I listened with interest a few days ago to a number of my
climbing friends discussing Matt Bush’s recent video of him soloing some hard
routes at Montagu. The comments ranged from incomprehension at the soloing, and
possibly even soloing in general, to condemnation for doing it in front of
someone else and publicizing it on the internet. The comments made me wonder if
anyone there had ever soloed anything, or at least anything remotely close to
the point where success required trying, as opposed to merely scrambling up
something.
From the judgments on Matt’s activities, it seemed that most
viewed soloing as lunacy, to be done privately, and in Matt’s case, perhaps as
proto-suicide. I said nothing but thought quite differently. Soloing would seem to me to have little to do
with flirtation with suicidal tendencies – it requires skill and focus of
effort, especially as the grade goes up, and these are things that are far
removed from suicidal thoughts and also things that are far from achievable
when in a depressed and suicidal frame of mind. And what about the
photographer? Was it fair on him or her? Given that Matt presumably thought he
wasn’t going to fall off, and given that the photographer presumably was not
coerced into hanging on a rope filming him, I cannot see that this could be
considered unfair.
What about publicizing the soloing, on a viral internet clip
complete with name and phone number in the credits at the end? Matt wants
publicity. He’s socially different, at least by reputation, as I don’t really
know him well enough to pass judgment. He probably feels misunderstood and
unrecognized for his climbing ability. And isn’t this at the heart of the
negative comment? I know wish I were good enough to solo those routes. And
because I am not, I can narrow the gulf between Matt’s achievements and mine by
criticizing the morality and sanity of his ascents…
Many years ago I was less timid. We all get like like this,
and if you disagree, we can talk again when you have reached 50. And when I was
younger, and a much better climber than I am now, I soloed a reasonable amount,
although nothing like as much or as hard as Andrew de Klerk did. My impulses
for doing so were one-upmanship and an incredible sense of satisfaction at
controlling myself to solo routes that were moderately difficult, relative to
the top standards of the day. Of course, in absolute terms the grades I soloed were
easy, maxing out 23/24, but then we hadn’t climbed harder than about 27 at the
time. Physically I suppose we might have been able to, had our tactics been
better, but there you go.
When I soloed those routes, I certainly didn’t feel
depressed or suicidal. Rather I felt that I was the king of the crag and soloed
them with what I imagined was consummate skill. Neither were all of them short
routes above good landings at my local crag (but lots were). Still, how many of
us who disparage soloing at that height have ever fallen 10m to the ground? Other
routes I did certainly didn’t fit into that category. Fear of Flight started off
a ledge halfway up the crag – the big part of the crag. If you fell off, you
would hit the ledge from 15 m, bounce off, and land at the bottom of the cliff in
impenetrable jungle, completely dead. But I wasn’t going to fall off. Instead I
was going to solo the climb with utter focus and precision and achieve a sense
of satisfaction that probably trumped that which I had just experienced from
doing the first ascent of Shadows in the Rain, next to it. My belayer was by
that time at the top of the crag at this point – he had yarded his way up the
rope and gear after belaying me on Shadows, and the real reason that my solo of
Fear of Flight was unfair on him was the dreadful humiliation I subjected him
to by rapping back down to the ledge and soloing a route he couldn’t do. I am
really sorry about that, and Andrew, if by any chance you are reading this, I
apologise sincerely for this event, and too many others like it.
Looking back, the solos I did really remain vivid in memory,
much more than many redpoints of sport routes. Daylight Robbertsry, Vortex,
Comes a Time, The Entertainer Direct… The satisfaction from doing those climbs
has stayed with me in memory for a quarter of a century and I can still
remember how those ascents felt, when many more recent routes have blended into
some kind of bland recollective soup.
Still, some months after I had soloed Fear of Flight another
climber pulled off the crux hold.
