Q: What must we pass on to the next generation of climbers?
A: That nothing we climb is so important as the love there for the building between friends.
Q: Describe the scariest moment in your life, in brief.
A: In 1967 I pushed myself into incomprehensible realms of fear, due to psychedelics. That fear was far worse even than climbing with Kor on the most frightening and worst of his days. At one point for weeks I couldn’t sleep and, totally thin and fit, lost twenty pounds. Sanity is a precious gift. It was not wise for us to play around with ours. The 1960s were rough. A few of us only just made it out alive.
In climbing, my scariest moment was an extremely hot day in direct sun on Country Club Crack in Boulder Canyon. Making one of many ascents of this favorite, I led almost without protection up the steep 5.10 wall and over the roof, clipping a fixed thing or two, and jammed my knee in the little hole above the roof to take a short rest. I didn’t realize how much the heat had taken a toll on me, and I began to pass out. I’d never passed out on a climb before. As I glanced at the situation, being more than half a rope length straight above my belayer, on a slightly overhanging wall, and having only a thin swami belt around my waist to which the rope was tied, I realized if I did lose consciousness I would fall, hang there in space, and probably suffocate. I fought hard to stay conscious. It was scary.
Q: What does the climbing community need to fix?
A: The stewards of the history need to have done and need to do better, more accurate, and less biased work. I have read so many incorrect things about people, not to mention omissions and outright malicious falsehoods. In my book “Wizards of Rock,” a history of free climbing in America, I try to be fair to everyone, even to those who have or have had some issue with me. Other historians, I’ve noticed, let their lack of objectivity show and slight or deny people recognition out of personal bias.
Climbing would be better also if people were less swept up in the ribald tendencies of Hollywood and the world, seeking the newest shocking thing with which to impress everyone.
Q: Who embodies climbing, as a person?
A: John Gill is not only a master of rock, but also a master of spirit. He is genuinely generous, as opposed to some who pretend to be generous when it serves their purpose but can tear you to pieces a given moment that also serves their purpose. He has never been threatened by the world of buffoons around him. He radiates all the best spirits, from mountaineering to bouldering.
Jim Perrin, in England, has that deep love of people and for nature, rock, and mountains and wonderfully embodies all the finer qualities and insights of the ideal climbing friend.
Q: If you could go climbing anywhere, where would you go? Why?
A: I like to go where there is beautiful, solid rock, and where sunlight reigns. I love to look around and see pines, maybe hear a creek below or nearby, be able to see a few clouds, where I am with a choice friend who loves to be outside and feels the beauty of simply breathing. If I could take one place with me to heaven, it would be the Eldorado I knew in the early 1960s, where a few of us had all that starlight, wind, roaring river sounds, lichen, pine, and sandstone to ourselves.
