Davie Michael C.

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Biografie:
Michael C Davie 1964-1995
I well remember the first time that I met Mick - on a trip to Beeston Tor in Derbyshire. We were the only beginners amongst a group of university students and so naturally we found ourselves lumped together in the back of the minibus. There was a calm assuredness about Mick that contrasted with my nervous chatter. Mind you, when he did speak he had a way of getting everyone around him to listen.
After sharing the back seat of that minibus, we moved on to a first season in the Alps, and ever afterwards the big mountains were always to be the main inspiration for Mick's next venture. His innate ability certainly got us up more routes than any amount of my amateurish fumblings. Not surprisingly, as I took to the quiet life, he went on to many notable achievements. Whether soloing in the Himalaya or new routeing in South America, he seemed to be able to blend the risks with an element of certainty; so much so, that we would never feel any qualms when, for instance, he decided to take a novice up the NE face of the Droites in winter, or to trek through dubiously hazardous territory in Peru. It was not so much that Mick would court danger as the fact that, as he grew more and more competent, he needed different challenges.
Outside the climbing world, he just seemed to breeze through life, not so much free from care as untroubled by distractions. In this way he acquired three degrees and a successful career in computing that gave him the time and energy to get out into the real world as much as possible. Though he was obviously good at his job and highly valued by his colleagues, he would always somehow manage to minimise the time spent in Watford away from the hills.
He also had this curious ability to be able to juggle relationships and still maintain friendships; though never a bad lad, he certainly had some fun. Eventually, in Jo Newton, he found someone of like drive and ambition; and she readily gave up her own job to go on that last fateful trip. On 18 July they were attempting Peak 5445m above the Kayndy valley in the Tien Shan when Mick fell through a cornice. After an extensive search, only Mick's watchstrap was found and it was believed that he had fallen into a bergschrund.
Mick, though not the most modest of people, never sought personal publicity. Each trip was a reason in itself, and whether it was to the deserts of Jordan or a wintry day on Stanage with a bunch of novices, he brought with him as wide a repertoire of tales as would carry a bar along all night. Though he could have opinions on any subject, he would rarely bother himself with the ins and outs of the 'great bolt debate' say, or that of the talk on 'new winter grades'. He was at his happiest just being left to do his own thing without really bothering anyone, and expecting the same likewise.
Which, all in all, makes me feel a bit of a fraud writing this for an audience that, in all probability, didn't know Mick. He would certainly be the fIrst to see the funny side of it and take the mickey! But if you have climbed on the crags of Britain or elsewhere, and you remember the loudest and most strident belay calls ever heard, then I'm sure that you will have met him and so perhaps will miss him this year and the next ...
For those of us who were fortunate enough to have known him, it was a cruel blow when, for the first time, fate got the better of him. Our thoughts go out to Jo and his family.
Phil Woolrich
Quelle: Alpine Journal Vol. 101. Nr. 291, 1996, Seite 337-338


Geboren am:
1964
Gestorben am:
1995