Do look up
Indoor climbing is all very well but it’s indoors. No fresh air. No ancient rock. No weather to curse or enjoy. And everything’s laid out on the wall for you, all the holds colour coded. The other thing is that in years of going to Ratho and Alien Rock in Edinburgh – both excellent places, don’t get me wrong – I’d barely had a climb myself. It was all about belaying my children from below. Very proud and all that, amazing to see them so high (sometimes a bit scary, to be honest), but you end up with a stiff neck and start thinking: I want a shot at climbing, actual climbing – outdoors.
Several years later (I’m a terrible procrastinator) – Easter Monday 2019 to be precise – I find myself with two of those “children”, Gabriel, 22, and Iona, 15, in glorious sunshine at Dunmay Crag, Glenshee. We are with Andy Mallinson, a climber and instructor who is so experienced he has been up El Capitan in Yosemite National Park, California, scene of the astonishing feat by Alex Honnold in Free Solo. Andy may have had ropes and a partner, unlike Honnold, but we are hardly less impressed to find out he’s climbed it. He wasn’t boasting, either – we only asked him if he’d seen the film.
Today we will be attempting something a bit less daunting than that iconic 3,500ft wall. Our challenge is closer to 100ft and the angles are a lot kinder. But this is what we’re here for, to learn almost from scratch. And looking up the granite cliff we know we’re still going to have to give this proper attention. As Andy says: “With climbing you get the same satisfaction whatever shape or size or ability you are. Climbing is all-encompassing.” He started at the age of nine in the Yorkshire Dales, where he grew up, and has since climbed all over the world, including North Africa, India and Nepal.
Andy starts us at the grassy base with harness, carabiners, belay devices and knots, of course, or rather the knot. (He provides us with all this gear.) “You only really need one knot for climbing and that’s the figure of eight.” The drill is always to get one of us to check our knots, even when we think we know what we’re doing. (Good advice because by afternoon, one or two dodgy knots do start to creep in). Then he anchors himself to a big rock and demonstrates how he will belay us from above. “The anchor is what will take all your weight if you fall – I’m just enabling that to happen by transferring the force.”
The ropes don’t look like much but Andy says they could hold the equivalent of four cars each. It’s also good to know he replaces them every six months, earlier if there’s the slightest sign of fraying. “A chain is only as strong as the weakest link,” he reminds us.
Onto the rock itself. For our first climb we follow a narrow crack and immediately understand what Andy means about all-encompassing. Even though this is a straightforward start it is exciting to pick your way up, make your own choices, with the reassuring sight of Andy’s helmeted head peering down and the feel of the slack being taken up with each step.
For our next climb we move over to a steeper section on the left, with smaller holds that in places are also more widely dispersed. This time the incline curves away at the top so that Andy is no longer visible. He fixes steel weights to our end of the rope and throws it down like a lasso, which gets tricky as a wind picks up. The metal tinkles satisfyingly as it slides down the last bit of rock and we retrieve it.
On my way up the kids offer me encouraging shouts from below. Later they will play phone footage of me stuck here for several moments while they can be heard sniggering.
Andy is pleased enough with our progress to let us try belaying each other from above, anchored to the boulder like he was (as a precaution he now adds himself to the chain but this in no way affects how the handling feels). It takes a while to get a good rhythm going, with both hands working flat out feeding and locking rope through the belay device as the climber hits quicker sections.
This also goes well for the three of us, so it’s time to try some abseiling.
“More people die abseiling than from any other form of climbing and it’s almost always to do with equipment,” says Andy, whose maximum group size for any outdoor activity is four people. “When it goes wrong, because of the position you’re in – leaning backwards above the steep rock – you’re very lucky if you get a second chance.”
Loose hair or clothing can easily get caught in the belay device. “My hood once got caught and I almost died from strangulation,” Andy says. “I was passing out but then the poppers sprung off – luckily this was the Eighties and hoods had poppers – so I was saved.”
Iona gets the message and knots her hair out of the way. I adjust my hooded jacket. The stance is legs wide apart, lean back fully – though it’s counter-intuitive – and keep the left hand well away from the belay device: you do not want to catch any fingers. Slowing and braking are done by bringing the right hand (if you are right-handed) behind you to lock the rope. It is very enjoyable once you get into your stride.
Does Andy have favourite places in Scotland to climb? “There’s far more than anyone can do in one lifetime,” he says. “The Cuillins in Skye are spectacular but it’s often too cloudy or wet. Glencoe has three times the rainfall of Glenshee and you’ve got midgies in summer. It depends what you’re after but there’s a lot to be said for this part of the world.”
Andy, who also teaches ice climbing and survival courses as well as other outdoor activities, worked briefly as a maths and physics teacher in a Liverpool secondary school in the mid Eighties. “A year and a term was enough for me. It was the fact you weren’t allowed to just teach. It was all about paperwork, assessments, surveys. This is my office now,” he says, looking across the sun-drenched glen. Then, without much conviction: “Maybe one day I’ll get a proper job.” There’s no need for that, I say. “You’re right. There’s no need for that.”
As for the nippers and me, we’ve learnt a lot and had a wonderful day.
© Sam Phipps
Andy Mallinson
Tel: +44 (0)7801 852798
info@mountainsummits.co.uk