Jamie Andrew reports on the BMC International Meet 2002.

It was with slightly mixed emotions that I set off on the 3rd of May for the long drive from Edinburgh down to Plas y Brenin in North Wales, venue for the BMC International Meet. Apart from at the local wall, it had been a long time since I’d done a significant amount of rock climbing, and I was worried that I just wasn’t going to be up to it.

Moreover, as a disabled climber, I was slightly concerned that I might end up being the ‘token’ disabled guy, left in the sidelines all week only to be paraded out for a group photo at the end in order to ensure that the BMC fulfilled its official equality charter.

But my fears couldn’t have been more unfounded. With a full week of perfect weather (yes there was some good weather this summer – did you blink?), a large contingent of rock hungry climbers from around the globe, and an equal number of equally enthusiastic host climbers from the UK, the meet could hardly fail to have been a success.

Each day the full fleet of packed minibuses pulled out of the Brenin car park and scattered to the many diverse climbing areas of North Wales: The Pass, Idwal, Tremadog, Gogarth, The Ormes, the slate quarries. Literally hundreds of climbs were accomplished across the board of difficulty and climbing styles, from lonely mountain routes on Cyrn Las to boulder problems in top secret locations, wave swept monsters on Gogarth to sunny sports climbs at Pen Trwyn, and from the ever popular favourites on Idwal Slabs to more esoteric desperates on Dinas Cromlech.

Many climbers took advantage of a bit of insider knowledge from veteran activist Pat Littlejohn who led raiding parties to the Lleyn Peninsular where dozens of new routes were put up, many of outstanding quality apparently, although accounts of vertical rubble and falling fridge-sized rocks would be enough to put most sane people off.

But despite all this cutting edge activity, most of those present on the meet will agree that it wasn’t the ascents of high grade climbs that really had people’s heads turning. In fact the most impressive ascents of the week occurred mainly in the lower grades. The theme of this year’s meet was “breaking barriers” and it was good to see that the organisers of the meet had made a special effort to invite disabled climbers from around the world to participate. It was the physical barriers overcome by these various disabled climbers, and their companions, that was perhaps the greatest topic of talk at the dining tables and at the bar each evening.

Davoud Salimabadi-Farahani from Iran was one of the disabled climbers present. Blown up by a landmine during the Iran-Iraq war, Davoud was lucky to escape with his life. Blind in one eye, missing one leg below the knee, horrific scars all over his remaining limbs and with dozens of pieces of shrapnel still lodged in his body, Davoud continues his sporting lifestyle. Apart from going climbing Davoud wrestles, paraglides, plays basketball, and is a black belt in judo. He was most impressed with the climbing in North Wales and made ascents of many routes, including Tennis Shoe (HS), Rap on Gogarth (VS) and Valerie’s Rib (HS).

Mats Tegner from Sweden has cerebral palsy, which makes even walking on a level surface very difficult for him. Nevertheless Mats struggled doggedly to the foot of several crags and made some very fine climbs, the most impressive of which was a complete ascent of Tennis Shoe on the Idwal Slabs (HS). Mats claims to be Sweden’s only disabled climber so hopefully his success will help encourage others.

Tristan Firman from South Africa was born with a withered right arm but he hasn’t let this setback hamper his climbing career. Using the withered arm for balance, and cranking like mad with the good arm, he somehow manages to lead up to E2, a feat which defies many fully able climbers. His ascents on this meet included Falcon (E2) at Tremadog and Cenotaph Corner (E1) in The Pass.

Spaniard Ivan German lost a leg above the knee in a motorcycle accident several years ago. This handicap, however, is no match for Ivan’s powerful enthusiasm, and he will happily hop his way up any route his partner cares to lead.



Ivan’s hardest climb on the meet was seconding Dave Musgrove junior on the extremely strenuous Strike (E3) at Gogarth, but perhaps more impressive was his ascent of Cenotaph Corner. Quite how you hop up a route that is 120 feet of difficult bridging, I don’t know!

Hunza Riha from the Czech Republic is totally blind. Despite this he managed to feel his way up some remarkably difficult climbs. The most heart-stopping of these was the classic Dream of White Horses (HVS) which Hunza balanced across with apparent ease, seeming to find the hand and footholds purely by instinct. For directions Hunza relies to a great extent on shouted instructions from his climbing partners. On Dream, adrift in the middle of that vast slab of rock, with the noise of the sea crashing constantly below, he must have felt very alone.

And of course the BMC sent its very own disabled envoy in the form of President Dave Musgrove, whose left hand was unfortunately shortened by a falling block five years ago, although I’m not sure it’s quite fair to call someone who can climb E5 on Yorkshire Grit disabled!

And so encouraged by this wealth of inspiring characters I felt compelled myself to push back the boundaries of what I had so far attempted on rock since my accident. Having no hands and feet could be regarded as a reasonable inconvenience when it comes to rock climbing, but it is not as many might assume, a complete preclusion. Modern prosthetic legs are lightweight and functional, and whilst they are insensitive and inflexible, if you can get the foot onto a foothold it will generally stay there. It’s a bit like climbing in a pair of rigid, high ankle plastic boots.

The lack of hands is a bigger problem. They are kind of fundamental to the whole thing. Nevertheless I am blessed with a quality pair of stumps which I have trained to be strong and tough. Being articulated by means of the elbows and still further by the shoulders, my stumps have proved to be useful and versatile tools with which I can hook, jam, torque, undercling, and perform various other devious manoeuvres. It hurts like buggery though. I can’t come up with a precise simile but imagine climbing with a pair of ice-axe shafts. No picks or adzes, just the shafts.

Anyway, armed with a selection of new techniques devised and practised over the winter at the Edinburgh Wall, and following in the wake of the ridiculously optimistic Roger Payne, I set out on a mission to push the grades.

Hope (VD) on Idwal Slabs seemed like a reasonable start, although the horribly slippy twin cracks pitch caused some trouble. I had hardly had time for a bite of my Brenin packed lunch when Roger slingshotted on up Lazarus, a difficult severe with an appropriate name in the circumstances. To my surprise I heaved my way successfully to the top.

I might have sat back and rested on my laurels at this point but Roger once again had other ideas. The next day I found myself abseiling nervously into the halfway ledge on Castell Helen. The easiest way out of this spectacular spot is by the steep top pitch of Pel which goes at VS 4b. We managed to split the pitch into three micro-pitches each of which put up a hell of a fight but eventually I found myself sprawled back at the top of the crag feeling once again on top of the world. On a roll now I continued for the rest of the week to struggle up severe and hard-severe pitches at Tremadog and in The Pass, but it was the final day of the meet which provided a fitting climax.
Dave Musgrove, Ivan German and myself decided to team up for an all-disabled assault on a neglected Gogarth classic. An old favourite of Dave’s from his younger days, Bloody Chimney is a steep VS testpiece which lives up to its name. The first pitch, given a technical grade of 4c, is a belligerent and unyielding off-width crack which would more rightly be described as ungradeable.

Dave led up it smoothly enough but when it came to my turn to second I soon found that I was in for a battle. Every inch of altitude was gained at the cost of much struggling, sweating, spitting and kicking. Sometimes it seemed that for minutes at a time I was peddling and clawing and thrutching for all my might only to find myself sliding slowly back down the crack. Eventually, however, after well over an hour of continuous effort, I arrived on the belay ledge, blue-faced and cursing.

Ivan, damn him, hopped onto the stance a few minutes later, politely saying how hard he’d found it. The second pitch was a good, old-fashioned exercise in back-and-footing, deep in the bowls of the chimney. I managed this pitch with a bit more finesse but was put to shame once again by Ivan who strolled effortlessly up it as if a second leg would only have got in the way.

The third pitch, once again graded 4c, was a more relaxed but technically harder exercise in bridging up an open corner which disappeared in an exhausted blur and suddenly it was all over.

We were at the top, spread-eagled in the heather and the campion and the sea-pinks, basking in the afternoon sunlight, and I suddenly realised that my disability didn’t matter anymore. Nor did Ivan’s, nor did Dave’s. All that mattered was that I was in the company of good friends, in a beautiful spot, with lovely weather, having a great day out on the crag. That’s what it’s all about isn’t it?

The theme of this year's meet was “breaking barriers” and I’ve talked mainly about the physical barriers that were broken. Barriers of course can be racial, cultural, social, mental, financial or many other things and these factors all play their part in excluding people from participating in climbing and mountaineering. It would be great in future to see a policy of total inclusion applied throughout our sport as a matter of course, not just as an annual theme. The mountains are there to be enjoyed by all.

And finally big thanks to all the hosts, the staff at PyB and everyone at the BMC for making the meet such a success.

 

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