"AND one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages." So said Shakespeare, and his words have been made use of in many ways. For some time I have been interested in tracing what might be called the normal development of a rock-climbing career, In this connection, the seven ages suggested a starting point, and it is interesting to see how they apply to this game of ours. The word " normal " is used here in the sense in which a scientist uses it to describe a normal standard before setting out to discuss abnormal variations from that standard. My seven ages will depict, not an ideal, but a career which I hope approximates most closely to the climbing careers of the majority of us.
Our first age, then. That time, dimly remembered, when we first heard of mountains. Perhaps it was from a boot, maybe the classic Whymper, from photographs, or even a motor journey through the hill country. Probably the idea of climbing rocks did not occur at this stage; possibly we never knew that men did such things. Did the hills then seem wild, mysterious and terrible places, as they did to our forbears? Or did they seem pleasant places, inviting exploration and offering adventure?
Next that period when we actually began to make contact with the hills, during a holiday amongst them, walking the valleys and the passes and perhaps, as a special treat, climbing to some summit. Two memories of this age spring clearly to my mind. The first was the earliest appearance of the urge to climb a mountain. I had been taken to Dungeon Ghyll and the sight of Harrison Stickle aroused an intense desire to stand upon its remote top, but it was not to be. Cross and in an evil temper I was dragged up to Blea Tarn, whence the view of my mountain only served to increase my rage and disappointment. On the second occasion I had been taken up Sty Head in a mist, and, wandering a little from the summit, I saw some people climbing on lower Kern Knotts. I came away firmly convinced that this was Eagle’s Nest ridge, of which I had heard, and even more certain that one day I too would be a rock-climber. These were very happy days, when Castle Crag was a major summit, and Middlefell Buttress a climb of the highest standard, to be viewed in awe but never touched.
Later come the days when one first sets foot upon the rocks. Thrilling days when one slips away from relations to indulge in one’s secret vice of scrambling, up places like Cust’s Gully or Jack’s Rake. It was at this stage that I bought guide-books, and carefully avoided anything that was classified above the " moderate " standard. But this is the age of bouldering, and on these near-to-the-ground miniatures of the real thing, feats were performed, the difficulty of which one could only guess, and which often horrify one in these later years. It was presumably during this age that my father found me sitting on top of the Gash Rock in Langstrath: he was very annoyed and not a little surprised. I was enjoying the prospect from the top after what had seemed a terrible ascent, and was trying hard not to think about how I was going to get down.
Our fourth, the age of apprenticeship. The time for learning in a serious manner the technique, delights and dangers of the game. Unfortunately the appreciation of the last-named tends to lag behind that of the other two. To begin with there is a lack of appreciation of the standards of difficulty, and trouble on a route is generally supposed to be due rather to one’s own incompetence than to the inherent problems of the rock. There are tendencies to climb a route or fall off it: but never to turn back defeated; and to do as many climbs as possible in one day. All these things combine to make this, the adolescence of climbing, the most dangerous age. It is fortunate that there are many foster parents, in the shape of friends, clubs and even professional guides to help us come through our adolescence with the minimum of danger from our lack of proportion; but, just as in every other game in life, or as in life itself, there are many things which each must learn for himself; and these lessons are the sweetest of all. Do you remember the first time you led a "severe," or the first day you did a "very severe "? Or if you have not yet achieved these joys, be sure to pick on first-class climbs worthy of the occasion. Mine were the Direct route on Glyder Fach and the South-west on Pillar Rock. There may be better climbs – find them if you can. But remember that for all its joys this is an age of danger, and beware lest courage derived too much from ignorance should lead to desperate deeds and thence to trouble.
Safely through adolescence, one slips imperceptibly into the age of one’s prime. Here experience has grown to a sufficient degree to match a fine technique, and to build a sense of proportion of inestimable value. Gone is the "do or die" spirit; gone the record-breaking attempts to cram a week’s climbing into a day. Enjoyment is now the motive, and one can enjoy failures as well as successes untroubled by the nagging sense of inferiority. One knows what one can do, and being able to estimate the margin of safety with more accuracy, one can broaden or narrow it at will. One can still climb in danger, but there is now no fear of the danger passing unnoticed, and the recognition of it alone tends to reduce its proportions. One can still climb all the things one could in the days of youthful abandon, save only a few problems that require the physical qualities of suppleness ’and strength that go with one’s late " teens ", and one does one’s climbs with a fuller appreciation of their worth, and can make a wiser choice of climbs to suit a particular day. This is the age of maturity, in which one can derive the fullest pleasure from the game, and in which one is best fitted to create and construct new climbs with a real discrimination as to the best route.
There follows the second dangerous age of climbing. The time when, slowly, insidiously, and at first imperceptibly, the qualities of strength and stamina and speed of reaction begin to decrease. This is the climacteric of a climber’s life. The danger lies in the fact that the diminution in his capabilities, if allowed to go unrecognised, will lead to a failure to adjust his programme to his physical limitations. I do not mean that he should abandon the sport, but that the margin of safety must be increased to compensate for the diminished speed of reaction, and lowered resistance to the effects of inclement weather, which are the natural failings of this age.
Our seventh and final age is that of the old man. In the nature of things, he can no longer perform the deeds of his youth; but he can still walk the fells and safely tackle the easier climbs. He must of necessity live to an ever greater degree upon the memories of days gone by, but that is no reason for making this an age of regret. There are many old men, and women too, who can look back on a full and glorious life of climbing; in memory they can revisit the hills and crags where they have achieved so much, and they can encourage, help and delight the younger folk with their ripe experience, wise judgment, and rich stores of recollection.
Here then is a brief sketch of the development of the climber. It has been called analogous to the general development of behaviour in the life of every human being. The analogy may be extended, when we consider how the development may be precocious, or may be arrested at any stage; or how a characteristic proper at one stage may become improper if it is retained beyond a certain stage. All these processes may produce deviations . from the normal, and. may help to account for peculiarities in the climbing of ourselves or our friends. But I hope there is more to it than that. The analogy is admittedly far from perfect, and of course a man’s climbing adolescence may coincide with his actual middle age, for instance; but if the consideration of these rather arbitary divisions leads to a recognition of the pleasures and the dangers peculiar to each age, something of value would be accomplished. Is it, indeed, too much to hope that their recognition would increase our power to enjoy the pleasures and to limit the dangers?