COSMIC CAPERS

Just as he was thinking there was not enough silliness in the world Cubby is reminded of some classic Cosmic climbing capers.

I was watching a programme on TV not so long ago, Scotland Outdoors I think it was called. They interviewed a writer who golfed his way across Scotland. I think it took him 10,000 strokes to complete. He said it was an adventure and although it might be seen a little childish or zany, it re-installed a sense of simplicity in his life. The simple action of hitting a ball high in the air and the sense of satisfaction that he got from that. "Maybe there's not enough silliness in the world," he concluded.

Talking about silliness the programme reminded me of an occasion when I was climbing with Rab Anderson and Cosmic Dave in Glencoe. I suppose in the early 70s. I'd been thinking of trying Big Top on Aonach Dubh. To cut a long story short, Rab and Cosmic got totally ratted in the Clachaig so it was pretty late before I managed to drag them from their pits the following day. They were in a right state but eventually submitted to my constant nagging.

After some breakfast Cosmic donned his EB's, harness and his big, bright orange JB helmet. He tied onto the rope, as did Rab and then proceeded to pitch along the road to the junction with the A82. Rab anchored himself to the fence post next to the bridge while Cosmic took the lead once more. "Okay chaps, you stay here, I'll push on." Cosmic started clawing up the grass, shaking and grovelling. "F*?! hell Rab, watch me, this is serious. Oh no, oh god, I think I'm coming off," and made a desperate lunge for a small rock in the path.

Just as Cosmic lunged for the boulder, a walker passed by and pretended not to notice. It was exactly the sort of reaction Dave revelled in. It was funny to begin with but by the time we got to the foot of Big Top, I turned round and went straight back down! The truth was, I was really intimidated by the climb but I wasn't going to let them know that.

In a posh almost high-pitched voice, Cosmic would call the house. We're talking about the early 70s here, I was still at school. It was a voice, which of course was still influenced by his purple-haze accent, not to mention characters from A Clockwork Orange, which was highly influential to him. Cosmic would begin by casually humming a non descript tune, "da da da da, dee dee dee dee" - not unlike middle age men who whistle to themselves in British Rail toilets. There would be a curious little squawk, one that expressed a tone of satisfaction. "Something's happening to me, mmmmm, hmmm..." he would continue with more strange noises. I shuddered to think what he was doing at the other end of the line!

Cosmic's rantings continued, building up to a crescendo. He would then revert to his prim and proper, middle-class ladies voice..."ooooh, I'm coming, I'm coming!" At that point my mother interrupted and said, "I'll pass you over to Cubby". "Oh f*?!, f*?! hell." I think Dave was embarrassed which was hard to imagine. "F*?! hell, why didn't you tell me Dave?" "Well," I replied, "you can't phone a house with six people living there and always expect to get me. It could've even been my gran!" Everyone in my house spoke with a Cosmic Dave accent and if Dave called, whoever picked up the phone would say "it's can-I-speak-to-Dave-please".

My first trip to Chamonix was in '76 with Murray, Alan Taylor and Cosmic. We camped on Snell's field, which is next to the Piere d'Ortaz boulder, arguably the most famous boulder in the Alps. We'd just come down from a total epic on the Bonatti Couloir on the Dru and by the will of God alone, managed to get back down to Chamonix alive. But that's another story.

Anyway, we celebrated our safe descent. We seemed to celebrate everything in those days. We even celebrated our departure from the UK, our arrival in Chamonix, our departure from Chamonix and even our arrival back in the UK again. Well we celebrated. Murray retired to his tent as usual and scoffed a secret stash, while Alan, Cosmic and myself lay comatose beneath the Piere d'Ortaz boulder.

Despite our drunken state we had intended to do some bouldering but none of us got beyond the first hold, which we had inadvertently smeared in sun cream. We must have been lying there for half an hour, frying in the midday sun, when we were all startled by a cry from Cosmic. Just for a change it was an "ah, f*?!", as the duty-free Havana cigar burnt down to his lips!

Pete Livesey was on the same campsite. He walked up to the boulder, studied the holds and simulated a possible traverse while his feet were still on the ground. Livesey was one of the world's greatest rock climbers at the peak of his career and we all respected him. He was obviously scoping out a problem to come back to. Anyway, he returned to his corner of the campsite.

With nothing on but a frayed, cut-down pair of cords, Hush Puppy slip-on boots and a bright green out-of-character headband that he bought in Chamonix, Cosmic stood up - just and with much intrigue and studious expression, simulated Livesey's circuit of the boulder. He began by shaking and slapping for holds and then disappeared round the back of the boulder. Minutes later he re-appeared again, dragging his Hush Puppies through the bushes and the dust, while his hands were still on the holds. "This is f*?! desperate," he said. "The hardest problem I've ever done," and then eventually arrived back at the starting point. "I've done the second ascent of a Livesey problem." In the distance I noticed that Livesey was watching!

Twenty five years later, sitting on the sofa at home, immersed in my thoughts after watching the programme, the phone rang. There was a barely conscious croak, "Zsheeeb...how's it going schunny Jim? Ha ha, f*?! hell Dave, I'm totally out of it. Huh, well more than I normally am...where have you been? I thought you were going to get in touch. I've been doing loads of climbing, soloing loads of routes, I'm really honed."

I couldn't begin to imagine what a honed Cosmic would look like!

Cubby
25/10/2001