UKC

OK, this is an unashamedly nostalgic thread for us old timers to indulge in inaccurate and distorted rose tinted recolection's, and for the younglings to poke fun.

So what do you miss about the old days? - in order to appease the sponsors of this thread - Werthers, Dubbin & Stanna - old days means pre 1990's.

I'll start with some predominantly 70's based ones...

Daschtein Mitts.
Beer Mats.
Hitching to destinations.
The Friday night dash to beat last orders at the Tin Y Coed, Vaynol, Padarn, Dog and Gun, ODG, Moon, Clachaig etc etc in old knackered cars.
The first pitch on Saturday morning with a hangover.
Inconistant grading and sandbags - when a Welsh E3 was HVS in the Peak.
Polar Pants & Sweaters.
EB's and thick socks - especially with shorts and vests.
Joe Brown rucksacks - not just a great sac, but a great bivi bag too.
Snells Field & beating the French at table football in the The Bar Nash.
Easter weekend in Pembroke
Taking your duvet or sleeping bag back to the Mountain Equipment factory in Glossop for Pete (Huchinson) and his wonderful girls to repair.
Brews in the YHA shop with the late Uncle Brian.
Classic orange Vango Force 10 tents...

In reply to Goucho:
Black's of Greenock, and Karrimor, representing British craftsmanship and lasting a lifetime, and those Javelin adverts, never did anything so itchy look so good next to bare flesh.

In reply to Goucho:

When a bouldering mat was a beer towel nicked from the pub.

In reply to Goucho:
Buying hexes and chocks and a load of cord to thread them with. double fishermans's.
Buying 1" blue tape and making slings, tape knot.
No harnesses, bowline, waist belay.
Waiting in the car for it to stop raining.
Climbing in the rain.
Climbing on summer evenings, and knowing everyone else there.
Freeing aid routes at Lawrencefield.
Peter Storm cagoules.
Joe Brown hats.
Lock-ins at the Moon.
Fox House was a climber's pub!
The Javlin girl.
Tanky's
Stoney Cafe.
Turning up at Stanage Popular End, seeing no parking space as half a dozen cars were already there, so going to Froggatt instead.

In reply to Goucho:

Objects on the floor not being a significant faff to pick up

Being able to see the gear I'm placing without leaning back so far I fall off

In reply to Goucho:
Busty's in Tremadog
Pant Ifan before some of it fell down
Tony Willmott at the YHA and generally
The Biolay
The Bonatti Pillar

In reply to Goucho:
(I guess I only just get to comment as I started in '89)

A day at a fairly accessible crag still feeling like a day away from civilisation, pre mobile phones.
All ideas that we were somehow "doing a sport" being an afterthought really.
That hands free/tip over move on the Abraham Moss wall traverse.

edit: And people driving their cars into Hobson Moor so everyone could keep bouldering after dark by lighting up sections with headlights.

In reply to Nick Alcock:


Oh yes. Wonderful route.

In reply to Goucho:

Great thread!

I agree with you about racing to get last orders at the Vaynol Arms, but then seriously questioning your judgement as the beer was awful (then).

I miss bouldering grades being just the three: Benign Bumbles, Masterful Maneuvers or Critical concoctions.

Kinder was really in, instead of rarely in.

Jumping over the wall down the pass to sleep under Dinas Mot.

Pete's eats.

Ben Moon's dreadlocks.

Gerry Moffat being God.

Kipping (no, not bivvying) in Parasella's.

There will be more, I'm sure of it!

In reply to Goucho:

More 80s than 70's, I guess:

Knee-length Craghopper breeches
Tartan woolly shirts
Koflach boots
Damart vests and longjohns
Whillans harnesses
Hawser laid rope
Blacks Icelandic sleeping bags
Owning a peg hammer
Lobbing your flaming Primus stove out of your Force 10 tent when you failed to prime it properly

For the younger generation who have no idea what that's about, see http://www.eldon.org.uk/images/history/javlin.JPG

In reply to Mark Bull:


I suppose you realise the younger generations already think we're a bunch of wankers?

speaking of which - how did this ever get into the charts?
youtube.com/watch?v=xXyT1vy3BII&

In reply to Goucho:

Sunday evening pint in Capel Curig because Llanberis was dry on Sundays

In reply to Goucho:

Dachstein mitts are a good call. But mostly what I miss is being younger.

T.

In reply to Goucho:

Quite a few of the ones you say were still the norm in the early 90s, except for we never had cars so it was hitching to the Clachaig/Kingy/Nevisport Bar in time to get a few in before last orders.

I took a sleeping bag back to Mountain Equipment in Glossop in 2000 and they fixed a fault.

In reply to AlanLittle:

And the mad dash for a sunday lunchtime pint in the Oakeley Arms, Maentwrog, for the same reason!

In reply to Goucho:

Correction:


in the Alpenstock

In reply to Goucho:

Not being considered a problem. Re access and generally.

Being able to discuss beta without losing the onsight.

The lack of 'mainstreamness' .

Strength.

In reply to Goucho:

Robert Saunders tents
Scarpa Bronzo boots
Fleece was cool
Rolling up a fag in the Clach
Having a fight in the Clach
ODG full of climbers
Bog wall traverse
Free camping in Wasdale, Glencoe and Cham
Sharing gear
Nicking gear
But most of all I miss climbing being a 'fringe' activity and not mainstream, the culture of it has changed so much I'm not really part of it now...

In reply to AlanLittle:


The Silver Fountain?

In reply to abr1966:



Getting barred twice by big Ian Nicholson.


In battered jeans, ripped sweaters, and duvets patched with gaffa tape


At Avon?


And in the Pass.


And marking your own with a specific coloured tape.


Taking off the tape that was on it, and putting your own on it.

In reply to pneame:



Posh git

In reply to Goucho:

Sixties:
Viking Ropes - hawser laid and as stiff as.
Filing the threads out of machine nuts to thread onto thin loops of the above.
Hemp waist line or direct bowline tie in.
Steel crabs
Soft steel pitons
Stubai hammer that made a hole in the back pocket of yer Levis
Shoulder/waist belay
Blacks Icelandic sleeping bag and Arctic Guinea tent.
Wall End Barn if the Langdale campsite was flooded (often)
. . . and (eyes misting over now) that weekend there with those Sunday School teachers from Bradford . . . .
Collecting folks glasses as they left the ODG and had forgotten they'd put a shilling deposit on them. The free pints the accumulated shillings bought. Not that many shillings per pint either!
Britches - cord or moleskin
Red socks
PAs
Galibier Terrays
A jumper your sister/mother/auntie had knitted.
Peter Storm Cagoule
Grivel 12 pointers
Macinnes Massey all metal axe
Down leaking duvets - always pale blue.
The Dachsteins already oft mentioned.
Maurice at The Nash.

Seventies brought such sophistication as:
Helly Hansen Polar jackets - bought 2 at £4-19-6d each and still have 'em
EBs
RDs
Dachstein mitts!
Orange Whillans Alpiniste sack made when Karrimor was Karrimor
Mountain Magazine and Rocksport
Another tantalising ad in the Javlin mould for a rope called "Black Whip" - anyone remember that?
Taking my Simond (or was it a Charlet Moser?) axe into a little workshop somewhere near Deiniolen to have the pick curved for about thirty bob. Anyone think whose works that was?

In reply to Martin Bennett:









Tough guys never had the flysheet. In a downpoor it was like sleeping in a grid.


With double thickness material on the arse along with 2 huge pockets.






Galibier Super Guides/Super Pro's.


Or Norwegian oiled fishermen jumpers which weighed 3 ton when wet.


My first axe was a Macinnes Thunderbird.


With a yellowy orange lining.


Wonderfully made, but really crap design.


Regular page 3 in Crags.


Denny Moorhouse?

In reply to Goucho:

Jumpers for goal posts.















(Sorry, someone had to say it!)

In reply to Martin Bennett:

Clogwyn climbing gear.

In reply to Goucho:
About half those things can still be and still are being done!

In reply to Goucho:

I'm not sure I actually miss it, but - remember festering?

In reply to Goucho:

My god they used to chew my feet to pieces. I remember walking up to Montenvers - couldn't afford the train - feet bleeding.
And that was before the route.

Oh yes, forgot - home made tape etriers. They hurt your feet too.

Good grief. The black whip. My brother had one - The stretchiest stretchy thing on the market, truly scary.

D

In reply to abr1966:

I'm only 36 and got into climbing in about 1990 through my Dad, and when bouldering at Stanage a few years ago in my ultra-fleece fleece and jeans, it struck me how everybody else was in climbing-branded trousers and shorts and t-shirts etc. It felt vaguely 'fringe' to not be wearing climbing-branded clothing while bouldering. Making other changes since earlier times in climbing more pronounced in comparison I suppose.

In reply to abr1966:


That's a good call too. One of those companies that produced terrific gear that foundered when the owner withdrew and couldn't sell it on (possibly because they'd died). Camera Care Systems, who produced wonderful gear which I still use, were another.

T.

In reply to Martin Bennett:
The excitement of reading the latest edition of Mountain or Rocksport ( later Crags) was the first thing that came to my mind.

In reply to Goucho:

Bloody hell, all this talk of old gear brings a lump to my throat. I still have my Dachstien mitts, Force ten Mk 3 about 30 years old,(its not seen the light of day for donkey's years, Whillans Alpenist and I am still using my Scarpa Cragrats (rock boots the the younger readers) god know's how old they are (you can see how much I climb these days). Sleeping in the back of my Mini van, save drying tents out. Happy days.

In reply to Misha:

Simplicity.
Everything about climbing seemed much simpler back then. Which was a large part of its appeal for a simple soul like me.

In reply to Goucho:

Homophobia, the smoking section on aeroplanes and good old fashioned police corruption.

In reply to Goucho: I genuinely miss my Blacks Icelandic bag and was bewailing this a couple of weeks ago.

Apart from that not much actually. Is it really that different?

In reply to Goucho:

I liked the old sexist adverts (Javelin girl et al) but I don't miss them...we've moved on.

I vaguely miss:

MOACs
The Stoney Cafe
Sitting for hours under cliffs in the rain throwing rocks at stuff...maybe I'll do this again when I retire

But above all I miss the newness of it all; fist autumns on grit, first ab into a sea cliff, first big mountain routes...but, thankfully, I'm as keen as I ever was

In reply to Bob Aitken:


My Dad often describes drinking four pints on an empty stomach in the Quiet Woman pub before soloing in the dark with his mates while wearing head torches during the 70's, with an air of things being simple.

I guess climbing itself probably is still simple in concept and the actual going climbing itself, once you've decided on what to have in your rack?

In reply to planetmarshall:


In other words nothing to do with climbing. If you're going to use a light hearted thread to make a political point, make it a relevant one.

In reply to Goucho:
I agree, but if nobody replies it won't 'be important'.

In reply to Goucho:

Well you didn't actually specify the subject. And that was light hearted. Lighten up, old man.

In reply to abr1966:

Was actively planning not to add to this thread but couldn't resist. I have been unable to throw away my utterly knackered and worn out Scarpa Bronzo boots which took from me from starting to hill walk in the UK to a Himalayan peak, with quite a lot in between. I'm going to buy a mahogany glass-fronted case to put them in, along with an old original Friend or two.. My Saunders Jet Packer tent still gets rare outings.

But in the end there is not too much I miss about climbing in the 80's when I started.

In reply to Goucho:

Just general outdoors....

The arrival of polartec.
Wax coats.
Rubber waterproof trousers (I think they were rubber? Green things).
Hard slog whilst wearing acrylic.
Corduroy being ' proper' outdoor trousers despite it being as bloody wet and heavy as jeans!
T shirts with fuzzy writing and a joke about hang overs.

In reply to Timmd:


Ah but I go back to the days before harnesses, and thus long before racks ...

In reply to ultrabumbly:


I don't remember that, but then I was never a regular there. And I have long arms, so I wonder if you might be referring to the move I recall as a full span crucifix between two monos?

In reply to Timmd:


Ah yes. The original ME Ultrafleece. Best fleece ever made. Still have one of those grey and yellow pullovers. Although it doesn't really fit me anymore.

In reply to Goucho:



Cobdens

In reply to AlanLittle:

yup, that was the one

In reply to AlanLittle:


Of course, I think I'm getting confused with when all of Gwynedd was dry on Sunday apart from the Silver Fountain in Betws y Coed?

In reply to Goucho:


No!
I quickly learnt the error of my ways! Although it became quite nice and friendly just before it became McDs (late 90s). And in fact the National had gone all upmarket then - to my horror.

so, like Martin Bennet, I missed Maurice carefully counting the change. One of the two people in Cham who liked the English. The other, of course, being Snell of the eponymous store

In reply to Goucho:

Whillans rucksac, whillans harnes, gollies, being the only party on the cliff, moacs, singsong in the Clachaig, waist belays.

In reply to Goucho:
Mad Friday night dashes up the motorways and roads for the Sat morning climb before the explosion in the number of vehicles brought everything to a grinding halt.
Weekends away being weekends away before FB and forums etc.
Baggy Neoprene waterproofs (yes I know Goretex came out in the 70's)
Popular routes meaning more than one ascent a month and no polish
Shops being run by genuine and interesting enthusiasts

In reply to Goucho:

Guidebooks of a usable size

In reply to Goucho:

The days when "multipitch" was neither a noun nor a verb and barely an adjective.

And when not washing on climbing trips was normal.

In reply to Goucho:

If I still use dachsteins,,does that mean I am old?

In reply to Goucho:

Climbing Scottish VS's

In reply to Goucho:
Lawrie's shop in South Ken
Wooden Axes
Stiff hawser
Hemp waistlenghts (which cut you in 2 if you fell off)
Getting a pint at Pen y Pass when it was a pub
4 or 5 of you crammed into a mini van on a Friday night going to Wales, Lakes, and even Scotland!
Fairly quite on the Ben when good conditions prevailed (not that often)
The two fantastic winters in the late 70's early 80's when it went down to -28C!
A new editor takes over at Mountaineering Issue no 84. Some unknown called Ken Wilson
A pint of mild was 1s/7d (4p today!)
Blacks good Companions 'A' pole tent
A new gear shop in Birmingham opens...Frank Davies
A month's holiday in the Alps costs as much as £30!
You still went to Stanage on a wet windy cold day in December instead of the climbing wall
The polish on Altrinham Wall and oggling the girls doing aerobics in the big hall
Big Ron soloing everything at Stanage/Millstone/Froggatt
The Ron Hill seconds' shop in Stalybridge
You listened to the Beatles on your 'Tranny' (not what you younger lads are thinking!)
You could easily fit a guide book in your pocket! (remember the old yellow Froggatt guide)
The hardest routes were only VS (which actually could be E2 or even E3!)
The only rucksac was either a Bergen or ex-war dept haversack
Cooking on an open fire and nobody bothered
When the Youth Hostels were actually full of young people (not foreigners or pensioners)
A new climbing book only appeared once every 4 or 5 years
Magazine and book photos were small with piss poor reproduction
You couldn't check up on the weather for a mountain area (a very basic forecast)
You got rope burns when someone fell off!

In reply to Robert Durran:



So go on Rob, what's your record for soap dodging on a trip?

In reply to Goucho:

Friday night fish and chips in Stoney, lock-in in the Royal Oak, sleep in the woodshed or on the petrol station forecourt, Stoney caff breakfast, ticking the routes on High Tor.
Cleaning EBs on a beer towel nicked from the Royal Oak
Drive to Cham in a knackered Escort van, Snell's field, dancing on the tables at New Year in the Bar National
Pre-cams when grit was scary
The Red Lane wall traverse in Sheffield
Quiet crags in the peak
When there were new routes every month in Crags, High and On the Edge
Repeating Allen and Bancroft routes when they were new
When the only beta was word of mouth, apocryphal nonsense and routes were still adventure

In reply to Goucho:

When climbing was climbing, not trad, sport, bouldering, multipitch et al

In reply to Goucho:

Peace and quiet in the mountains.

The mystery.

Climbing outdoors every weekend of the year,


Chris

In reply to Goucho:

Guide books that were smaller than an iPhone.

Wasdale head!



Good shout! I has some distinctive green and yellow tape!

In reply to Marek:

Mine was black, and the zip eventually broke. It lasted for 12 years or something though. Not bad for a fleece since I often used it in every day life as well.

In reply to Goucho: I miss being different from the crowd and Eb's , I don't miss hawser laid ropes, waist belays and climbing in big boots before we could afford rock boots (dread to think what would have happened if boyfriend twice my size fell off!)
Dorine

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:










what about kipping on Windy Ledge. The sound of blasting in the quarry over the road, Goddards?

In reply to Goucho:

Terry's Festerhaunt

Black Whip adverts: http://www.smhc.co.uk/objects_item.asp?item_id=33007

The challenge of foot placements when wearing flares

Crags magazine

In reply to Climbingspike:


I wonder if it was. What I recall is a stone building on a minor road junction somewhere between Bethesda and Llanberis when going the over the hill way - then very familiar; now a distant memory not having staid in Bethesda for years.

In reply to Chris Craggs:




We did didn't we? I well remember chipping the ice off the first moves of Hubris at Deer Bield one February morning, my EBs deep in the wet moss of the ground beneath. And doing the route! Would I walk over an hour to a crag in The Lakes to go rock climbing in February today? Not on your Nellie.

In reply to Goucho:

Sutty, Norrie, Sloper, Mick Ryan, JCT, Marc C, BrianT, Duncan Bourne, Nick Alcock (Postmanpat?), Niggle, Horse, Rothermere, soapy, Ste Brom... Others I've enjoyed bantering with, but whose names escape me.

And John Rushby, back when he was still funny.

In reply to JimR:



Oh yes - Gollies. Not only all but useless but made yer socks blue. I had 2 pairs. Also the not dis-similar Cragrats as mentioned by someone earlier, and their offspring Superrats. After the demise of EBs the first boot that was any good was the Asolo Canyon - first attempt at sticky rubber. Then the Fire? Though I was fond of my big clumpy rhubarb and custard coloured Hanwag Crack Specials.

In reply to Goucho:

As someone said on here already, MOACs (see picture uploaded to historical section)...plus:

Arvons (Bethesda)
Tea shack in Ogwen
Most of Deer Bield
Most of Leicestershire quarries
Mad exploration in Craig Cowarch
Cold winters
Mountain Magazine
Harry Robinson's in Lancaster
Being able to drive easily overland to Asia
Line drawings of crags to add mystery
New routes book in Franks
Buying my first climbing kit
Overtaking cars between Ruabon and Capel
Overtaking cars between Carnforth and Windermere
Belay gloves
W.A. Poucher books

Lots more too. Great thread.

In reply to 3leggeddog:


My weekly (daily?) lament. Far too much thought going into it. Beta and on-sights (as often as not spelt wrongly), redpoints headpoints highballs lowballs no balls . . . . just climb the bugger.

In reply to Clauso:
Hijacker

In reply to Clauso:

D.J.Viper maybe...?

In reply to Greenbanks:




Oh yes. you could always park outside. And he had a half share in a shop in Blackburn for a while. I bought a pair of Cassin Icefall axes in it's closing down sale. Not long after he retired and his wife oversaw the move of the shop to the new premises as Ultimate Outdoors. And now it's JD Sports/Blacks/Millets. And they call that progress.

In reply to Martin Bennett:

That's were it all started then moved down to Deiniolen and Clwt y bony. The blacksmith that did them was called Gwynfa, a nice chap who knew his trade. I worked there and he did one of my axes. Later we made axes so there was no more call for bending axe picks.

In reply to Goucho:


33 days and with, of course, no change of underpants.

In reply to Goucho:

Staying in the "Gardeners Shed" at the back of the Clachaig. It was so cold that the Special Brew froze in the can.

Bivvying in the Bridge of Orchy station waiting room on the way from Sheffield to Scotland. It had one of those single bar electric heaters operated by a timed button push button switch. If you taped down the button you got heat all night.

Being banned from the Bryn Tyrch after doing pull ups on the steel beam outside the bar and smashing the fluorescent tube with my head.

Being very sick on the abseil down into Castell Helen after a night in the pub and a large breakfast at Pete's Eats.

Rohan salopettes.

In reply to Robert Durran:

I've recently discovered that it's possible to wash your underpants and, after wringing them out in a hearty way, put them back on again without catching a chill, so long as you're active and well clothed while they're wettest.

A top tip for anybody who habitually forgets to put on a wash or who's off into the mountains

In reply to Climbingspike:


Thanks for that. The axe in question I had found with a broken shaft on a ledge on The East Face of The Dent du Requin. I took it to the factory in Chamonix to fit a new shaft and asked them to curve it like the (then newly available) Curver axe. They indignantly refused with a "that's the way we designed it and that's the way it'll stay" hence the visit to Clog on return from th' Alps. I still have it - it's beautiful.

In reply to wilkesley:


Was once set up for a luxury bivi in the ladies toilets (they were nicer than the gents and with more seats) at Loch Muick with the hand dryer jammed on with an ice axe getting everything dry. Got thrown out by an irate and really quite abusive woman.

In reply to Robert Durran:

Toilet bivi's could be a thread in itself! Had a great nights sleep in those toilets in Patterdale near the White Lion pub once after a mate got us banned from the youth hostel for 'lewd behaviour'...
Women's toilets in Glenridding on the se trip with a lass getting in the showers whilst we were there...great occasion as a 16 year old!
Worst toilet bivi.....crianlarich toilets, getting threatened by a big pissed scots bloke!

In reply to Goucho:

tying one's own slings with tubular tape with a waterknot ( sheet bend) and making sure they are tightened BEFORE use

In reply to Goucho:

Starting every trip to the peaks at Grindleford cafe.
Being so interested that we actually read the bumpf attached to climbing gear.
Small guide books.
Lusting after Catherine Destivelle.
The obligatory pit stop at The Golden Rule 80s/90s
Johnny Lockley, bright eyed and bushy tailed.
A bonus Saturday afternoon lock-in.
Car engines that were simple enough to fix yerself

In reply to Clauso:



You forgot Al Downie.

Mostly I miss the nostalgia; it's just not what it used to be.

In reply to 3leggeddog:


Agree. Those early green-edged CC guides - to Tremadog, the Pass, Gogarth, Ogwyn etc were my bibles as a kid and sat on my bedside table (on top of my real Bible) for lamplight reading every night before drifting off wondering how difficult a Hard Very Severe would be to do. There were even some Extremes - blimey!
Had just led my first Very Severe (with a horrible fall in my Troll waistebelt) and thought it was the living end. Not to be perturbed I set off on a HVS the next day after school and cruised it. An Extreme a few weeks later.
Ah, I weep for those days.

In reply to abr1966:


Avon ladies bog. Had hand dryers so only needed to reach up and hit the button every minute or so til the joint was warm as toast.

In reply to Goucho:

I only started climbing in' 88 but off the top of my head :

Kamet Joshua Trees
Troll Omnis.
Wearing Ron Hills pretty much the whole time at university (sorry to everyone else)
My North Cape fleece jumper- wish I still had it.
Climber & Rambler
The hot plate thing that held the bridies in the Clachaig.
Belaying with a fig 8 that weighed loads.
Mountain magazine.
The Pocketz cartoons in OTE.
Making Big Ron fall off a problem at Caley.
Seeing Dennis Gray bouldering at the Henry Price wall.
The old indoor wall at Leeds Uni.

In reply to Goucho:




You can still get these.


As above... (unless I'm missing something? Or you mean beer towels for boulder "mats")


Sometimes still happens - mainly in Europe though, less successful in the UK as eveeryone thinks you're going to murder them and pillage the remains.


Old knackered cars still exist - although they're clearly leagues above those of old. Inflation and wage depression means we now drink Frosty Jacks or cheap wine to save money, so you just need to stop at a Spar en route.


Ever drunk a bottle of Frosty Jacks or £3 corner shop wine?


Things that would get HVS in Wales still get E3 in the Peak





I'll give you all of these.


Have you been in the past few years? Its always mentally busy.


Sad I'm too young for this.


No idea. We all drink coffee these days.


Still see the odd one about! Normally with an associated grey bearded man/lady I must admit.

In reply to Goucho:

Making our own aluminium nuts in school metalwork class.
Buying all your climbing clothes in the Army and Navy Store.
Leather gauntlets to stop rope burns.
Alan Blackshaw's bible.
Aid climbing at Millstone with Don Morrison.

In reply to Goucho:
Things I miss and don't miss

Things I miss:

The MOAC (number one item)
Hemp waistlines (honestly - their smell alone)
The Tarbuck knot - brilliant, though it needed constant checking to see that it wasn't falling apart (still very good for improvised guy ropes)
Buying hexes and chocks and a load of cord to thread them with.
Buying 1" blue tape and making slings with the tape knot.
Climbing in jeans with holes in the knees (had a certain charm, despite not being able to move legs freely)
Ron Hills, when they first came out, for freedom of movement
A Norwegian woollen sweater (with natural oil).
Dachtein Mitts.
Terry's Festerhaunt
The ODG full of climbers (and the route book)
The Bar Nash
Amazing wild, debauched sing-songs at the Bar Nash, ODG, PYG and Padarn Lake in winter (when EVERYONE used to 'sing', and wasn't embarrassed by it)
The traditional London trip to Cornwall in Easter
The Optimus stove
Wendy's Cafe, Llanberis
Alan Blackshaw's 'Mountaineering'
The old ultra-succinct CC guidebooks, particularly to Llanberis North, Cwm Idwal, Tryfan & the Glyders, and Cloggy
Early editions of Mountain Magazine
Sensibly small racks of gear
Peg hammer and one's own treasured pegs (on Alpine routes)
When multi pitch routes were just called routes, and we made no real distinction between single and mulitpitch routes (though mostly regarded the former as inferior)
Abseiling with no fuss and no back-ups.
Climbing (... not really ... poor eyesight means I can't enjoy it any more)
The amount of laughter and fooling around
Not worrying too much about the grade, or the technical grades, and climbing on-sight with minimum of 'beta' (the word didn't exist anyway!)

People I miss:

The 60s crowd at Harrison's Rocks
Beardie playing the guitar, singing his own songs.
Tony Wilmott (at the YHA, and at the crag)
John Syrett
Ken Wilson
Eric Jones
Maurice at the Nash
Emil Perren, Heinrich Taugwalder, and the old guides in Zermatt, 1966, 1967

Things I don't miss:

Excruciating Black's Masters boots without socks, and with v unsticky soles.
EB's and thick socks
Climbing breeches
Hairy woollen shirts
Suntan cream that didn't work
Tape slings coming undone
c80% of early wire nuts falling out.
Climbing HVS with a single stiff, hairy hawser-laid Black's Viking nylon rope = massive rope friction
Showell Styles' 'Mountaineering'
Hitching to destinations
Snells Field (sordid and unhygienic beyond beyond description)
Classic orange Vango Force 10 tents.
The Black's Good Companion tent (which leaked like a sieve)
The old climbers' bar at the Clachaig
Climbing in jeans with holes in the knees (very impractical, couldn't bend leg without pulling up some slack at knees first)
No chalk
Old nylon cagoules which leaked like a sieve.

In reply to Goucho:

Two crabs clipped together pretending to be an extender
Sleeping in your Haston Alpiniste 'bivvy extender'
Dachsteins
Troll Mk 5
Cracking your knee with a Hex 10
Your stolen car being recovered in Toxteth, everything in place except a Sibelius cassette and an ice axe

In reply to Gordon Stainforth:


My first boots were Masters. I don't recall them being particularly uncomfortable but you're right about the lack of grip. I remember being taken up John Peel (Dovedale) as my first HVS with my feet slowly sliding off the (even then) rather polished traverse and being told that I'd be getting some proper EBs if I wanted to get up anything harder.


Yes, the 'club ropes' were Viking and they weighed a ton. They did seem to work though...

In reply to Goucho:

Traditional Scottish reserve. It used to be the case that people would do amazing and sometimes quite startling things in the hills but scarcely make any mention of it afterwards. Information had to be crowbarred out of them and even then it was couched in terms of downplaying and humility. It was frustrating from a research point of view but nice in its way and led to any new knowledge feeling like it had itself been hard-won. (Bob Aitken will very likely have encountered examples of this too.)

These days, by contrast, if you go to the trip report sites for instance they tend to be crammed with people who have done completely routine and mundane things - a walk up Ben Lomond, say - but who want to let the world know and the world duly applauds and cheers with strings of semi-literate emoticons etc. You get it in real life on hilltops too, with people more keen to pose for selfies than to look at the view or sit down and eat their lunch. Scottish reserve still exists, for sure, but the modern world seems to be undermining it and the recent political situation hasn't helped, with what passes for discourse often being little more than shouting and showing off on social media.

In reply to Goucho:

Stoney Middleton Café - New routes book, if not for the routes for the banter and humour.

In reply to Mark Bull:


And then there was the girl in the Edelrid Rope advert -- going, going, gone!

In reply to Dave Garnett:


I have quite wide feet. Also, we had this idea that to climb well your boots had to be half a size (at least) too small!

EB's seemed like a gigantic step forward. I remember tripping over with them the first time I used them on Gimmer because there was so much friction. Firés when then twice as sticky again, and the whole of climbing got about a grade easier.


Well, they didn't break ... saved your life etc

In reply to Goucho:

Doing the Skye ridge in 1961 and only meeting four other people along the whole of the ridge on a perfect day in August!

In reply to Goucho:
The excitement and adventure of "the first time". The first time to actually see Snowdon from Plas Y Brenin for real, the first time to get into the club van on a Friday evening and arrive in Langdale at 2am, the first time to climb up into the clouds, the first time to scramble under Bosigran, the first time to see the an Alpine dawn, the first time to place gear and know it's all down to you if it goes wrong

It can never quite have the same thrill again but I almost recaptured it this summer, doing my first ever climb on Scafell after 40 years of climbing .(Botterills). Magical.

INTO my heart on air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

In reply to Dave Hewitt:


I don't think there's any harm in that. Good for them in getting outdoors. As Steve House said, one person's Diamir Face is another's West Buttress ( or Ben Lomond ).

In reply to Goucho:

Climbing out of doors whatever the weather every weekend
When North Wales was the Mecca of climbing and Cloggy the Ka'aba
When one only climbed grit because the limestone was out of condition
The mad drive up on a Friday evening to get a route and/or a pint in before dark/closing time. Ditto the dash down to get to the pub on the Saturday evening.
Nipping out after work in summer to get an evening at Ilkley followed by a fish and chips at Harry Ramsden's (before it became smart). Ditto evenings at Harrisons
My first curved short axe given me by Mo. My first Whillans Harness. Before the days when my new partner said he would not climb with me unless I used a Sticht plate. My RDs and the first time I did a major route in the Dolomites not in big boots. When the Dolomite big routes were in vogue and the Cinque Torre a pis aller
Pouring over guide books and mags in the loo so as to know by heart the info concerning Alpine objectives and research new possibilities.
Big Alpine ice routes before modern techniques and I decided it was time to give them a miss
Above all the days when the British big boys went to the Alps and mixed with the neophytes in the Nash. What an atmosphere.

In reply to Goucho:

The smell of tincture of benzoin/friars' balsam and chalk in the summer and wet dachsteins in the winter.
As above, the Javelin and Black Whip ads.
Those Bonaiti krabs with the orange gate that could take lumps out of your fingers.
The thinner Troll super-blue tape hand tied as quick draws
Clog figure of 8s with huge grooves worn in them by haswer laid rope
Rummaging through the box of seconds in the Clog factory
Stitcht plates with springs
Galibier Super Guide and Super pro boots
Rock with little bobbles of Helly Hansen fleece stuck to it
Hexes and Chouinard stoppers threaded with 5mm string
Useless Clog single taper wedges on massively stiff wire
Gary Gibson's roll of red tape
Scarpa Bronzo boots - as above - mine finally went in the bin three weeks ago
Canvas, non-sweaty gaiters
Rohan breeches (and the Ra knock-offs)
Massive wooly balaclavas
Chouinard rigid crampon meccano kits
Terrordactyl knuckle
Bouldering as a pastime at the end of a proper day's climbing
Eric's cafe mid-week
Petrol for sale at Eric's cafe
Eric's barn in the winter, with straw and mattresses on the floor, leaks and a shonky old table and a few chairs. Vesta meals cooked on a Trangia.

In reply to Goucho:

I'm still using my Dachstein mitts.

Moac Originals. A friend is still using his, and compared with modern nuts they're absolutely crap, unless you find a placement which is exactly right for them. Back in the day we thought they were the dog's.

Wendy's Cafe, and the wooden tea hut at Ogwen

Staying in Humphrey's Barn.

Hawkins Walkin's

In reply to planetmarshall:


I completely agree in terms of the actual getting out to wherever, but do they need to make such a song and dance about it? It feels a very different world in those terms than before the arrival of online stuff 20-odd years ago, and particularly since the explosion of social media and all that goes with it in the past decade or so. Makes me feel increasingly oldfashioned...

In reply to Mr Moac:


i forgot post-pub ascents of the routes off Windy Ledge with headtorches. Great days

In reply to nniff:

Eric's barn - except for the rats after it had been unoccupied, except for waste food, for a few days!

In reply to Goucho:

Stoney cafe by a long way.Ease of parking , the routes book and the grub was not bad.

Bradwell cafe if you want to have some verbal entertainement.

Less crowds and traffic.

Other than that things are alot better.

In reply to Gordon Stainforth:

You forgot to mention the dubious technique we called "rotation of socks" (inspired by "rotation of crops") when we were camping for weeks in soggy conditions with no prospect of washing and drying our socks!

In reply to AP Melbourne:


I do remember my mate Sean Coffey asking whether I minded giving some scruffy individual answering to your description a lift from Stoney back to Sheffield back in about 1982 or so...

In reply to Gordon Stainforth:

The only problem with the Moac was it was too popular, e.g. you would find your partner had used it in the main belay so you didn't have it for the next pitch!

In reply to Goucho:

I don't miss any gear. I'm completely un-nostaglic about non-permiable shells, one-size-fits-nothing-well hardwear, or hydrophilic tents that took weeks to dry. I can't think of a single item of gear that hasn't been markedly improved upon. In particular, modern climbing footwear is designed to actually improve on bare feet!

I don't miss how social interaction couldn't occur without being half-drunk.

I don't miss the monoculture and the casual misogyny and homophobia that went with this (not limited to climbing of course).

The grip of rampant consumerism is a bit disappointing but, again, not confined to climbing.

I miss my naivety and fearlessness.

I miss being part of the in-crowd but that's better than being mutton dressed as lamb.

I most miss a few good friends who checked-out too soon.

In reply to Goucho:

I miss the naive, uncommercialised, simplicity of it all and the fact that it was not a mainstream activity.

But seeing as how I have embraced the full technological revolution that seems a little hypocritical.

Al

In reply to Gordon Stainforth:

Wendy's Cafe, still the best toast I've ever had - Sunblest soaked in Stork...mmmmm.

In reply to flaneur:


You could just be in a slightly older in-crowd...

I agree about most of your other points though.

In reply to John Stainforth:


But in the right placement, it was (and still is) the best piece of gear ever.

Of course the most useless, eminating from the same era, we're those stupid small brass hex's - forget who made them.

In reply to Postmanpat:



One of the great things about climbing, is there are just so many 'first times' to experience. Your first time at a crag, or rock type or grade etc.

And of course those first times you arrive at the places you've spent all those hours on the bog reading and dreaming about.

Finally making those tentative strides into the footsteps of climbing folklore, acompanied by that shiver down the spine, a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

Halcyon days indeed.

In reply to Goucho:

- Waterproofs that covered your arse and kept your crotch dry, rather than the rash of hipsters available now.
- Popping into Karrimore near Blackburn to get my gauranteed for life rucksack repaired (Hot Rock).
- Climbing May to July before the RSPB became a force and society in general re-discovered Mother Nature and started worshipping the spirits of the woods and fields again.
- Banging up the M1/M6 in a mk1 Fiesta, engine squeeling but still in the left hand lane, every other Friday night to get to the hills.
- Knees that worked without complaint
- Rohan "bags"
- The first generation Swatch watch which was cheap, a nice blue colour, and indestructable. I climbed, snorkelled, camped, slept with the damn thing on and apart from a scratched glass it went on and on. Sadly I lost it. No watch has ever lasted more than a year since.
- Real men that didn't squirt re-branded girl spray all over their bodies. YHA mens dorms now stink like a brothel.
- As a climber being thought of as a bit weird. I'm still thought of as a bit weird, but for different reasons.

In reply to Goucho:

Breaking your feet in Galibier Super Guides.
Polar Pants.
Helly Hansen sweat boxes.
Molecord Breeches.
MOAC originals.
Karrimor sacs when they were the best.
Battered EB's held together with tape.
Making your own slings and runners.
Your first Whillans harness.
Terradactyles.
Wintergear Mitts.
That first time on Snells Field.
When XS could mean anything from a nice romp to a complete trouser filler.
Ron James classic guide to Wales.
Stoney Cafe.
Dossing on Windy Ledge after a skinful in the Moon and doing the obligatory opening 2 moves of Our Father.
Humphries Barn, the Engine Shed and Woodman Shed.
Hitching everywhere.
Camping for free in the Pass.
The ODG on a Saturday night when it was filled with scruffy climbers and singing.
The wet and mud in the climbers bar of the Clachaig in winter.
Vango Force 10 tents.
Your first Mountain Equipment duvet - usually a Cerro Torre cause it was the cheapest and better in the wet.
Friday night dashes to beat last orders.
Saturday nights in the pub after a great days climbing.
Crags & Mountain magazines.
The first time down the Luna Bong ab at Verdon.
Climbing no matter what the weather.
Bouldering for fun at the end if the day and as a precursor to getting smashed in the pub.
The huge characters and personalites that seemed to be all around.
Being young.
The adventure of it all.

In reply to Goucho:
Classic abseils (my nether regions have never been the same since)
Climbing in two tone loons, couldn't see my feet and they soaked up water like the proverbial sponge
When being gay meant you were happy and care free
cobdens and the annual English vs Welsh beer drinking contests
Dachsteins
Oiled sweaters
Hitching everywhere including Europe
Drilling out my fathers stock of nuts and claiming it wasn't me!
Tolerant policeman who let me off because I was a climber (ford Thames van packed with six of us with all our kit, no insurance or mot or tax)
Waist belays
Scottish VS (which meant you were going to die)
Colin Kirkus routes which taught me mind chess
The same six (see above) in a two man bivy tent (two of whom are sadly dead now)
Being able to climb in llanddulais with a happy land owner who liked climbers before the modern genre pissed him off
Being able to leave my kit anywhere and knowing it would still be there
When climbing was a way of life and still is to me.

In reply to Goucho: sat

Catching the Friday night bus from Manchester to Stoney with Black Nick, John Tout and rest. Beer in The Moon, doss in the engine shed and breakfast in Stoney cafe, which for some reason everyone called Eric's. Climb, cafe, Moon, chip shop etc, bus back to Manchester Sunday evening.

In reply to Goucho:

God, this thread reeks of inverted snobbery!

The only thing I miss about climbing in the 70s and 80s is the ability to jump in the car on a Friday afternoon and drive somewhere. Nowadays weekends are spent avoiding motorways.

In reply to Rigid Raider:


It does invite extensive taking of piss. However, it's hard to do better than this -

youtube.com/watch?v=Xe1a1wHxTyo&

In reply to Goucho:

60's
Living in a place called Caernarfonshire.
My dad and Denny sawing and drilling metal in our barn, home made gear later to become Clog then DMM.
My mum in the garden shed sewing mountain duvet equipment for mountaineers.
My first multi-pitch rock climb with a mate using a "borrowed" rope (no other gear), we were both six years old.
My mum working at Wendy's cafe and me watching the climbers come and go, some odd clothing back then.
Playing at Christmas with my new Scalextric with Al Harris
...and much more.

70's
Climbing trees with John Brailsford's eldest son (also done this in the 60's)
My first new route with my dad at Tremadog and a cup of tea at Mrs Williams petrol station.
Moving to Cornwall
First new routes in Cornwall with my dad
First new routes of my own with local Cornish boys the three Peplow brothers.
Falling off Suicide Wall in a Willans harness and being brought to tears by crushed nuts.
Making our own quickdraws...
Asking Troll to sew quickdraws for us.
Wearing a full body harness
First Alpine routes and walking from the valley as there were no lifts back then.
...and much more.

80's
Leading E5 when E5 was the top grade
Climbing the first E7 in the area (Tears of a Clown)
Going back many times to Wales to stay with and climb with the late Ed Stone.
Climbing with the late Paul Williams.
...and much more.

In reply to Goucho:

One more - how could I forget - the unmistakeable fading and recovering sound of Radio 1 on a Friday night on an AM radio in the hills - Tommy Vance and John Peel in particular. The sound track to every Friday and Sunday night. For some reason always associated mentally with winter, lashing rain and a steamed up mini-bus

In reply to flaneur:

Absolutely agree with you. I love the choice of modern gear, I love being able to choose between sport and trad, it's great to have climbing walls and winter sun destinations instead of waiting all winter for good conditions. (And as Dave Garnett says, there are plenty of older in-crowds - mostly out mid-week!)

The references on here to Javelin jacket ads only remind me what I don't miss!

Like you, I miss absent friends, and like others I miss that magical enthusiasm of youth which I don't think can be recaptured.

In reply to heleno:

It's interesting to have more than one take on 'how things were' on this thread, with it being before my time.

In reply to Goucho:

I miss the simplicity of just going out climbing in my very early days. I wore my old clothes, walking boots and an anorack. I took a Viking no 3 rope, 2 spliced neck slings, and a knapsack containing a thermos flask, sandwiches, cycling cape and a sou'wester.

I also miss the singing of climbing songs during evenings sessions with my mates in the climbers' pubs.

In reply to Rigid Raider:



It would be inverted snobbery if it was a thread about how things were better in the old days. But it's not, therefore it's not.

It's a light hearted thread about things you miss from the old days.

As a species, we are hard wired to engage emotionally on a far stronger level with the experiences of our formative years, whether it's music, film, books or climbing.

I bet you can remember the name of the first VS you did, far easier than the fifteenth, in the same way you can probably remember the name of the first person you slept with easier than the fourth?

In reply to Goucho:

You mean people sleep with more than one person? Damn.... I missed out there.

I loved the bit in Ned Boulting's book How I Won the Yellow Jumper where the ITV team are teasing Chris Boardman. Somebody asks: "So Chris, how many kids have you got?" Boardman looks up from his laptop and replies laconically: "I've got six, but I've only had sex six times in my life. I'm just very efficient!"

In reply to Goucho:

Buying a troll climber belt then getting the leg loops on next pay day

Spending helmet money on more important things like original solid stemmed friends

Doing the hoovering or washing up at a youth hostel

In reply to Goucho:

How uncomplicated it all seemed

knotted tape slings
EB's but then I missed them soon after I bought then as some one borrowed/stole them.
Sleeping in the barn at Froggatt
Karrimats
Steel crampons with those awful neoprene/rubber straps that were a pain to tight
the cafe in the Peak District where the guy had weight lifting kit in the customer area.
that you didn't have to go to the climbing wall when it was raining

One of them threads that makes me feel old.

In reply to Goucho:

Boreal Bambas

In reply to BazVee:

EB's were rubbish, though, my Dad's pair hung around in the 'climbing cupboard' for ages at home, and modern boots are better.

In reply to Goucho:

With a mainly 80's emphasis:

Route descriptions at places like Pen Trwyn or Llangollen that mainly read like; 2BR, 4TR, 1PR, BB, AO.

The greasy spoon cafe at Llanymynech Quarry. Long since demolished, there's a 'new' house there now.

Yankee Doodle at Lands End.
Yankee Doodle (E2 5b)

Most importantly climbing friends that have been lost along the way. Gone but not forgotten.

In reply to Goucho:

' you can probably remember the name of the first person you slept with easier than the fourth?' Funnily enough I remember my fourth quite clearly, not least because I met her in Chamonix! (I'd led a sheltered life.) And Chamonix in the 70s was great - the feeling that everything and anything was possible, you just had to go for it and it would all fall into place (or not - we got spanked on South Face of the Fou, and quite a few never came back.) Dave Bradney wrote a great article about that feeling in an early High magazine, which coincidentally had an article by McIntyre about the previous season, which in turn contained a reference to said young lady...

I miss hitch hiking - packing my sac then heading for Scotland or Lands End, knowing that I certainly wouldn't get there that day and wondering where I would sleep...

Sleeping in Humphries Barn, Tremadog barn or under the Cromlech boulders were all good. The Ron James guidebook was a thing full of promise and delight, even if the grades were well dodgy. Cups of tea and Wagon Wheels with the Williams at Tremadog garage. Having Cloggy to ourselves (and nearly getting killed on Great Slab, because my 120' rope wasn't long enough to reach a good stance and my mate fell off the first moves - perhaps not so good.)

I miss the shame you felt at having shiny new gear, fortunately we didn't have much of it and it soon lost its shiny-ness!

In reply to Goucho:
1960s

Driving from London to N Wales via the M1 to Rugby where it terminated and gave way to the A5. Sighting the Rugby radio masts indicated that we were nearing the end of the Motorway

Travelling in the back of my mates Commer van with 4 or 5 of us lying on sleeping bags

Stopping en route to N Wales at "Greasy Lil's" - now known as the Hollies. No light bulbs in the toilets, so you never knew what you were pissing on. The menu read "Cod (fish) and chips" I suppose it was about as far away from the sea as one could get in the UK so why should they know fish species?

Klettershoes, or klets, the last word in rock climbing shoes

Laid nylon climbing ropes.

As someone has said, Italian hemp rope waist ties - hemp has such a lovely smell.

Molecord breeches and red socks.

Big big run outs with minimal protection from spikes, or no protection at all, in the days when "the leader never fell"

Sleeping on rat infested straw in Willies Barn, Nant Peris, and the night when we returned from the Vaynol and my mate thought his sleeping bag was laid out on a rat. He leapt up with a yell and pounded the bag furiously with his boot. Finally when he thought the rat was dead, he peeled back his sleeping bag to find he was lying on his socks....

Sleeping in the Ogwen Cottage YHA Mortuary and the original green tea house by the bridge

Orange Ventile smock anoraks

Mead tents with a tunnel entrance tied up with tape

In reply to Rob Exile Ward:


Oh, yes. And can you remember how we were a bit embarrassed if we had a new pair of PAs, EBs etc. Felt a bit happier once they looked dirty and well-used, and preferably had a hole starting to develop in the toe ... ?

In reply to Doug Kerr:

Ha, presumably you're THE Dougie Kerr, documentor of Malvern Hills esoterica!

We spent quite a lot of time at Llanymynech in the early 70s, just as soon as it was announced in Rocksport in fact, what was THAT about - pre bolts, there must have been any number of better crags to go to even then.

Come to think of it, although we never did new routes one of the joys of the early 70s was doing early repeats - Wyndcliffe, Llanymenech, Wintours, even the Gorge. I did DOWH before anyone else I knew, and had to listen to somebody at the top giving a running commentary - 'That's where it gets hard, phew, I wouldn't like to be in his position now, yep that's a hard bit coming up' etc etc. When I got to the top having found it to be not too hard after all - as everyone now knows - I went over and said that I hadn't found it too bad, and when had he done it? 'Oh I haven't done it, too hard for me' he said.

In reply to Dave Garnett:


Lovely lad Sean C, what ever happened to him? He just fell off the radar and loads of people missed him terribly. Bit like Yorick,

In reply to Rob Exile Ward:


And now too!
Yes and let's not forget Bill Birkett included Blind Faith in his 'Climbs Of Quality' piece in Climber and Rambler. Oh deary me.

In reply to Bulls Crack:


Right. Well, were you around at the time BC? I don't actually recall them as being 'sexist', just perhaps a tad racey. I knew one of the 'models' who bared a bit of bare thigh and she was extatic to get the gig and more than happy with the seventy five quid - cash for an hour's work. 'She' had the 'power' and deservedly so.
This political correctness nonsene has gone Way too far if the (Javlin for example) advert is considered Un PC.
Beyond that, yes, I agree, but that was harmless in the scheme of things. Finally, no female friends of mine took Any offense whatsoever. Two of them reckoned they had better thighs, 'she's a cow and 'I'd've done it for sixty'. True. There you go. And that came from a lady friend.
Anyone daft enought to buy a very stretchy Black Whip coz the lass wass semi naked? The laugh's on you if that swayed you.
Harrumph.
Robbins has passed out again and I can't lift him.
Hmmm.

In reply to Gordon Stainforth:



Absolutely brilliant bits of kit (but carrying them not so good!)

In reply to Michael Gordon:

Actually, I had both the big Force 10 and a smaller 1-2 man one, which I preferred. Then I got a Lowe Alpine (I think, can't remember) 2 man thing, which was way better. We've now got a superb pop-up Quechua.

In reply to AP Melbourne:


He went off to live in Tenerife for ages but is now back in Switzerland. I went to the wall with him not so long back. He's still got it!

In reply to Goucho:
Strength & endurance !!!

In reply to Doug Kerr:



Yes, that's one that got away for me.

The one I miss most is Stiff Little Fingers in Hodge Close. The grade was a bit variable (like the width of the crack) but it was E3 6a thin fingers when I led it. I was nervous and we got up specially early to do it. It was just perfect.

In reply to Dave Garnett:

Fandango, Deer Bield Buttress, Wraith, Yankee Doodle - I've only got to look at a climb and it falls down!

In reply to Rob Exile Ward:
I was there the day Fandango fell down (but not on it!).

I did Deer Bield Buttress during the process - very shortly after the shield on the top pitch went (which was a bit of a puzzle when I got there) but before the bottom bit got rearranged.

In reply to Rob Exile Ward:


Yankee Doodle was my first climb in Cornwall, 1986. Belaying Geraldine on it with the incoming tide up to my waist. Absolutely brilliant climb, along with Longships on the sidewall.

In reply to Goucho:

Weekends in the Peak.
Playing darts and drinking in the Moon at Stoney.
Fish and chips.
Dossing on Windy ledge (later on in the woodshed)
Breakfast at "Eric's".
Searching for the triangle on wet days.
The new route book.
The graffiti on the toilet wall.
The adventure of climbing on limestone and grit with oh so many routes to do.
It was so much simpler then.

In reply to Dave Garnett:



Wonder if we'll be adding Main Wall routes (Trowbarrow) and Castle Rock to 'What I'm missing) in the nearish future?

In reply to TobyA:


There was no last orders at the Starship Kingshouse when Captain Nicholson was in charge......

In reply to Greenbanks:

Yes, and I had unfinished business with North Crag Eliminate. I fell off the last vaguely awkward move right at the top (and I never fell off) and was ignominiously lowered into the tree.

Looks like I left the rematch too late!

In reply to M. Edwards:
I still have one of your Mum's duvets - well cosy it is.

In reply to Clauso:


Oh, do give over. I'm 1000 miles from home nursing a weissbier in an airport. You'll have me in tears.

In reply to Christheclimber:

>

Just to point out, you can still get these nowadays!

In reply to Goucho:

I miss the uncrowded hills pre Irvine Butterfield!!

In reply to Christheclimber:


'Oedipus, ring your mother.'

'Beware the brothers grim.'

Mick

In reply to Goucho:
Froggatt Barn

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:

Geraldine! Why doesn't she post here? Camping in Argentiere one year, finally got the kids to sleep then Geraldine rocks up. 'Geraldine, my kids are finally asleep, please shhhh...' What a waste of breath that was!

In reply to nniff:


Pete Tong for my generation (and seemingly many generations since) of Highland bound young climbers in steamed up mini-buses!

In reply to Goucho:

From various eras, I’d add seeing woolly red socks folded over the top of leather boots.
Nylon smocks that were called waterproofs, but weren’t.
The Field and Trek catalogue of dreams.
Wilderness Oddysy – “Wild -O”
T.A.C.
Old school Petzl headtorches with incandescent bulbs and chunky batteries that faded away along with the daylight, leaving a warm yellow glow that was only slightly better than nothing by the time it was dark.
Trangias and brass pressure stoves.
The guilty feeling of a sunny day spent on a crag instead of at uni studying.
Phoenix tents, mine was still standing after a windy night in Langdale that saw the orange force tens either flattened of left up trees.
Campsites costing less than a pound a night.
The ODG v’s barn arguments.
Several of the removed Cairngorm bothies.
Ron Hills and Troll Jesters.
Wooden ice axes, and the lost skin of the first dropped picks and straight handles.
Strap-on crampons that occasionally fell off.
Stories of Russian titanium.
Sitting in the works bogs reading guide books so many times we could (and did) quote them word-for-word.
Completing a walk-in within the guidebook time.
Wet multi-pitches.
Getting thrown out of McColls’ bunkhouse in Glencoe – a blessing in disguise.
Meeting "The Skull" in the Clachaig.
The first steps in Koflachs.
Cheap flights to Geneva where the Koflachs in hand luggage saved weight and could be stuffed with other useful gear.
Ice axes next to the Koflachs in hand luggage.

In reply to Goucho:

Agree re the MOAC. I think the small brass hex's may have been Hugh Banner, but I am a bit hesitant to say this because I had great admiration for him as a climber. Anyway, I bought some of those but hardly used them at all.

In reply to John Stainforth:

I think that Clog made very small brass hexes I had one and used it a lot, it protected the crux of Tensor which (in its' aided state) was one of my Tremadog party pieces in the early 70s.

In reply to Rob Exile Ward:


Alive and well and living in Kalymnos. I last saw her at Millstone a couple of years ago.

Further on the OP

Don Morrison's climbing shop on London Rd Sheffield, with Martin 'Basher' Atkinson behind the counter, and locals the ncluding our 'man in Melbourne' hanging out
Buying bits of climbing equipment from the back room 'shop' at Stoney Cafe
Getting to Stoney late on a Friday night and finding the woodshed 'full'
Getting barred from pubs
Annual club dinner food fights -getting barred from hotels
Going to a suburban boozer in Sheffield and listening to all the tosh being talked by the local and visiting 'rad' rock stars of the day. They were great days, with a different pub for every night of the week on the circuit: Byron, Union, Noah's Ark, Porter Cottage, Grindstone etc.
Getting beta from Big Ron seemingly at every crag (actually that hasn't changed)

In reply to Goucho:

One from not too long ago, harnesses that you don't have to step in to, buckles that undo fully. Very handy when teetering on a ledge above a big drop.

In reply to tallsteve: love the thread, re the comment YHA dorms stink like a brothel. You are probably right but 'in the day' we all stank of cigarette smoke, even if you didn't puff yourself....which I didn't as I hated it then, and hate it now but at least now I (we) don't have to put up with it.

Everyone's clothes stank of it as you couldn't avoid it. Interestingly (well to me) smoking doesn't get one mention, extraordinary considering that, for example, even in your own (well Mum's) car if you asked people not to smoke they would just ignore you.

Nostalgia is great but the smoke tinted spectacles I am very happy to see in the past

In reply to Mick Ward:



Can you remember any more? I can't.

Miss the buzzing social scene around Stoney cafe and meeting so many climbers each weekend with tales of daring deeds and near misses.

I also miss the climbing scene in Manchester based around the YHA shop where I worked in the late 70's.

In reply to aostaman:

You probably didn't enjoy the Gold Leaf advert then: 'When I got to the top, I lit a Gold Leaf. It seemed the natural thing to do.' Or the adverts for menthol cigarettes: 'Cool as a mountain stream...'

In reply to Christheclimber:

Reading this thread, I'm horrified about how little I remember (until others have pointed it out). Can't remember more from the bog. The brothers grim were, of course, John Kirk and Paul Mitchell. Paul told me he'd written it.

I envy you working in the YHA shop, knowing Brian and so many others.

It's the people I remember most. Sadly I was so shy and lacking in confidence that I hardly interacted with them at the time. But it was always the people who mattered most.

This thread is the most amazing bunch of memories!

Mick

Seems a lot of people on here have changed a lot more than times have changed.

Some people are still sleeping in all sorts of grim locations and living as cheaply as they can just so they can climb, just it's mainly the young doing so (as always), not us old farts.

Interesting to reminisce about daschtein mitts, peter storm cags, waist belays, 5kg force ten tents and the like but I don't miss any of them. If anyone does they are welcome to still use them.

The locations have changed but there are still plenty of places with great climbing scenes, and most of them seem quite welcoming to us oldies if we make the effort.

Empty crags and adventures are still out there for anyone who wants them.

In reply to Rob Exile Ward:


Overheard in a CC hut as she walks in the door: "Ah Geraldine, I knew you were around; nobody else would eat half a banana and put the othe half in the fridge for later".

In reply to Robert Durran:

Last time I spoke to Geraldine I got the impression that she had given up climbing.

Al

In reply to GridNorth:



Seems to be doing more snorkelling and walking these days

In reply to GridNorth:

She has. As Paul said, other pursuits: snorkelling, walking, knitting, taking in stray cats, caring for 'em.

I'm told she's mellowed, seems more at peace with herself.

There's hope for us all!

Mick

In reply to Mick Ward:




Is 'Geraldine' Geraldine Taylor (nee Abray) by any chance?

In reply to Goucho:

Relying on the tin Leclanche Pile 'Wonder' torch, with the flat plug-in pin for the headset, for your Alpine start.
Guaranteed to fail, mainly due to rust.

I remember in the late seventies, three of descending off the Grepon, down the Nantillons and directly down through the forest to Chamonix. We'd just cleared the Nantillons, and we all took out our Wonder Torches, and none would work.
It was a long night.

The Petzl zoom came out shortly after, it was I think one of the biggest single leaps in climbing technology, especially when Sean at Hitch'n'Hike introduced me to a home made LED bulb for it. An incredible advance.

In reply to Goucho:

Yes.

Mick

In reply to Mick Ward:



In that case I now get the gags.

In reply to Goucho:

Weighing the lettuce...

'Keep the rope snug...'

I once banned her from leading (horrible person that I am). We were 100 feet up a 1,000 foot route (Anglada Gallego) with just a couple of hours before it got dark. Yeah, I know, shouldn't have been there, no fule like two old fules. Neither of us felt like abbing off the shite belays. Geraldine pace was going to lead to a very uncomfortable winter's night in T shirts and no grub (or grog).

We went like greased lightening, got off with minutes to spare (no headtorches, naturally), ran down the road like a couple of kids. She done well.

Mick

In reply to AP Melbourne:

I was indeed AP but they're still sexist...and its not empowering - 'tis a myth

In reply to Goucho:

All those climbing under tables and up the other side/ round the back of a chair games when you came back from the pub to a hut.
My Seal Skin jacket rather than the more prevalent Javelin ones.
Classic abseils.
Framed Karrimor rucksack with my Force Ten strapped to the bottom bar.

In reply to Goucho:
Sleeping in Stoney wood shed
Sitting for hours with Neil Molnar, Dave Lee and Derek Hersey in Stoney cafe
Hitching
Climbing on Kenilworth castle. Watching the cool Chris Hamper climb on Kenilworth castle
Crags magazine
Photographs of climbers who didn't dress like they had just come of the set of Rainbow
The mystery surrounding certain routes - video has done for the mystery.
And yes, going to Tremadog in the late 1970s, early 1980s

In reply to Goucho:

great thread - in no particular order:

fast drives up the A5 on Friday Night
Stoney Café
Stoney Ledge dossing
Moon
Hitching from Mcr to Peak
the cheap Carabiners your ordered in the post - the orange ones
trying to make it to Llangollen chip shop or Ruthin .....
Stoney chip shop
Stoney new route book
Stoney bacon
Javelin fleece
Crags magazine
force 10 tents
EB's
Paul Nunn Gritstone guide
Frogatt barn doss
MOACS
not looking at a weather forecast driving somewhere and dossing around if it was wet
not knowing there was any good climbing in Yorkshire !
Manchester Uni "old" wall and seeing J Woodward do impossible things on it
Sobell corridor wall
Breakfast on Sat

Now many of those you can still do and enjoy !

In reply to Goucho:

the un pc crags magazine

In reply to andy gittins:
My Dad's Vango Force 10 ridge tent is still in the family with it's fly sheet bleached white by the sun now rather than orange. Apparently a joke to play is to un-peg the flysheet while people are asleep in them and put it back facing the other direction.

In reply to Goucho:

Working on the high score on the Galaxian machine in Grindleford cafe over endless brews on wet Saturdays
Persuading Phil Eastwood to let us doss in the cafe at weekends in return for diy/painting
Straightening the picks on my Terrordactyls in a vice before trips away
making early versions of nut extractors out of shelving brackets
Not training, and thinking you could get really good by just climbing outdoors

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:

Phil was brilliant. Who was that partner of his - had he a wooden leg or am I imagining it? They were at each other like Steptoe and son. Phil was as Harold as... Harold.

Someone said he died a few years ago at a New Year's bop. Giving it his all one moment, gone the next.

Jive in heaven, Phil. Jive in heaven.

Mick

In reply to Bulls Crack:

Still got a Moac on my rack and it still gets used!

In reply to Mick Ward:

Agree, Phil was brilliant and I share your memory of his partner's peg-leg but can't remember his name.
As a sign of respect, most of his (numerous) signs are still up in the cafe, mostly focused on his hatred of serving mushrooms. Behind all the bluster, a really funny and generous bloke. Used to leave us a stash of coal for the stove and some date expired Parkin or flapjack if we were dossing overnight. Managed to get him out on Stanage once but he didn't really 'get' it.

Paul

In reply to Timmd: Yep, flysheet reversal was quite common.

My Force 10 with a green nylon flysheet is still in the loft in good condition (hasn't been used for a few years though).

MOAC (still a good nut in the right placements) is on my rack, lost my brother's half-MOAC on wire (completely crap runner) years ago.

I miss;
Stoney Café and being able to eat loads of buttered toast without worrying about weight gain.
Actually managing to climb something when the weather was dodgy rather than the wall or staying at home.
Crags magazine - brilliant irreverence until it became too commercial and transmogrified badly into High
Camping in the field at the Cromlech when you could get your car in there as well
Missile Command
Taking less time to drive somewhere (than now) even in a crap slow car
Roundabouts being roundabouts rather than a collection of traffic lights
Being three stone lighter (working on it)

In reply to andy gittins:

Stoney Ledge dossing! Yeah. Watching the rain percolate back towards your sleeping bag.

Going down the cave pissed too

In reply to M. Edwards:



Agree. Oh man I miss Paul !
Some great pics in your profile Mark and good contribution to the thread.
Hope yr well and best regs to yer old man (and a ta for the inspiration & NWL routes to get on).
Cheers,
AP.
(Happy to accept a PM, you've blocked eveyone).

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:


Remember Phil so well, but like every body else struggling to recollect his partners name, the old man who was alongside him for so long.
Could some come along & put me out of my misery as its really now beginning to weigh heavily on my brain trying to recall this?

In reply to Christheclimber:


'Flush hard, uphill to cafe kitchen' was one I'll never forget Chris.
AP.

In reply to AP Melbourne:



Nice one Andy. I'd forgotten that one, brilliant.

Currently reading Punk in the gym and thoroughly enjoying it. It's bringing back so many fond memories of the climbing scene in the late 70's and early to mid 80's. Thank you.
Cheers
Chris

In reply to walts4:



It's like "Phil and..." "Phil and..." "Phil and..." It'll come to me in a minute. Jeez, my brain's more frazzled than I thought.

The 'banter' between them - more Steptoe than Steptoe. That place was pure theatre. Glad to hear from Paul above that the signs are still up. Respect for an institution.

Mick

In reply to Mick Ward:

The banter in the cafe would quieten down mid-week. Phil's empire stretched to a cafe on an industrial estate near Dronfield I think, so the duo were split up. You'll be glad to know that Grindleford Spring water is still bottled and available for a fee. Phil loved a money making scheme.

In reply to Mick Ward:



I remember serving a few months (together with Jungle aka Steve Ralph) as a porta belay for Geraldine. Good fun as I got dragged up lots of routes that were much too hard from me to lead. She could hang around for 15 minutes placing runners where I couldn't stop to take them out because my arms were completely shot.

Early on Jungle and I both learnt that she had a very small bladder capacity. Golden showers from above were a frequent occurrence. When setting up a belay it paid to make sure it wasn't directly under the next pitch.

In reply to wilkesley:


I watched a very hungover and more grumpy than usual Jungle (Steve) acting as portabelay at Reecastle Crag, sitting alone in his own personal hell, with the hood of his Buffalo coat pulled over his head, the only sign of life being the odd cloud of cigarette smoke from the hood, and the microscopic payout of rope as Geraldine made another move.
We had spent the evening in the Golden Rule, then slept in a climbers' squat where we had to climb a fire escape and enter via a rooflight. Those were the days.

In reply to Goucho:

All the above, and I haven't seen Sausious, rock boots that could take a crampon.

In reply to Mick Ward:



Due to location I very rarely make it in to Grinders café, but on my last visit it was Phil's son behind the counter enforcing the rules, respect due....

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:

In 1976 my mate Deak and I dossed in John Whittock's room in Charlotte's Harlots for, hmm... quite some time (six weeks? eight weeks??) At the beginning, I said to Deak, "Won't he mind?" Deak just gave a manic cackle and that was that. At the weekend, occupancy was wont to increase exponentially. One Saturday night, I counted 23. It wasn't a big room.

All things come to an end and, sure enough, this doss did. On yet another festering day, Deak and I and some others were summarily informed that the principal was coming round in 15 minutes. Was it a bluff? I'd had previous history at Bradford (think abseil out the window without err... a rope) and starting manically shoving kit into my sac. The rest followed. In the middle of this farce, Whittock wandered in. Slowly the penny started to drop. When he found out what was going on, he just said, "F*ck that!" and started shoving stuff into his sac too. We ran down the stairs and out the back to the next doss. There would always be one. Even if it was grim, we just didn't care.

There are a few places (Bradford, Ambleside, Cham, etc) where I could do with going back and saying, "Sorry..." In mitigation, I'm not the only one and we rarely, if ever, meant any harm.

Mick

In reply to walts4:

Oh that's great to hear Phil's son is helping to keep the tradition going. Has really made my morning - thanks!

Mick

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:

Top Man was Phil and I bet most contributors to this thread have a few good stories about his cafe. The very last time I saw Phil he was in a restaurant on Ecclesall Road tucking into an enormous pizza. Made me chuckle as I could just imagine him back behind his the counter in his cafe saying to a hapless customer:
"Pizza? I don't serve anything like that in this cafe"

He put the cafe up for sale at one point. He was only asking a million quid for it. Honestly.

One notice directly above the fire always made me laugh:
"If you can read this you are too close, DON'T BE A FIRE GUARD"

We used to camp in Yarncliffe Quarry at school holidays, walk up to the local crags and eat at his cafe every day. At the end of the week he'd always give us a free meal (steak and chips and the steaks were enormous). Top man was Phil.

I do remember another interesting character in the cafe, a bearded chap who looked not unlike Uncle Albert. He was normally wearing a filthy looking apron and shuffled around the cafe in, I think, his carpet slippers. After Phil had put in the new toilets Uncle Albert would often be dispatched from the kitchen to flush out any 'customers' who had mistakenly gone straight to the loo before ordering any food. Happy days.

But what about Dougie Lord of the Roaches? Now there was a real character.

In reply to Doug Kerr:
Remember harry the tramp an interesting man who lived in a cave at stoney and think he then moved to the caravan on the bend under Horseshoe Quarry.
Apparently he played the organ at the church.

http://www.ddimages.co.uk/PHOTO%20GALLERIES/BLACK%20AND%20WHITE%20GALLERY/h...

In reply to Mick Ward:
In the early 70s if my memory serves, wan't the cafe owned and run by Phil's dad Frank and referred to by some as Frank's?

In reply to paddledog:

Shit! Wasn't Frank the one-legged guy? Was he Phil's dad? Was that why they were always at each others' throats? I always thought it was like Steptoe and son but I didn't actually think it was Steptoe and son.

And the stringy blonde psychotic waitress with the dead eyes...?

Oh going to Grindleford caff was quite an experience!

Mick

In reply to Goucho:

I miss going to the Bolton wall, circa 1985. I spent most of the time on the traverse, trashing my fingertips on the edges of the bricks. On the higher climbing wall at the end of the sports hall, there was usually a dead skinny bloke, ponytail. He'd sit on a concrete ledge and wait until his mates would get near him. Then he'd be off to find another ledge. And so on. They never caught him. Paul Pritchard, bless him.

In reply to robert-hutton:




I remember when he spent a lot of time sitting on the benches on the village green at Baslow, but never saw him around anywhere else.
Probably completely wrong, but I thought whoever lived in the caravan under Horeshoe mined for fluorite or fluorspar. I have absolutely no idea where this idea comes from though!

In reply to Doug Kerr:


Ah, good old Doug.

Only time I've ever had to retreat from a route at gunpoint.

In reply to Fredt:

Fortunately I never saw him with a gun but it was a definately a concern to see him with his axe.

In reply to Mick Ward:
Hi Mick - not sure about the one leg but we are talking about Grindleford Cafe so anything could be true; didn't they have there own mineral water supply?
Can remember as a wimpy teenager looking at a black and white on the wall of big Pat Fernehough on Rugosity Crack (?) and thinking "maybe one day"?
As part of the original post - Millar Mitts anyone?
Cheers,
DW.

Lakes trips ending at Staveley chippy for black pudding fritters - disgusting, but for some reason we were unable to chose anything different from the menu board.

Photocopying pages from guidebooks smuggled out of the FRCC collection at Lancaster Uni library.

Trying to find a pair of Koflach Ultra outer boots after a night drinking in the Clachaig - when everyone wore those white Koflachs and outer boots were not tolerated inside the pub. Tricky to find a pair, trickier to find a pair in the same size, nigh on impossible to find a pair in your size from the 60 plus individual identical white boots in the porch

In reply to Goucho:

I miss my own youth.

In reply to Goucho:

I miss sleeping through the night.

In reply to paddledog:

I don't miss Millar Mitts at all. Nearly lost my life as a result of using them (as described in my last book) - mostly because I hadn't appreciated their shortcomings. Never used them again after that (1969).

In reply to Gordon Stainforth:


Bestiality's Best was a favourite of my uni club.

In reply to Goucho:



Most of the c rags ladies can be seen in my photo gallery

In reply to Gordon Stainforth:


Very good for a "soft catch" - as in oops, I can't hold the rope. Never had a revelation like yours, but I had no faith in the things and didn't use them for long. They didn't even keep your hands warm! Although I did avoid rope burn on Craig Arthur's girdle on my third and last attempt!

In reply to Goucho:

Sunday morning banter in the minibus, particularly someone reading the latest Sunday Sport account of bombers found on the moon.

In reply to Goucho:






??

In reply to Goucho:

Mysterious Cities of Gold. And, to a lesser extent, Dogtanian.

In reply to planetmarshall:
Star Fleet (AKA X-Bomber) - OH MY - I've just seen that it's all there on t'interweb

In reply to Goucho:

More into walking than climbing in 70s/80s but:

Peter Storm Cag
Army surplus trousers
Javlin jacket
Ultimate Tramp tent
Red Karrimor pack with external frame
Point 5 sleeping bag (only thing on the list I still have)

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:



You are almost right. The stoney guy was a genuine gypsy who did in fact work in the Glebe Mine at Eyam on the ore sorting belt. He had an amazing collection of things like child-sized harnesses which had been used in the mine in earlier times in his caravan. He was also a regular in The Grouse Inn in Stoney before The Moon became popular, and if you got in early enough you could talk to him before he got too drunk to speak! Frank the Baslow tramp appeared quite a bit later, folling on from an earlier version known locally as Davy Crocket who lived in an old chicken hut by the car park in the middle of Baslow and could often be seen sitting around waiting for locals to offer him some paid work.

In reply to Goucho:
Hills that didn't have big muddy paths all over them

In reply to Mick Ward:
Mick,
I remember rocking up to Walmer Villas for the first time at 9am on a Saturday morning after bussing it from Oxenhope. After what seemed an eternity of banging on the door of the Adams Family residence in a state of dire decay, being admitted to the scenes upstairs. The pissheads in full residence, snoring under stinking kapok mattresses like overblown maggots and thinking to myself "YES! I've finally arrived somewhere". A few months later I was dossing in the air raid shelter at South Stack with the rest of the Softies and some not so softies. Climbing in Wen Zawn and the wet motorway journey back up the motorway in the back of The Piggerry etc. etc.

In reply to cheese@4p:


Eek, you most certainly had! Whether it was somewhere worth arriving is highly questionable.

Walmer Villas - I'm blushing. The state of that place. The way we lived. I used to have all kinds of weird dreams about it until a year or so ago. They'll probably start all over again.

Do you still climb? And Deak?? Boggie???

It ain't over till it's over!

All best wishes,

Mick

In reply to Goucho:

Like most I don´ t miss any of that stuff apart perhaps from enthusiasm and strength but I´ ve replaced them with wisdom and skill. The rest was in retrospect merely rubbish and we have progressed.

In reply to johnwright:

Been up in the loft this aft, I took the tent out of it's bag, bloody hell it's still in good condition.

In reply to johnwright:

I dug out my Robert Saunders backpacker last year that I referred to earlier in the thread....I used it for 2 nights at langdale and so many people came over to ask what it was or had them previously!

In reply to Goucho:

Reading all the responses on this thread, I'm wondering whether it's not the gear we miss, but the experiences and memories they represent?

Little time capsules of our formative years, stuffed inside a battered old sac.

Anyway, they've all made great reading

In reply to Mick Ward:

Mick
I'm still climbing, though it's mostly on boulders. I haven't seen anything of Deak or Boggy since my wedding 6 years ago.
See you out there sometime.

In reply to cheese@4p:

Ian, would really look forward to that.

Mick

In reply to Mick Ward:

Remember Tremadoc cafe and the two waitresses, one was beautiful but the other got all the attention cos of her enormous t*ts.

In reply to Goucho:

Wanking 5 times a day.

Charts on Sundays with tape recorder at the ready.


Woolworths record counter.

10 No.6 for 11p
4+ pints for a £1 with change.

In reply to Mick Ward:

Graffiti in the Stoney. Cafe toilet "London Wall 5a every move"

I remember the brothers grim, good climbers and chess players. The YHA days were great so many characters dropping in to see Brian and the new routes book.

In reply to Christheclimber:

I remember attack ship on fire off the shoulder of Orion.

In reply to Bulls Crack:

you have either read do androids dream of electric sheep P K Dick or watched blade runner .

In reply to Goucho:

Mini vans

In reply to mike8331:

Neither, I really do remember.

In reply to Goucho:
Helly Hansen pile jackets. (2still in cupboard)
Blacks good companions tent. ( stayed up when camping part way up Skiddaw when gusts were reported to 130 mph on gt dun fell .....what a night!)
Joe Brown Rucksac ...still used for local cragging... More patches than rucksac visible...
EBs with holes in toes as couldnt afford new ones.
Wednesday nights climbing.
Brewing up at the crag waiting for pub to open..
Sigh!!!!

And one from her indoors. Cold husband climbing into bed in the early hours smelling of beer and rock.

In reply to Goucho:

Standing at the side of the road, pre mobile phones, wondering what the hell had happened to your lift, with no way of finding out what on earth had happened to them.

Done that a few times.

In reply to Chris Harris:

On one memorable occasion the climbing partner had buggered off on holiday to Spain for a week, but it had somehow slipped his mind when we discussed going climbing 2 days earlier.

In reply to Mick Ward:

Mick, just remembered...

'Who's there?
......Titan's Grandma'

Was a piece of Graffiti. I'm sure it was in the Stoney toilet. Do you remember it?
Paul

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:

In Keswick one of the cubicles had loads of typical graffiti, but capping it all;

With so much verse and so much wit,
One would think Wordsworth had come here to sh*t.

In reply to Gordon Stainforth:



Oh I really miss the old public bar at the Clachaig, partly because I worked in it for quite a while. Incidentally, we met there on a couple of occasions and I'm surprised you even remember it Anyway, it was a hovel and so much better for it. The ceiling was dark nicotine brown and the out of tune piano had dried up sick in it. A very pissed biker decided he couldn't get through the crowds to the loo so he lifted the lid on the piano, vomited into it and closed the lid, right in front of all the staff. Normal behaviour for a Friday or Saturday night. You wouldn't get half of the prissy golf brigade going there. That's what I miss.

Other things I miss:

Climbing not being something that you put on your cv.
Living out of a decrepit small car with holes drilled in the floor to let the water out
Dossing
Hitchhiking
Squalor
Being apart from normal society
A culture where Oliver Reed would have been a bit tame

and of course, being light, strong, hairy, able to drink my own weight in beer without losing the next day and not caring about being penniless.

In reply to paul_in_cumbria:

Yes, almost certain it was in the Stoney loo. Another one from Paul Mitchell?

Mick

In reply to Goucho:

I miss the escapism. Once upon a time being in the hills or on rock was being away from the rat race. A weekend in Knoydart or the Lakes or Wales was leaving daily life behind to be something different, perhaps even yourself. Now I am expected to be in continual contact with the office, day and night, weekend or holiday. Yes I could leave the phone in the car but then the post walk trip to the pub would be delayed by an hour or two as I sort through all the voicemails and e-mithers. Best just to deal with them as they arrive. Don't get me wrong; I have the best job in the world. It's just that there's no such thing as isolation anymore.

In reply to Toccata:

Oh dear my phone doesn't have a signal. What a shame.

In reply to davidbeynon:
Oh that happens from time to time...

My lament is more that once upon a time others would take it upon themselves to sort out problems when you are away. Now clients and staff alike expect to get hold of you (indeed anyone) at anytime. Thus if you don't sort a problem straight away then it's twice the hassle 12 hours later. So even phone-less isolation isn't isolation as you know the crap is building up in the background. Hence it's quicker and easier to take the call and sort it out. With a few specific situations aside, I really believe our lives have not been enhanced by mobile phones.

In reply to Toccata:

The thing that pisses me off is this pernicious idea that it is somehow irresponsible to go out for a walk without a phone.

In reply to Rob Exile Ward:


Pont of order -we never got spanked by anything but our parents / school teachers / or if you were very lucky your girlfriend / boyfriend etc. back in the 70's.

Its one of those modern phrases that just makes me cringe.

In reply to Toccata:

Can you not set up an out of office message on your email / voicemail? I find that if I tell people I'm not available for the weekend lo and behold they sort themselves out or mither someonne else.

In reply to Andy Hardy:

The standard voicemail I end up with is "I know you are away but...". We live in an era of 'if you do something and it goes wrong it's your fault; if you do nothing and it goes wrong it's someone else's fault'. I think this attitude is more widespread than just my firm and a close friend has not managed to take a full holiday in a decade because of this (pretty senior position mind).

I know I'm not alone in resigning myself to the new world order of 24-7-365.

In reply to Toccata:

Training clients is a lot like training toddlers: consistency is the key. If your out of office message is "I'll deal with it on Monday" don't deal with *before* Monday

In reply to Toccata:

"Thus if you don't sort a problem straight away then it's twice the hassle 12 hours later. "

Yep. I can sign-up for "always available" or know that things will be infinitely worse when I get back. I agree, life was better before mobile phones.

In reply to ed woods:

You can still get them!

http://www.kongadventure.com/product/footwear/approach-shoes/mens-approach-...

In reply to ed woods:

You can still get them!

http://www.kongadventure.com/product/footwear/approach-shoes/mens-approach-...