Category: Extreme Sports

Red at The Arch North

It was curiosity born of happy childhood memories of Peek Freen’s biscuits that first led me to climb at The Arch.

I have to confess I’d always been a bit sniffy about bouldering.  It’s probably my age (just turned 47) but when I was learning to climb in the 1980s there were no indoor climbing walls and a trip out to the crags was made with the intention of making as much vertical progress as rope, fingers and skin allowed.  A day’s clambering over boulders was a consolation prize taken only when the weather was too bad to attempt anything else.

By the age of 19 I had developed a serious crag habit. I was leading my first HVSs and thinking that the sky was the limit.  Then out of the blue I was diagnosed with a degenerative eye disease and told that I could expect to be fully blind by 30.  My life went into free fall and after a brief struggle (ending with a nasty unprotected fall) I’d hung up my harness and begun a two-decade battle with my craving to climb.

Writer and climber Al Alvarez calls it ‘feeding the rat’, a gnawing compulsion in some of us to push ourselves to the limits of our endurance.  Starved of action my rat was eating me up.  I ached to climb and Pilates was no substitute.

I had tried a couple of climbing walls during the 1990s when they first came to the UK but they didn’t feed my need to get high at the end of a rope.  So I wasn’t expecting much when in 2009 my daughter decided she wanted her birthday party to be at our local wall in North London.  How wrong could I have been?!

While other parents were ogling the buff-body instructors I was checking out the bumps and curves of the top roped high walls, and I was hooked again.  

I quickly discovered that climbing instructors, like climbers the world over, are born problem solvers.  My blindness wasn’t a barrier, merely a hurdle to be worked round.  As the weeks and months passed my confidence returned and the prospect of getting back out onto real rock seemed less absurd.  One day as I lay gasping but jubilant having cracked a tricky overhanging problem I let slip my teenage dream of climbing The Old Man of Hoy, a 450ft sandstone pinnacle in The Orkneys.  In his calm considered way my instructor rubbed his chin and said ‘well with a bit of work you could probably manage it’.

A bit of work turned out to be a brutal climbing fitness regime that saw me lose 12 kilos and gain the ability to hang from one arm like a chimp.  By now I had acquired a climbing partner, Matthew, and he and I trained two to three times a week with a new instructor called Andres.  We spent weeks perfecting a clock-face system so that they could accurately direct me to my next hand or foothold.

But it soon became clear that top-roping had its limitations as far as teaching was concerned.  The distance between climber and belayer makes communications difficult and the higher the climber goes the less easy it is for the belayer accurately to judge distances between climber and holds, to spot useful features and even to be heard.  Frustration was setting in and we needed a solution.

That turned out to be bouldering.  By now it was 2012 and Andres was ravsing about this amazing new climbing centre in Bermondsey called ‘The Biscuit Factory’.  When I learned that it was on the old Peek Freen’s site and therefore the home not only of the Garibaldi and Bourbon biscuits but of Twiglets too!, I decided to eat my words and give bouldering another go.

Biscuit production may have ceased long ago but the emphasis on ‘virtuous activity’ to improve the health of those labouring within the building (which made the factory owners pioneers in Victorian England) remains.

On a series of cleverly designed and well-maintained routes I quickly discovered that there is no better way to improve climbing stamina and technique than bouldering.

Because the spotter is that much closer to the climber it’s easier for him/her to direct and correct their movements – and all without the need to shout to be heard.   Without the security of a rope precise footwork becomes essential and because the routes are shorter they tend to be more technical and often designed to focus on one specific climbing skill.  Matthew, Andres and I found ourselves returning to work on problems that exposed my weak areas – rockovers and laybacking – and enjoying the progress we all made up through the grades. My footwork and my ability to crimp on seemingly impossible slopers grew as did my confidence and, when it did go wrong I learned how to take a fall safely (which is really quite terrifying when you can’t see what’s below you).

In 2013 I became the first blind person to climb The Old Man of Hoy.  The ascent was filmed by BBC Scotland and aired on The Adventure Show.  I have since published a book detailing the background to the climb and how the camaraderie I rediscovered in the climbing community and the spirit of the London Paralympics helped me scale heights I thought were lost to me forever.

As a result of all the publicity an old school friend, Carl, who I hadn’t seen for twenty years got back in touch.  Another keen climber he lives round the corner from The Biscuit Factory and so we meet up two or three times a month to climb there together.

And then last year The Arch North opened just up the road from me in Burnt Oak so that Matthew, Andres and I now get together every Friday afternoon for a three-hour session followed by a pint or two.  We still try and get outdoors as often as possible and I’ve even started to lead on sport routes up to F6a (learning to fall indoors has proved invaluable!).  We do still go to the top-roped wall we started at but as the three of us prepare for a trip to the sharp, white limestone fo Southern Sardinia this month it’s the edgy little yellow V3s and V4s at The Arch North that we’re concentrating on.

The Arch

I am delighted to announce that the owners of The Arch Climbing Walls have kindly offered to let me do all my training at their excellent facilities. With winter approaching and the outdoor rock climbing season coming to an end what better way to maintain your hard-won climbing fitness and work on technique than with regular bouldering sessions?  Read how my eyes were opened to the benefits of bouldering as I prepared to climb The Old Man of Hoy back in 2013.

http://www.archclimbingwall.com/journal/2016/11/2/training-for-trad

arch

Climbing Photos

On the cliff top, facing Am Buachailleunnamed-2


Grabbing a dip in Sandwood Bay, Am Buachaille in the background

unnamed-3


On Marram, a VD*** at Sandwood Bay. Very gneiss!

unnamed

Tandem Photos

Simon and Red on the South Downs Wayunnamed


Simon (ahead) with Mark and Red near Amberley on the South Downs

unnamed-2


Mark and Red pushing up an uphill section

unnamed-3

Midsummer Madness

Midsummer Madness, June 2015:

Scottish Cliff Climbs and The South Downs Way

To celebrate the second anniversary of reaching the summit of The Old Man of Hoy and having bagged The Old Man of Stoer in April 2014, I decided to go for the hat-trick and attempt Am Buachaille – the third and, according to legendary climber Hamish MacInnes, “the most serious of the big three Scottish sea stacks.”

This 65 m tall sandstone pinnacle, lies 100m off shore at the lower end of Sandwood Bay, in the far North West corner of Scotland near Cape Wrath.  It requires at least one climber to swim across a 30m channel at slack tide, rig up a Tyrolean traverse to get the gear and the rest of the team to the base of the stack and then you’ve got about three and a half hours to climb and ab off before the tide gets too high for you to get back ashore.  At least two teams have had to spend a chilly night on Am Buachaille for being to slow.

What’s not to like.

Andres and I flew up from a beautifully sunny and warm London into gale force winds and driving rain in the Highlands.  Hardly typical June weather even for the West Coast.

Over the next three days with Nick Carter as our guide we sought out sheltered sea cliffs at Reiff and Sheegra and shivered and slid our way up and down a nice collection of VDiffs, VSs and a couple of HVSs – although Jug Lust at Sheegra in the pelting rain is not a route I wish to remember.

On our final morning with the weather looking a little brighter (you could see the sky for a change) we set out across the bog to check the lie of the sea.

Horrendous.  Metre high waves crashed over the 70m platform making even getting to the 30m channel perilous.  And the gusting South Westerly nearly blew us off the top of the cliff.

We backed off and instead bagged a couple of 35m routes (including Marram, a cracking VD***) on the gneiss cliffs at the other end of the long golden sweep of Sandwood Bay; Am Buachaille sticking its finger up behind our backs as we did so.

Feeling a little cheated I returned to London for 40 hours, used the facilities at home and headed off to Petersfield.  With Matthew ordered to rest his damaged shoulder for at least six weeks I’d be attempting to tandem the South Downs Way with Matthew’s friend Simon Russell (an avid mountain biker who’d been nursing the tandem through a series of brake replacements and unforeseen mechanical issues) and his friend Mark Angela.

Both were familiar with the area having lived there for years but I’d only met Simon a couple of times and Mark never, far less cycled with them!  We had some fast learning to do.

Over a lovely dinner cooked by Simon’s wife Selina and Mark’s wife Vicky we got started.  Outside a violent thunderstorm ensured that our path next day would be more slippery than we might have hoped.

Still it was a good excuse for getting up an hour later than originally planned the next morning.  And it was still cold and damp as we set off from Chilcomb just outside Winchester.  Simon and I had got a bit of practice in the previous afternoon and found we cycled easily together.  He’d also persuaded his teenage son Louie to have a test run along a section of the South Downs Way the weekend before.  Consequently we made good progress on the first 6 mile leg before Mark swapped into the front saddle.  He owns a road tandem which he rides with his teenage daughter.  But he’s rather less familiar with off-road terrain and with me, so it took us a bit longer to get in-sync and we were still doing so at a steady 6mph when the bike came to a sudden halt.

The tandem is fitted with disc brakes, like those on a motorbike, and the rear calliper had worked loose and swung through the back wheel.  One fixing bolt was lost, one bent.  Fortunately we were near a main road and had mobile reception, so Selina came to our rescue, via Cycleworks in Petersfield, with spares that Simon fitted while the rest of us had a coffee in the conveniently positioned Shoe pub in Exton.

Having lost two hours we knew we’d be hard pushed to get to our halfway point of Worthing by 7pm – which was when Selina’s parents who were putting us up, had told us the BBQ would be ready.

With growing confidence we ate up the miles past Harting and Cocking and Amberley, ignoring the gradients as we toiled up them and rvelling in them as we sped down their rocky paths.  We made it for dinner having put 54 miles and 6000ft of hill climbs behind us.

The three of us ate, drank and slept very well!

From the moment the next morning that three girls on a Three Peaks training weekend pointed up a long steep hill and told us they’d been amusing themselves watching all the cyclists dismount and push up it, Mark and I were on a mission.  We blatted up that and pretty much everything in our path finding the rhythm that had eluded us the previous day.  Lunch at The Abergaveny in Rodmell was a very tasty carb-stop but we were on a roll and with Simon resuming the pilot’s duties our downhill speeds increased too – hitting 40mph when the surface allowed.  The ride just got better and better so that the hurtle down the bridleway from Beachy Head to Eastbourne ended too quickly and it was rather a surprise and almost a disappointment to pop out opposite The Kiosk café and find that our 100 mile ride was over and 11,000 feet of ascent and descent done.

But what an amazing trip – I guess I’ll just have to do it all again when Matthew is fully recovered…can’t have him missing out on the fun!

My wife Kate was waiting with the van for the bikes and two train tickets back to London.  I settled down into my seat a little saddle-sore and achy after ten days of ups and Downs!

Blind Man of Hoy – Red Széll

Blind_man_of_hoy_Small

‘

From the moment I watched a documentary of Chris Bonington and Tom Patey climb the perpendicular flanks of the Old Man of Hoy I knew that my life would not be complete until I had followed in their footholds. That was in 1983 when I was thirteen. Within months I was tackling my first crags and dreaming of standing atop Europe’s tallest sea stack with the Atlantic pounding 450 feet below. Those dreams went dark at nineteen when I learned I was going blind. I hung up my harness for twenty years and tried to ignore the twinge of desire I felt every time The Old Man appeared on TV.’ Middle aged, by now a family man, crime novelist and occasional radio personality, Red Szell’s life nonetheless felt incomplete. He was still climbing, but only indoors until he shared his old, unforgotten, dream with his buddies, Matthew and Andres, and it became obvious that an attempt had to be made. With the help of mountain guides Martin Moran and Nick Carter, and adventure cameraman Keith Partridge, supported by family and an ever growing following, Red set out to confront the Orcadian giant.

Publication date 16th April 2015 by Sandstone Press

Click here to order your copy from Amazon.co.uk