THE BADGE

WE DEFINE OURSELVES AS CLIMBERS, BUT IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH?

- NIALL GRIMES

I climb less regularly these days. Not because I love it less, but because I love it more. When I get a Big Mac, I throw away the tomato. Why? Because I love tomato. I love tomato so I throw away that tasteless red glob of chemicals and water that McDonalds gives me and calls a tomato but isn’t. And then, because I love meat, I throw away the patty. And then, because I love bread, I toss the bun away. That leaves the Coke, which I hate, so I drink it.

I don’t want any climbing I do to be squeezed into little crannies of time and disrespected. When I do climb it is with joy and freedom. It’s probably been November since I last had a blockbuster day on rock. I bought shares in a friend, John’s, plan to put a date in on a calendar, drive out to a remote moorland outcrop miles from anywhere, long hike included, and attempt a route of some local mythological value. The day came, colder and more drizzly than expected, but John kept a straight face and we went anyway.

Last Temptation (E6 6c). I had seen first-ascent photos in the mags way back when Dave Pegg did the first ascent, and there was something about the way Dave had placed his body around the short, overhanging crack that was mesmerizing. It looked so hard and beyond me but still I knew the joy of a mission, even a failed one, so went along.