An Afternoon Climbing in North London
Arthur Tallon
My daughter phoned me on Saturday night, November 1997, from her home in Brighton. ‘I am going climbing at Finchley tomorrow with some friends. Do you want to come?’.
I ought to explain that when my two daughters were young they showed no interest in mountains or climbing or camping or indeed any of the things that had interested me when I was younger. I know that Fenella (the daughter in question) occasionally went with some friends to climb on indoor climbing walls. To be invited to join three people all about half my age I took it as a compliment and I agreed to meet them at the climbing wall in Finchley. I was also pleased that Fenella actually wanted to share her new hobby with me.
For those readers who have difficulty with the geography of the country south of Rotherham I should point out that Finchley is situated deep in north London.
It is only about 15 miles from where I live in Epping and on a Sunday a mere 40 minutes away by car. The first half of the journey was through Epping forest which at this time of the year looks magnificent with the Autumn colours, then it was through less interesting scenery in Walthamstow, turn left at Tottenham, up Seven Sisters Road and I was there at the Castle Climbing Centre, Finchley.
The building was originally used as a pumping station or processing plant to do with a nearby reservoir but has now been developed as an indoor climbing centre. There was free parking, always a plus point for any London venue and the entrance door carried a notice of the dangers of climbing as a sport. So far, so good! Inside on the ground floor there was a branch of a well known London climbing equipment shop and lots of children being taught to climb on fairly short artificial climbing walls. A sign pointed to the Reception up a system of metal stairs which ascended the equivalent of some three storeys. The large room upstairs was the main climbing area and once one had become accustomed to the greyness of the place, the crowds and climbers, the noise and in spite of the height and length of the room, a feeling of claustrophobia; one had to be impressed with the planning and the layout of the facility.
When I spoke to the woman on the reception desk she asked me if I had coped with the stairs all right. I took this as a test of fitness to use the climbing wall rather than a reference to my age and shortage of breath at the time. She then went through the prices and arrangements and offered me an OAP concession reducing the cost of a visit from £6 to £2.50; almost as good as the reduction that I get on my allotment from Epping Town Council. She did not feel the need to question my claim to be over 65 – a sure sign to me of the onset of Old Age in myself! I had to fill in a registration form and sign to state that I knew how to tie on a rope, how to put on a harness and how to use a belaying devise. I was able to do this having been on an instructor’s course for the ATC to qualify me to take cadets climbing and hill walking, so I could honestly sign to say that I know about ‘figures of eight’ and ‘sticht plates’ and how to use them.
I had to hire a harness from the shop in the basement. This cost me another £1.50. No concessions this time! I had my own rock boots having bought them some years ago and used them in the Lake District with the ATC when we did some top rope climbing on a small crag in the Helvellyn area. This had made them look used and made me feel more experienced.
One side of the climbing area had a climbing wall about 15 ft high and a padded floor (there is no way down from this wall other than by climbing down, jumping or falling off!) This was the boulder area where one can climb without a rope and generally loosen up while waiting for a climb on the main climbing area on the other wall. I was told that this area is also used for ‘bouldering competitions’. At one end of the main wall was an area reserved for ‘lead climbing’. The angle of this ranged from vertical to seriously overhanging with running belays fixed at close intervals up the climbs. The climbs were graded and the holds colour coded so that any combination of difficulty could be attempted. The rest of the wall had top ropes at around two metre intervals and every rope was in use. (‘The busiest Sunday of the year so far!” said the lady on reception). I was instructed on the procedures of climbing walls by Angela who is a competitive climber, i.e. she enters competitions and last year was the South of England Ladies Bouldering Champion. when I was younger I considered myself to be competitive but not like this! What a difference 40 years makes to the climbing scene!
When a rope became vacant my new friends leaped in and claimed it. This was a vertical wall in a corner so, when it was my turn, I was able to use both walls and to my delight and surprise I was able to complete the climb, if not with ease, at least with enjoyment and without too many long pauses. After that we got a rope on another vertical wall and I managed a slightly more difficult climb on this. Next we tried a near vertical slab which proved more difficult partly because there was some competition for the best holds from the young man on the adjacent rope but mainly because my arms were getting tired. There is no respite on these very steep walls and there is a need for more upper body strength than I possess at the moment.
I came away feeling pleased at having passed a pleasant afternoon with my daughter and her friends and having proved to myself that in spite of living miles away from any real crags for the last 36 years (time really does fly) I can still manage to make progress towards the top of a climb on fairly small holds and also enjoy the experience albeit on an artificial climbing wall in north London!
What I would like to do now is to visit the centre during the week when it is not so crowed but I need a fellow OAP or someone else who is free during the week to go with. (You need someone to hold the rope and lower you down after the climb). I cannot think of anyone in Epping who would be free during the week and who would also be willing to have a go at climbing or at least hold the end of my rope. Perhaps I will have to put an advert in the next Saga magazine along the lines of ‘climbing companion (m/f) wanted by Epping pensioner. GSOH required together with enough strength to lower a 12 stone climber down the climbing wall in a reasonably controlled fashion. Transport provided’. Or perhaps it would be easier to encourage my daughter to take me climbing again.