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Memories of Terry Jones (1942 - 2020)....

The 'very' early years

I was a toddler in the late 60s when I first came across Terry Jones. My dad and I waited in the hallway for what seemed like an age before there were spare spaces in the main room where Terry and his dad Dickie were cutting hair and talking away. I remember the photos of the latest hair styles on the wall and a small collection of plastic cars for us kids to play with which on occasion I got hold of but nearly always had taken off me as a barber's floor isn't the cleanest environment for play.

My curly hair meant that homemade mum cuts weren't so easy so I was taken to the Jones's on a regular basis. In retrospect, with memories of the results of mum cuts on my brothers etched on my mind, this was a good thing.

Years later and I was now a pupil at Longton High's Box Lane site which made it easy for me to visit the Jones's after school and getting the standard cut that my mum had told me to have before walking home. Then, on one occasion, the rising popularity of the band Madness resulted in the rising popularity of crew cuts so a moment of madness on my part resulted in me asking Dickie for a crew cut. Dickie asked me if I'd got my parent's permission for this to which I replied 'yes' but Terry's facial reaction suggested that he knew that I hadn't obtained parental permission for what would see me losing my luscious locks and leaving the shop looking like a someone who had just returned from WW1. On returning home and receiving a brief bollocking all was forgiven and the standard crew cut was the default cut for the next two to three years. One of the advantages of the simple crew cut was that it could be easily taken on by Dickie who was now deemed the inferior barber to Terry so whilst the more fashion concious customers preferred to wait for Terry I could jump straight onto Dickie's chair and be out in record time.

Throughout the 80s my fashion trend changed and I joined the evergrowing number of people who waited for Terry. This was the cool option and incurred a longer wait but the wait was generally entertaining thanks to the interesting variety of characters that used the shop. The conversations could be hilarious, deep, thoughtful, sometimes sad and sometimes a tad angry depending on the individual whose hair was been cut and the topic of discussion. Politics was always discussed openly when on-topic along with sports and the neverending tales of life in Meir and Normacot. It was a rare visit if I didn't know another customer but on some occasions some of the other customers were people I could have done without seeing - usually teachers and older lads who I may have offended in some way. It was always entertaining to see Terry's face when the time came when I could tell him that I was 'waiting for Matt' as his son had become the go-to choice for the man who wanted the latest cut administered in expert fashion. On the odd occasion the 'waiting for Matt' line would result in a torrent of foul mouthed abuse with something along the lines of 'it doesn't matter what cut you have with a face like that'. It was always a pleasure.

It was in the early 80s that Terry started to take on marathons and during the build up to each marathon there'd be a collection tin for the charity he was running for. The number of photos taken at the marathons began to grow on the wall along with various cuttings from the Evening Sentinel highlighting both Terry's and Sheila's achievements in raising money for many deserving charities. It was during the early 80s that my dad and a group of other dads and friends began to go hillwalking on a regular basis and it became clear over time that this would become my favourite pastime with football slowly taking a backseat thanks to numerous ankle injuries.

From marathons to the hills

A fourteen month industrial placement at Sellafied in Cumbria had provided me with an opportunity to make the most of the Lake District hills and thanks to this my experience on the hills was beginning to grow. In 1989 I moved to Preston to start my first job after graduating so visits to both the Lakes and Dales were made easier thanks to living in this handily placed area of north-west England.

Despite living away I still had my hair cut at Terry's whenever I returned to visit my parents and it was during the early 90s that Terry's marathon days were coming to an end. He'd always been interested in my walking exploits so I was pleased to hear that he was beginning to enjoy hillwalking with his friend Tim and his walking group. However, some of his tales of derring-do appeared to edge on the verge of downright dangerous as he sauntered over the highest hills of the UK in all weather with the odd admission of navigational failure. Terry and his mates conquered many of Scotland's highest hills including the Ben, the Aonachs and many of the higher Cairngorm peaks.

It'd be around 91\92 when I first asked Terry if he fancied joining me on a walk in the Lakes. I'd drive from my parent's house in Weston Coyney to pick him up from the shop at around 6am on the Sunday. Breakfast would usually be taken at the Burton services before leaving the M6 at junction 36 and heading for somewhere in the Lakes. The route was usually worked out during the journey up and even if we'd pre-planned the route before setting off there was every chance that it'd be altered depending on the weather, the journey or a late change of preference of hill.

Terry was twenty five years older than me but it soon became obvious that his marathon running hadn't done him any harm fitnesswise. Terry was no slouch on the hills and wasn't afraid of the odd impromptu scramble so we could pack in some pretty long routes during a single day - including the driving! I remember picking Terry up on one hot summer morning where we set off with the intention of getting Terry onto Great Gable. I didn't fancy driving over to Wasdale and didn't want a short day from Seathwaite so hatched a plan to start the walk from Buttermere.

The Buttermere Sunday route.

From Buttermere we climbed to Red Pike and then onto High Stile and High Crag before dropping down for the reascent to Haystacks. From Haystacks we headed over Brandreth and Green Gable and then onto Great Gable itself. We returned back over Green Gable and Brandreth to reach Fleetwith Pike and back along the side of Buttermere to the car - 14 mile and 6750 ft of ascent. I drove back home and dropped Terry off at the shop shortly before 6pm. This was all easy stuff for Terry but he did admit that he was glad that I was driving.

Days like this became the norm and many a challenging walk was completed with ease.

It was now the mid-90s and we decided that Scotland would be our next port of call where we'd usually stay for three or four nights in the Ben Nevis or Spean Bridge hotels in either May or October. Many a hill in the Mamores, the Ben Nevis and Glencoe areas were added to our list with no end of comical moments making the trips a pleasure. On one occasion, after eating a service station curry for lunch on the journey up, we awoke the following morning to take on Bidean nam Bian, the highest peak of the Glencoe hills. It was a glorious day and we parked up at the head of Glencoe to take on the 3766ft monster but Terry wasn't happy. The curry from the previous day was beginning to cause him some concern so he disappeared behind a bush to help 'clear' the situation but his failure to implement a thorough assessment of the lie of the land resulted in all eastbound traffic on the A82 getting a full-on view of Terry's emergency evacuation. I made this point clear to him after he'd completed the deed for which he was most ungrateful. Sadly ,whatever happened behind that bush had rendered him unfit for walking for the day so he took my car and drove down to the Clachaig where I would meet him after my walk. I decided to change route and took on the Aonach Eagach ridge where I encountered a few problems but that's another story. Terry was finefor the rest of the week so we enjoyed a couple of great walks in beautiful weather.

On the summit of Buachaille Etive Mor, Glencoe, sometime in the mid-90s.

Terry loved the fitness side of hillwalking but had no interest whatsover in working on new routes or learning navigational skills - all of this was left to me to sort out, along with the driving. I was happy with this arrangement as I could choose where to walk and I was always happier driving than being driven. Terry would keep me entertained by sharing tales from the shop which involved numerous local characters and would then enjoy a pint or two at night where one of his tricks was to buy the beers as my reward for driving and planning the trip. He admitted that he had an ulterior motive for this which was to get me drunk in an attempt to slow me down on the hills the next day. This was a tactic he'd adopt for many years and one that never worked but I think it was a great idea and one which will be sadly missed.

The Scottish classics

As the years progressed many other walkers joined Terry and I on our trips. My brother Nigel was a regular as was Geraint who I'd first met in St Bees during my industrial year but we'd see various new names joining us for the odd day out.

Nigel joined Terry and I for a Scotland trip in 2000 which will be remembered as one of the very best.

Terry had been interested in taking on the Aonach Eagach in Glencoe after he'd waited for me during the infamous M74 curry incident a few years earlier. Whilst sat in the sun at the Clachaig Inn he'd struck up a conversation with a mountain rescue chap who shared his knowledge and experiences of the narrowest mainland ridge in the UK. This captivated Terry and he brought it up on numerous occasions in the shop so the the trip of 2000 would be his chance to take on what he saw as been his greatest walking challenge (so far).

For months before the 2000 trip Terry made a point of reminding me that a customer, who'd completed the Aonach Eagach, insisted that a rope be carried for use on some of the more exposed sections. On one occasion Terry made this point in a forceful manner by staring and pointing at me in his mirror and, in a tone similar to that of an angry head teacher, informed me that 'a customer has told me that you need a rope on the Aonach Eagach'. I disagreed and we left it at that.

A few weeks later, in late May 2000, Terry, Nigel and myself were on the steep climb to the summit of Am Bodach where we'd head west and take on the mighty Aonach Eagach. The weather was superb with only the odd wispy early morning cloud blocking the view. We reached the summit of Am Bodach and set off to meet the first obstacle on the ridge, the descent off Am Bodach. The wispy cloud had resulted in the descent appearing as a bottomless vertical cliff which did nothing to calm Terry's nerves. 'Have we got to go down there?' he barked. 'Fucking hell, is it all like this'. We scrambled down without issue and the entire ridge could be seen in front of us.

We sped over the numerous pinnacles and caught up with a married couple who were about to reach the crux of the ridge - the Crazy Pinnacles. The Crazy Pinnacles consist of three sharp spears of rock with huge drops on both sides which provide the walker with two options - taller folk can reach around the pinnacles but smaller folk have to climb over them. As the married couple approached the first pinnacle the bloke stopped and, to Terry's horror, took a rope from his rucsac. The swearing could be heard in Glencoe village - 'fucking hell Bondy, he's got a fucking rope. I told you. You need a rope for this'. After what seemed like an age Terry decided that there was no point in complaining as the option of returning to the car was just as tricky as carrying on. He resigned himself to having to conquer the Crazy Pinnacles without a rope.

The couple decided to let us pass and take on the pinnacles before them which also worried Terry as he wanted to see how the couple coped but, despite the obvious concerns, Terry made the pinnacles look easy and my comment that the hardest part of the ridge was now behind us went down well, very well.

A post-pinnacle Terry basking in the glow of his no-rope success.

If I'm not mistaken Terry was 58 when he conquered the Aonach Eagach and whenever I decided to take the piss he always reminded me, on more than three thousand occasions, that I won't be doing this when I'm his age. At the time of writing this it'll be five years until I reach the age of 58 and Terry was probably spot on.

Terry also completed the Five Sisters of Kintail in the same week which he thoroughly enjoyed but I just wish I'd taken a photo of him climbing a deer fence at the end of a walk and traversing over an old woman's back lawn. I don't think she was too happy.

I copied the photos of the Scotland 2000 trip onto a CD and printed a label with the photo shown above titled 'Old but bold'. Terry was immensely proud of his achievement and deservedly so.

The Scotland trip of 2000 was superb but 2001 would be even better. The weather in late May, 2001, was scorching when Terry, Nigel and myself arrived at the Old Inn at Gairloch.

The first challenge would be Liathach, one of Scotland's finest peaks and another tricky scramble which Terry managed with ease. We awoke the next day to scorching heat and blazing sun so Terry decided to miss out on An Teallach and walk along the coast on his own. Nigel and I drove off to tackle An Teallach in the blistering heat and on our return drove onto the hotel car park to find Terry, wearing only his boots and a pair of rather tight fitting shorts, sunbathing. He'd walked to the aptly named Redpoint and back which was a good twenty miler and, to put it mildly, had caught the sun. The extent of his sunburn was revealed later in the evening when he joined us for dinner where the waiter advised him to order a rare steak and use his face to cook it to the desired level.

The following day was also incredibly warm and Terry returned to hill action in order to take on another of Torridon's classic peaks - Beinn Alligin. At the end of this walk Terry was even redder. The remainder of the week was spent in the Cluanie Inn in Glen Shiel which was our base for four of the South Glen Shiel peaks and a trip to Skye.

Taking in the rays on Skye.

In the evening, once we'd eaten and enjoyed a couple of drinks, Terry would always retire to his room at around 9:45pm in an attempt to grab an early night and wake up fresh and ready for next day's walk but he'd always return to the bar at around 10:30pm for a couple of additional drinks - you could set your watch to it.

Further trips to Scotland would see Terry summit on Beinn Eighe and Bidean nam Bian, the latter of which nagged him after his failure during currygate a few years earlier. Terry was 64 when he took on Bidean, 64! Bidean nam Bian is the peak in the background in the Aonach Eagach photo.

The long distance years

In 2003 the Hadrian's Wall long distance footpath was officially opened and, on a Sunday night in the Blue Mugge, Neil Scott brought up the idea of a group walking holiday. I agreed to look into the details and gather interest but a lack of suitable accommodation on the route rendered it a no-goer. An alternative was required so the West Highland Way was the next option to be investigated - it ticked all the boxes.

On Sunday, July 25th, 2004 Terry joined a group of nine walkers to take on the near 100 mile West Highland Way. He'd been looking forward to it for months and the next six days would signal the start of an enjoyable period in his remaining walking years.

The 2004 West Highland Way team.

Terry enjoyed the West Highland Way so much he walked it on three further occasions, one with his son Mark and the other two on his own. Even Terry couldn't get lost on this one.

The experiences of the 2004 West Highland Way resulted in the creation of this web site where many of Terry's numerous feats are recorded in all their glory.

Conflicting family holidays and his view that some of the routes didn't look too interesting meant that Terry missed out on the next three long distance walks but he returned to the fold in 2008 for the Lake District Valleys walk. The first day would see the team walk from Keswick to Patterdale where we spent the night at the Patterdale hotel. The Patterdale, as Terry called it, would turn out to be one of his favourite destinations for many years to come where he'd enjoy numerous walking breaks with Mark.

Terry completed the ascents and descents of the Lake District Valleys walk with ease at the age of 66.

A few more long distance walks were missed by Terry but Mark joined the team for the tough and hot Lake District Peaks walk in 2013. Terry's next walk would be the Inn Way North in 2015 where, at the age of 73, he took on the coastline and hills of Northumbria. Terry had already planned to omit one of the days due to its distance but he managed to complete the rest of the walks albeit at a noticeably slower pace than usual.

Would this be the end of Terry's long distance walking? Not a chance. A change of scenery was planned for 2016 with the Jersey coastline walk which, initially, Terry had no interest in but Mark eventually convinced him that, even if he didn't walk, Jersey was a nice place for a week long break.

The Jersey coastline walk covered 49 miles over four days with typical rocky and hilly coastal terrain. Terry, despite his initial reservations, loved it.

'Jersey? What the bloody hell are we walking there for?'.

Plenty of sun, a lovely coastline, great walking, good company, food and drink was everything Terry that enjoyed so he pestered me to organise the same walk for the following year but 2017 would see us take on the Dales Way again, a walk that Terry hadn't fancied in 2006.

Terry's Jersey experience had taught him a lesson in that the UK has many areas of outstanding scenery outside of the Lake District and Scotland so he was ready for the Dales. Terry missed out on one of the longer days but managed to complete the remaining daily challenges.

2018 was here and another 'made-up' long distance walk was planned called the South Lakes. Terry was well up for this and had trained for months on the towpaths and roads around Cheddleton. The first day of the walk would see us leave Ambleside and climb over Greenup Edge to the day's destination, Rosthwaite in Borrowdale. It was clear from the start that Terry was walking very slowly and after a few easy miles had decided that he wasn't feeling right so, as the route was about to climb over the tops, Terry decided to abandon the walk.

The bigger hills of the Lakes were now getting beyond Terry's reach but he managed one more Wainwright before hanging up his 'big hill boots'...

Terry on the summit of Sheffield Pike (2218ft) on October 1st, 2018. His last 'big hill'.

Despite opting out of the higher tops Terry more than enjoyed the evening banter and his own walks in the valleys.

For some reason, and I don't know why, we decided to walk the Jersey coastline again which was great news for Terry. The area around Cheddleton would yet again be Terry's training ground in preparing for the walk.

It wasn't a given by any means but Terry completed the walk again, with ease. I got the impression that Jersey was Terry's new West Highland Way and his long distance walk of choice and I'm sure he'd have happily revisted Jersey on an annual basis.

The finishing line of Jersey 2019.

Completing the Jersey walk had given Terry newfound confidence in his walking ability after the knock he'd taken in 2018 so he felt fit enough to take on a charity challenge that I'd arranged - the Ullswater Way. This was a 20+ mile walk around the entirety of the shoreline of Ullswater. Terry didn't complete the walk but managed 12 miles in hot weather, a great effort for a 77 year old.

Sadly, Terry unexpectedly collapsed and died on Friday 15th May 2020 at the age of 78. You'd never have guessed that he was 78 as he'd been walking 10 miles a day for the duration of the Coronavirus lockdown which had also forced him to close the shop. He was also on the list for this year's 2020 Langdale trip and had planned a series of valley walks to keep him active whilst the rest of us hit the hills.

What can you say about Terry? If, in the early 1990s, someone had told me that I'd still be walking 49 mile routes with him in 2019 I'd have laughed and called them mad. Terry loved his walking along with the company of his fellow walkers, the number of which had grown signifcantly over the years. Whilst people over 30 years his junior were missing days with blisters and other ailments Terry just kept on going.

He'd always be there to help, he'd always chip in at the bar (too much on too many occasions) and he'd always enjoy giving and receiving a bit of banter. He was always great company.

And there were many unforgettable comedy moments:

- He could spot Ben Nevis just north of Carlisle.

- He would guess the height of hills with an almost unfathomable degree of error.

- Sea eagles were helicopters and helicopters were Sea eagles.

- He'd swear blind that he'd never been on a certain hill before - until I showed him the photo.

- The famous waymarker moment on the second day of the 2004 West Highland Way.

- The time when I was chatting to a young couple and their kids whilst waiting for him at the bottom of a hot and rocky descent of Sgurr a' Mhaim. As he reached the bottom he shouted out 'What a fucking descent that was'. I pointed towards the couple and their kids to which he replied 'I don't care, I'm fucked'.

I'm resigned to a life of crap haircuts and may, for some time, mistakingly say 'Where's Tez?' when in the bar after a walk.

So, farewell Terry Jones, a great friend to all. You'll be missed by all of your walking colleagues and our trips won't be the same without you but you'll be pleased to know that there'll be a fair few toasts in your honour.

'We don't stop hiking because we grow old - we grow old because we stop hiking' - Finis Mitchell.