carpeting the landscape in spring.
'Madfrankie' admires a breathtaking view from the Shira Plateau as he made his approach to Kilimanjaro.
"His knowledge of the wilds was like that of a famed botanist or ornithologist."
Brendan was also a treasure trove of information on the wilds. As birds exploded from the heather on our approach, he would enlighten me by telling me it was a hen harrier or a red grouse, or he would point out heath spotted-orchids, bog rosemary or sundews. His knowledge of the wilds was like that of a famed botanist or ornithologist, but he would dismiss my compliments on his expertise with a modest grunt. And that modesty in so many ways defined Brendan.
The Summit of Irish Hillwalking
One by one Brendan ticked off the Arderins, all while working full time as an art director in the advertising industry. He once rose at 3am to drive to the Nephin Beg range to bag Ireland's most isolated peak, Slieve Carr, and was back home in Lucan just in time for bed and work the next day! Brendan's wife, Bernie, who herself is an accomplished hillwalker and landscape photographer, would often accompany Brendan on his forays into the wilderness. And she also did so on the day he bagged his final Arderin. And at 10.49 am on Tuesday 27th of November, 2012, Brendan clambered the final few steps to the top of Tooth Mountain in the Cahas to bag his 404th, becoming the first hillwalker to complete this, the definitive Irish hillwalking list.
Sweet tooth! Brendan's 404th Arderin. This is the only time I every saw Brendan raise his arms in celebration!
Having accomplished such a feat, (we guesstimated that all the Arderins combined are a total ascent of roughly 200,000 metres), most people would inform the world through Facebook, Instagram or Twitter and then happily accept the plaudits. But Brendan did none of that. In fact he didn't even record the moment on MountainViews.ie, and if you check out the posts for Tooth Mountain, you'll find no write-up or photo informing the hillwalking community of what he'd achieved, and only a handful of other hillwalkers were aware he'd become the first Arderin completer. He merely ticked off the top and saw his 'madfrankie' pseudonym as the lone highlighted one under the Arderin list in the Summiteers Hall of Records. Brendan truly scaled the heights of modesty. He did not do it for acclamation or glory, merely for his own sense of personal accomplishment.
Don't look down! Brendan and our mutual friend Donal sitting atop the Hag's Tooth in the Reeks.
An exemplar…in all walks.
But there was much more to Brendan than his hillwalking abilities. As an MV Committee member, he also took on the role of designer-in-chief, using his considerable skills to painstakingly produce and lay out our quarterly newsletters and our printed annual. Many of you will have bought these annuals down the years and I'm sure you'll agree that they are professional in the extreme. They are sleek 60-page productions that would do any commercial publishing house proud. In fact, most magazines you might pick off a newsagent's shelf would be the work of a large team of art directors, designers and planners, yet Brendan produced our annual and quarterly newsletters entirely on his own, while all the time working full-time, attending to his adoring family and household, pursuing his love of trading in old vinyl records and yet still finding time to escape to the hills whenever he could.
And besides the newsletters, Brendan also single-handedly designed and produced MV's published book 'A Guide to Ireland's Mountain Summits.' And then there were the awards certificates, the MountainViews logo, our event display banners and countless other bits and pieces necessary for the monthly running of the website and associated events. And as madfrankie, he contributed countless write-ups on hill and mountain routes to MV, particularly in the Dartry, Ox and Breifne Mountains, (he being from Belturbet in Cavan) and also on the mountains of Donegal (from where Bernie hailed.)
Brendan also designed and compiled MV's published book, which is still selling a decade on!
A Head for the Hills
Besides having been the first Arderin completer, Brendan was closing in on multiple other lists, including the Vandeleur-Lynams, the Arderin Begs and the Carns. He could also boast (not that he would) having bagged 58 Munros, 41 British Marilyns and 71 British 600m+, including the highest peaks in Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England.
We four great friends regularly shared many a long and epic adventure in the wilds, such as this one a few years back, which took us to the pinnacle of Ireland. (Left to right, Brendan, Stephen McKeon, Donal O'Dea (aka dodser) and me, Colin Murphy.)
A Friend in High Places
"What an imprint your footsteps have left on our hearts."
But when I remember Brendan now, it is not his hillwalking and design achievements, impressive as they were, that immediately spring to mind. It was his commitment to his family and his innate decency, honesty, intelligence, modesty and endless wittiness that made him the best and closest friend any other human has the right to ask for, a friendship that was made all the stronger for the time we spent together wandering across the mountains in the wilderness. He will be terribly missed by Bernie and his children, Vinnie and Izzy, by myself and all of his other hillwalking friends including Simon, Donal and Stephen, and also by all the members of MountainViews.ie, to whom he gave so much and asked nothing in return.
Brendan and his son, Vinnie in Scotland as they plan a day's Munro-bagging.
I will end as I did his eulogy at his recent funeral, with a quotation from an American writer called Dorothy Ferguson, which in so many ways sums up the loss of Brendan to his family, friends and colleagues.
'You walked with us for too brief a time, but what an imprint your footsteps have left on our hearts.'
-- Colin Murphy