MEET THE ADVENTURER
THE BRITISH MOUNTAINEER AND STROKE SURVIVOR DISCUSSES CLIMBING IN ALASKA, HIS RECOVERY AND HOW PUNK INSPIRED HIS EARLY EXPEDITIONS
How did you get started in mountaineering?
I grew up hiking across the North Yorkshire Moors before getting into caving at university. In the UK, many caves still haven’t been surveyed, so I had the opportunity to explore completely unmapped terrain, which gave me the confidence to go out and find new climbing routes in the Scottish mountains. It was the punk era and I was highly influenced by the idea that you could just go out, learn three chords and release a single — it made me realise that I didn’t need anyone’s permission. After learning to climb in Scotland, I went straight to the Himalayas. I was done waiting.
What has been your most challenging moment?
Probably my first lead up a piece of vertical ice in the Scottish Highlands. Not only did I have no idea what I was doing, but I’d also managed to bring completely inadequate equipment. When leading, you have to place screws in the wall and clip into them as you go, while the belayer controls the safety rope. I had some ice screws on my harness but no way of hammering them in, so I just pressed them into the melting ice in a rather pathetic way and shouted down to my companion that I was stuck. I eventually made it to a section where the ice had completely melted away, allowing me to put in stable screws and belay my friend, but it was touch and go for a while.
What about your most euphoric moment?
My friend Paul Figg and I had made it to the summit of Alaska’s Mount Hunter [Begguya in the language of the native Dena’ina people] using a new route on the east face, the base of which we’d reached via ski plane. Because of a lack of airspace, the plane couldn’t come back to pick us up, so we were forced to descend over the west side knowing there wasn’t a safe route down. When we finally made it back, we were ecstatic — not only because we were alive, but because we’d stashed loads of food back at base camp. For days, we’d been eating soup from plastic sachets, but we knew that we’d soon be tucking into bagels, eggs and smoked salmon. The prospect of gluttony was incredibly euphoric.
In August 2020 you experienced a severe stroke. How has your life changed since then?
My life has changed in every conceivable way, as has the life of my wonderful wife Donna, who, with great love and kindness, sacrificed her career as a triathlete to look after me. Before I had the stroke, we
