UKH

It seems like climbing history, literature and films are full of examples of climbers learning the trade from their elders. They may or may not have identified them as mentors, but it seems to be a common theme. Having never really had someone I'd call a mentor and more often that not finding myself teaching myself, I'm curious to hear your experiences of climbing and learning from the generation above - folks you might call mentors?

Or maybe you're on the other side and are a mentor yourself? I'd say if you've ever taken a younger or less experienced climber under your wing and shared your knowledge with them, then you could call yourself a mentor of sorts.

In reply to Osiris:

Like many people, I should think, I learnt from my dad. Bowline tied around waist, a pair of clarks originals on my feet. What we lacked in gear he made up for in experience. In the decades that followed he never lost his head and always took the initiative leading us out of a variety of scrapes. I never did match him climbing/mountaineering wise and settled into being a gobby punter instead. I did OK at other things and am thankful for this.

In reply to Osiris:

I learnt lots from lots of different people, but special mention to Ann S of this parish who looked after me when I was very new to it all on a UKC meet and taught me loads. Excellent at swearing too!

In reply to Osiris:

Doug Scott. Or rather his book 'Big Wall Climbing'. Got that out from the library and cycled off to the quarries to put it into action. When I began proper caving at 16 the usual 'mentoring' that came my way was along the lines of 'what the f*cking hell are you doing?!!' usually just as I was about to thread my rack the wrong way round. Not very subtle, but pretty effective.

In reply to Osiris:
A rather eccentric English teacher called Mrs Diane Jaggard who took us up to North Wales and the Lakes when I was in my last year at primary

Bob Chapman (at least associated with if not on Ogwen MR) who when I was at senior school arranged trips to North Wales that completed my love for the hills

Martin Moran, climbed with him when I was a student and he was an aspirant guide and then met up later as a customer in the Alps. Safe, fit and a real gentleman

In reply to Osiris:

I owe my climbing introduction and progression to two outstanding individuals. The first was Howie Trillo, who taught us Outdoor Pursuits at school but, purely out of generosity of spirit, took some of us climbing to Derbyshire, the Lakes and Wales on weekends and holidays. The second was Ted Lister, who had been a near cutting-edge climber in his day and who 'adopted' me in a climbing sense, introducing me to the more modern aspects of the sport and its performance levels that Howie never would have been familiar with.

To both of these fine gentlemen I owe the most enormous debt of gratitude.

In reply to Osiris:

I haven't been on here for eons but couldn't resist this! 

First on my list has to be Woody - ex RAF mountain rescue and sadly no longer with us. He was the first person to bother to teach me, never lost patience with me being scared and was the first one to take my daughter out on rock. I admired his ethics and still measure who me and my daughter are as climbers by whether he would approve. I hope he would. 

Second on the list is the above's loyal climbing partner who stubbornly held my rope with unrelenting encouragement and not one cross word whilst I learned to lead. My daughter and I adopted him as a bolt on grand dad - which he loves muchly! 

Then there is Hazel - although this isn't a order of merit just a list of thanks. Hazel somehow got me to love trad. How the feckelly do dah do you get a scaredy puss to love trad? I'm still terrible but have played a part in starting off many others and am still climbing and leading trad. 

And then there was - hopefully when this nuttiness is over, still is Dane. Dane had a buggered knee and climbed most stuff sort of one legged, then would pass the rope and actually expect me to follow. I think Dane is a bit mad in the best possible way. I remember watching him stuck leading an overhang indoors - anyone sane would have jacked it in, he was there forever, just hanging on by his fingers! Then he did a dyno from the overhanging arete! Best climb ever watched, a proper understated drama of determination over gravity. 

Then it's got to be the crew I climb with now - all of them! 

People make climbing. Best people. 

In reply to Osiris:

In the late 1950s early 60s, I was at boarding school and in the village lived Dr Charles Warren

https://www.theguardian.com/news/1999/apr/19/guardianobituaries

He came to speak to the school mountaineering club about his climbing adventures in the Garwahl Himalaya and the pre war Everest Expeditions on which he had been Medical Officer.

I got to know him, and he took an interest in my early steps into Mountaineering.

I never went climbing with him but I remember him giving the advice to always go out when you had planned to go, even if it was raining, just adjust the route to a more modest grade when in bad weather, That way, he said, if you get caught out in a storm, you will have a lot more confidence in being able to cope without panicking and be able to extradite yourself, or in the worst case scenario, construct a survivable bivi.

Several times during the next 50 years or so I found myself in "epic" but survivable situations, and I remembered his wise words.

In reply to Osiris:

I was an armchair mountaineer for years while I was at sea. I read just about everything there was to read at the time, and some of it made my palms sweat.

When I eventually got ashore with a better leave rota I went off to Plas y Brenin and spent five days with Mike (Twid) Turner and Tim Neill. 
Best thing I ever did

In reply to Lankyman:

Same as you, Big Wall Climbing and Alan Blackshaw’s mountaineering book on permanent loan from the school library.

Practised all the rock climbing instruction / advice in dingy Lancashire quarry’s.

Most have worked, I’m still here. 

In reply to Osiris:

John Blower was a teacher at Eccles 6th form. Probably indirectly  responsible for me dropping out of a geography degree at 19, but gave me one of the most memorable days on the mountain

In reply to Osiris:

My introduction to climbing was not by choice as all the places on the sailing club had been taken. As a 13 year old the Idea of climbing filled me with dread. 

The first outing was abseiling down Windsplit Quarry in a knotted seat belt harness. Enough to put me off for life.

 The climbing /expedition club was run by the computer teacher, one of the few I got on with. In time with his encouragement I soon got the bug and never looked back. A compete life changer. 

Many years later I discovered he was an accomplished alpinist with some major achievements in the 1970s and also the  first free accent of Regent Street, Millstone in 68.

In reply to kristian: He will also have been a teacher as well as an actor then. He must have been ‘resting’ . FFA of Regent St - Terry King.

In reply to Osiris:

Not a mentor as such, but the person who introduced me to climbing.

In 1981 I went on a course with Gerry Ackroyd of Cuillin Guides which was absolutely fantastic. I remember being quite unfit, his speed in the hills was amazing as we flogged up and down to the climbs.  I have just looked him up, and saw he was awarded an MBE in 2018. Well deserved I think.

In reply to Osiris:

He didn't exactly change my life, but he certainly enriched it and still does. I've known Nino Malfatti for 30 years; he is like me an expat in Berlin, but from Innsbruck. He used to climb with the wild hard bunch in Innsbruck in the 60s; 20 years older than me, he'd had a 10km PB of 35 min in his 30s and still used to burn me off in half marathons aged 55. His speed over easy but dodgy Alpine terrain was amazing, especially downhill, and he completely changed my concept of what "fast" in the mountains meant. We slept once in a rough shelter at the foot of the classic granite north ridge of the Grundschartner in Zillertal, together with another pair. They were off before us in the morning, but we were first to the climb, did the ridge, descended to the hut, ran the 1000m descent to the valley, installed ourselves on the terrace of a café with two large beers, and were just in time to enjoy watching them summit through the binoculars. He'll be 80 in October, had 30% of one lung removed 10 years ago, and we still run up to 18km together once a week. A real inspiration; thanks Nino! 

In reply to McHeath:

Wow, an inspiring person.  I'm really enjoying these vignettes.

I also didn't have a climbing mentor for my first steps on rock - a schoolfriend who had been climbing with his dad took me and we just set out and learned by ourselves. My first encounter with a real climber was with family friend Rudi Vittori, of the Club Alpino Italiano of Gorizia and Trieste, who introduced me to the Italian hitch and to generally faster ways to move than I'd been used to in UK. He drove his Alfa Romeo as fast as he climbed, I recall, and it was always a relief to arrive at the climbing venue to begin the safe part of the day. 

In my late teens with a schoolfriend and his dad, we once climbed North Climb on Pillar Rock with the late Alan Hankinson, who was at the time writing "The First Tigers"  - a history of the early Lake District rock climbers. A day listening to Alan relive the first ascent - and watching him climb in moleskin climbing breeches and long woolen socks - gave me a lasting appreciation of the UK climbing tradition and those who forged it.  

https://grevel.co.uk/lakedistrict/alan-hankinson-genial-author-who-scaled-t...

In reply to Osiris:

Back in the early 80s the hill days of my teens had kind of faded into the past. I was living in South Queensferry (too near the equator for me really) where I had interesting neighbours. One Saturday morning, I waved to the neighbour and popped in for a cuppa.

One hung-over aspiring writer then told me a story about some guy he met in the Forth bar the night before. Apparently, the guy had recently moved in at a flat along the street and he claimed to be a professional climber. He was planning a Himalayan expedition. They had discussed him teaching hillwalker Andy to winter climb then he could come on the trip and later write a book about it. 

We talked about how that sounded in the cold light of day. Met a man in a pub, going to the Himalayas and going to be writing a book. OK.

Mal Duff had indeed moved in along the street and his passions and calm confidence in their execution changed both our lives forever.