The Blind Man of Hoy Page 10

  I made my excuses after Lily was settled for bed, to leave them some evening to themselves; enjoyed a prolonged shower at my B&B and, when I’d located the bed, fell instantly asleep.

  It had been the perfect end to three wonderful days, during which I had fallen in love again with trad climbing and been reminded how much I adored and missed my own family.

  13

  Down to Earth

  ‘I’ve always been incapable of accepting fate, and I’ve always refused to die, and that has helped me to survive.’

  – Walter Bonatti

  The girls were still in Tenerife and the house felt empty, but a pleasant surprise awaited me when I got home. Sir Chris Bonington had been in touch, apologising for the delay, explaining that he’d ‘got snowed under with emails’ (an image that made me smile) and finishing: I’m afraid I haven’t got a copy of the BBC film so can’t help you on that one, but the very best of luck on the climb.

  Go for it!!!

  Chris.

  That this message had been sent while I was on the Cioch Nose added a nice note of serendipity. Having the support of professional mountaineers such as him and Martin meant a huge amount to me. I wasn’t undertaking the climb as part of some mid-life crisis or publicity stunt but as a serious challenge to my own damaged abilities and to the perceptions of others. Had Martin, Nick, Sir Chris or anyone else in the professional climbing world voiced doubts as to the wisdom of the attempt or viewed it as a circus act I would have pulled the plug on it immediately.

  ‘You’ll be joining a small elite if you succeed, Red. In fact you’ll be forming your own one-man elite as the only blind man to climb the Old Man,’ observed my friend Bill, over a pint in the Magdala a few hours later. ‘I think it’s great. You’re looking and sounding better than you have done in years.’

  I thanked him and we had another.

  ‘Actually I happened to mention your transformation and its cause to my mum and she told me that her friend Jilly’s husband, Brian, was the twelfth person to climb the Old Man, back in 1973 I think she said. He and Jilly went up to Hoy last year and found a little museum there with the original logbook so Brian was able to show Jilly where he’d signed it.’

  ‘I’d love to have a chat with him if he wouldn’t mind, the more information on that big overhang I can get the better. Martin and Nick gave me some idea but for them this is a pretty straightforward climb.’

  Bill promised he’d see what he could do and we drank more beer. The next day I woke with the first hangover I’d had for months, foreswore ale for the foreseeable future and worried anew about how I was going to break the news to Matthew and Andres that we were not all going to the summit together.

  Guilt squatted in my churning guts. I should have fought harder and insisted that, since we were paying, we should get what we wanted. Even as I thought it, that reaction seemed petulant and stupid, ignoring the safety issues at stake. Martin was above all being hired for his expertise.

  Still my conscience gnawed at me and I needed little convincing that ‘if t’were to be done, t’were best done quickly’ if for no other reason than I needed to unburden myself. So I rang Matthew.

  ‘Hey, it’s Hampstead’s answer to Superman. Have you started wearing your pants outside your climbing trousers yet?’

  ‘Only for paying customers.’

  ‘Well done on getting the OK from Martin. How was it?’

  ‘Absolutely bloody brilliant. Far more fun than I’d dared to hope and the weather was perfect throughout; I didn’t need any of that cold weather gear after all but those gloves you lent me were invaluable, thanks.’

  ‘And the radios, how did the three of you get on with them?’

  We hadn’t. I’d produced them at Moy, only to realise that I had no idea how to set them up. Martin and Nick spent five minutes trying to get them working before giving up and relying on traditional means, which are far more effective in the wilds of Scotland than at the centre of Swiss Cottage roundabout.

  ‘Oh, we didn’t really need them,’ I said airily. ‘I had someone climbing at my feet all the time giving directions.’

  ‘What about communicating when the man belaying can’t see you? You’ll need them then. I thought the whole idea was for Martin and Nick to get used to using them with you before you climb the Old Man’ he persisted.

  He was right and the oversight was to have serious repercussions.

  ‘Anyway, Martin was so impressed that he’s told Nick to get hold of someone they know on The Adventure Show, so we may even get filmed.’

  ‘That’s fantastic news!’

  ‘Er yes, fingers crossed. Look there’s something else which isn’t such great news’ I decided to take the plunge. ‘Martin is adamant that he wants to take me up alone with Nick and that they will take you and Andres up the following day.’

  Silence.

  ‘Yeah, and I’ve had another look at his email and I think I misunderstood what he meant by him or Nick climbing it twice. I’d assumed he meant one of them would be abseiling down to lead you guys up after me. But rereading it now . . .’

  ‘And I thought the whole idea was to get the three of us standing together at the summit. Look, I’m only doing this so I can see your face when you get there, you know.’ It was meant kindly but there was, as I’d feared, a bitter edge of disappointment in his voice. ‘Anyway let’s discuss this when I get back. I’m in Sardinia at the moment and I’ve kind of got my hands full. Speak to you soon.’

  Bad news delivered with bad timing – I’d really ballsed that up and now felt doubly guilty.

  A day or so later I got an email from Jilly confirming that Brian was more than happy for me to ring him one evening, and confiding that his ascent was ‘an experience he still dines out on after all these years!’

  His voice, like his enthusiasm for climbing, was a product of the Peak District. Both, undiminished by the decades, bubbled over as soon as we came to the subject. He recalled his first bold routes, the minor epics and, most interesting to me, his jaunt to Hoy with his brother and a friend back in 1973.

  ‘We’d all watched The Big Climb on TV and fancied giving it a go ourselves. So one Friday afternoon we just decided to pack our gear in the car and drove on up. I don’t think we stayed at the hostel but I saw there’s one nearby when I was back there last year and when I spoke to the warden he showed me round the museum that’s been opened. And there was the old logbook I’d signed all those years ago so I was able to show Jilly my name as proof it really did happen.’

  ‘How was the climb? That overhanging pitch looks a bit of a bugger.’

  ‘I didn’t lead that pitch, I’m glad to say. It’s a wide crack and a bit loose in places with steep rock above but the holds were there if you went looking, and there was a fair amount of protection left by earlier climbs. Looks like there still is, last year there was even a 150-metre length of rope dangling from the summit.’

  ‘Wow, that must have been one hell of an abseil,’ I whistled.

  ‘I’ll bet. Yes, it was tough going in places but it’s a great climb. The worst bit about it was that we missed the only ferry back to the mainland afterwards, so I was late for work on the Monday and got the sack; but it was worth it!’

  By now Matthew was back from his holiday and we arranged our usual Thursday afternoon session with Andres. Cole was at the desk when I got there, slightly early, to return his unworn and undamaged down jacket.

  ‘Hey Red,’ his paw enveloped my hand, ‘I’m starting to get a little afraid.’

  I looked at him blankly.

  ‘For the Old Man of Hoy. Please remember to treat him to respect even as you dominate him. No use reducing the whole stack to rubble!’

  News of my success in Scotland had clearly travelled south to Swiss.

  ‘It’s all down to your training routine, Cole. Martin was suitably impressed when I described it to him. He does much the same most mornings himself. I would never have had the strength or stamina for the
nine hours on the Cioch Nose without it. Thank you!’

  ‘Say nothing of it, glad it worked. Just gotta convince Matthew to do the same now.’

  Matthew was still carrying his shoulder injury and unwilling to do much more than climb for fear of exacerbating it.

  Cole confirmed that I should continue as before, trying to increase the pull-ups by one a week if possible, and incorporating some more back strengthening exercises on press-up days.

  ‘What you really need to concentrate on now is ramping up your climb time. You should be down here climbing twice a week and you need to spend at least one two-hour session a week bouldering. The wall up at Hendon’s probably the best place to go. You can train doing traverse circuits round the room.’

  ‘Sounds scintillating’ I said without enthusiasm.

  ‘It’s usually pretty deserted in the evenings; take Matthew and an iPod. I’ll contact the guys there and fix it up for you. Oh and Red?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I think you should buy some new climbing pants, or invest in a belt – we’ve got rules on decency here.’ It was true, I’d lost two inches round the waist and had stomach muscles, which as he’d predicted, pleased Kate no end.

  ‘Unlike our tubby Colombian friend here’ Cole announced as Andres sauntered in. ‘who’s had a whole month back home being fattened up by Mamma.’

  Andres puffed out his cheeks, ‘Aw God, I have eaten so much and climbed so little. But now I’m gonna quit drinking for the next month and start climbing three times a week because I hear, Mister Red, that we are going to be climbing the Old Man of Hoy together this summer. It’s going to be so amazing!’

  Clearly not all the news had made it down south.

  Matthew didn’t raise the subject during the lesson, much of which was spent teasing Andres and exploring the new routes that had been put up in the previous fortnight. One in particular was to prove key to our training.

  The holds that you find bolted to climbing walls are moulded to mimic those that you find on different rock surfaces – so you’ll get limestone-type holds with small pockets, slopers, pinches etc, and bigger jug handle holds, underclings and sidepulls to resemble the features on sandstone. A good hard route will have a carefully thought out mixture of shapes and sizes set at angles to challenge your balance.

  Andres had designed The Rockover Route specifically to work on a single technique and he was to have us flogging up and down it for the next eight weeks until we’d perfected the skill.

  Built on one of the slabs that was at 80 degrees to perpendicular it would have been a cinch to climb on big juggy holds but Andres had used a set that resembled bunches of small red grapes. No single one had more than six bobbles (or grapes) and some had only two. They were widely spaced and the line jagged from side to side, the next hold always just out of reach so that we had to rock over and place all our weight onto one or the other leg to stretch far enough to get to it. This is only possible if you use the other leg as a counter-balance, flagging it out on the opposite side. It was hard, tense work with lots of wobbling and swearing as Matthew and I tried not to fall off tiny toe placements and rise from bent knee to straight leg for the next handhold. I lived in constant fear of my ACLs snapping.

  Having avoided discussing the issue of us all summiting together during our lesson, Matthew and I instead arranged to speak over the weekend about the next steps we needed to take. I dreaded the conversation, still feeling I’d betrayed them in some way. This was a team effort. I would never have got this far without Matthew’s persistence and Andres’ commitment. The three of us should be aiming to celebrate atop the Old Man together.

  The problem was, having spent time with Martin and heard his reasoning I could neither fault his logic nor see him changing his mind. I’d also been left with a strong sense that he viewed Matthew and Andres as passengers and I worried that that was exactly how they would be left feeling.

  Each month I have put a percentage of my Disability Living Allowance into a savings account, against the eventuality of an unexpected expense, or needing to buy pricey low-vision aids. It had remained untouched for over a decade and as I waited for Matthew’s call it occurred to me that it might be well used to repay some of the debt of gratitude I felt towards my friends. It could hardly compensate for the three of us not holding our hands aloft in unison if Martin could not be persuaded to change his mind, but it might help prevent disappointment curdling to resentment.

  I kept this to myself however as Matthew and I discussed more practical matters including the kit-list Martin had given me (slings, karabiners, Prusik cords etc.); the possibility of the climb being filmed; publicity and sponsorship. Only as we settled on a division of labour to cover these aspects did the subject come up, and then in rather a roundabout way.

  ‘Thanks for tracking Martin down, Matthew. We couldn’t be in better hands. He was clearly gung-ho for the climb by the time I left, and I got the impression he’d given the issues around my sight some thought before I arrived.’

  Matthew snorted. ‘That’s because I rang him the night before you went up and gave him a few pointers on how to get the optimum performance from you. I wasn’t convinced he fully appreciated the difficulties you face. It’s taken me long enough to understand and I climb with you every week. I wasn’t going to tell you but – since we’ve come to it.’

  I could just imagine the mini-lecture. No wonder Martin had been a bit aloof when I’d first got there, then pleasantly amazed after each day’s climbing. Perhaps too this was part of the rationale behind having Matthew and Andres climb separately; to avoid too many chiefs fussing round a sole Indian.

  ‘It clearly worked, if only because with such low expectations of me I could only shine.’

  ‘I thought he should know how pissed off you get when it’s not going right and how that affects your confidence and ability to listen to instructions. Every week we’re effectively trying to achieve the impossible. Andres is trying to climb the wall for you, using his perspective to guide you when that perspective is completely different to yours, partly because he’s viewing the problem from down below on the ground and partly because he climbs in a different way to you. And neither of us has any idea how much of what he’s saying you’re processing anyway, because that’s not a constant either.’

  I was immediately defensive. ‘Well, it’s stressful. Put yourself in my position. Most of the time I’m highly uncomfortable, have no idea of what’s coming next or when I might rest and half the time I’m being told I’ve put my hand or foot on a wrong hold. Of course I get a bit short-tempered.’

  ‘It’s not criticism, just constructive comment. And you’ve got to admit it’s a fascinating problem. That’s why I thought Martin should be aware of it. After all, like I told him, I learn more about myself every time I climb with you. But hey, if you want criticism I can do that too.’

  ‘It’s not so fascinating when you’re the one clinging to the wall in a stress position’ I grumbled. ‘Fortunately there’s less call for precision on rock, none of this wrong hold business.’

  ‘So run by me again, the reasons why Martin doesn’t want us to climb together.’ The query came unexpected and caught me off balance.

  ‘Erm, safety reasons mostly, I think. So that he and Nick can give me their full attention and not have to worry about you behind us.’

  ‘And if we climb ahead of you and wait at the top?’

  ‘I don’t know. Risk of me getting taken out by falling rocks, I guess. He was pretty adamant that taking you guys up another day was his preferred option.’

  ‘Sure, because that’s the one that makes his job easiest. I still think the three of us should be up there together, and I know Andres feels the same. We need to go back to Martin and ask him if there is any way of achieving that. Maybe if we ask one of the guys at Swiss if they could lead me and Andres up.’

  ‘Yes, maybe.’ I was doubtful. Much as with Brunel, when Health and Safety and insurers are involved you e
nd up fighting a mechanism that will only grind you down. But since I had so obviously hit it off with Martin the task of going back and arguing the toss with him fell to me.

  14

  Out-of-Touch and In-Touch

  ‘When I stripped myself completely of pressure and thoughts of sponsors and realised I only love to climb, that’s the day I did it.’

  – Ron Kauk

  From the outset Matthew had been adamant that the story of a blind person attempting Britain’s most iconic rock climb was too good a fundraising opportunity to pass up. I, however, had reservations that it might look as if I were using charity to justify undertaking something I wanted to do anyway – a sort of ‘sponsor my mid-life crisis’.

  Besides, although I give regularly to a range of charities, I have a jaundiced view of the bigger end of the sector. This is in part a result of my dealings with the Royal National Institute for Blind People (RNIB) – an organisation dominated by fully sighted professional fundraisers who appear more concerned about the bottom line than the blind and partially sighted individuals they are supposed to represent. They seem to prefer us to stay in our boxes until such time as we can be usefully employed as examples of ‘people who need your help,’ usually when a fundraising target needs to be met.

  Matthew was however both insistent and persuasive and back in February I had contacted RP Fighting Blindness, a small charity whose sole mission is to make Retinitis Pigmentosa history. With this end in sight RPFB is funding research into RP gene therapy at the University College London (UCL) Institute of Ophthalmology.

  The potential of using gene therapy to treat RP and related retinal dystrophies has been understood for decades and demonstrated repeatedly in laboratory tests. But for that potential to be realised those lab tests need to be refined and proved safe for use on human patients.