WHAT'S IN A NAME?
An ego trip, a tribute or just plain daft? Cubby looks at the names of climbs and remembers some of the characters behind them
Politics, art, humour, war, sex, drugs and rock and roll. You name it and it has been done in climbing. Route names will often reflect much about a climber, their personality and even provide an insight into their private lives. Some are pretentious, romantic, witty, even clever, while others are perverse or simply weird. But what kinds of names inspire such abstract forms of identity. Names such as The Incredible Doctor Sex, Transam Wheel Arch Nostrils, The Whoremistress, Misogynous Discharge, Risqui Grapefruit, The Truth Hurts and Hamish Teddy's Excellent Adventure - the list is endless.
Let's face it, when you look around climbers are an odd bunch really, the majority of whom are linked by a common thread that can be traced back to early school days. They are often the quiet and individualistic type and not by nature team players. I would not like to go as far as saying that climbers are social outcasts, although some clearly are, but we definitely mature into a person of the non-conformist variety and with a tendency to live in our own little world.
Perhaps a time warp would be more descriptive and which can be reflected in a surprising number of first ascents, sharing the same route names, plagiarised from the same old classic books and music. Lord of the Rings and Frank Zappa being two timeless favourites! Originality it has to be said is an attribute that many climbers are not blessed with. But to be fair, it is not easy expressing originality with so many activists and new routes going up when compared to decades in the past.
Take Creag Dubh near Newtonmore, which has been christened with a subject that has been around since time began. Its sexual theme has been at the centre of controversy over the years, but personally speaking, I think it is brilliant, perhaps not for the reasons you might suspect! There is something about the character of the crag, its ambience and style of climbing that compliments its sexual theme - and I'm not talking about pretty feral goats and sheep! Creag Dubh has also provided Scottish climbers with a bewildering source of - well I suppose pornographic education would be the best way to describe it.
I was a wide-eyed schoolboy when I first ventured into Creag Dubh's "bosom unguided". The climb was Downtown Lunch, a Bedtime Buttress classic that was first put up in the 60's by the late Fred Harper. The name always intrigued me and for a long time I conjured up innocent images of the first ascensionist celebrating their new climb by dining out in the nearby village of Newtonmore! For years I thought that the climb Niagra, located on Waterfall Wall, finally broke from the sexual theme and was named due to its proximity to the waterfall. But not so as I recently discovered while watching a documentary on TV. Niagra - not Viagra - is the name of a movie starring Marilyn Monroe.
We all climb because essentially we enjoy it but sometimes I think climbers enjoy naming their climbs a lot more than they do climbing them! In fact many climbers will have a list of inspirational names stashed away but not always a worthy line. This is not as uncommon as you might think and if you look back through the history of climbing and at communities living in mountainous areas, features and unclimbed features on mountains were often pre named. Sgorr Dhonuill above the Ballachulish bridge, known locally as The Dinosaurs Tooth and The Banana Groove on Ben Nevis being good examples.
Route naming or providing a new route with an appropriate name is certainly something of an art form. Two exponents in this field were Robin Smith and Jimmy Marshall. Many of their lines and the names they were christened with have stood the test of time, almost to the extent that they were meant for each other. Names like Shibboleth, YoYo, Trapeze, The Big Top, Gallows Route, Needle, Club Crack and The Bat. I couldn't imagine these climbs to be any other way. They just wouldn't sound right.
Going back to the subject of originality, a good friend of mine from the 70's epitomised all the attributes of a brilliant climber. His name is Derek Jamieson but he was more commonly known as the Spaz Lobbiloid. Don't ask me what a Spaz Lobbiloid is but when you meet Derek you'll know what I mean. I suppose it's a sort of creature thing that lives on another planet!
Derek came up with a fruit and vegetable theme, which was simple but I think quite brilliant. Some of the names will be familiar to those of you who have climbed in Glen Nevis and Creag Dubh. Names such as Lucy Lime, Risque Grapefruit, Savage Cabbage, Snappy Carrot, Les Boys and Instant Lemon. Derek in some respects was a typical guidebook ticker and the pages of his guides were always adorned with little comments and remarks, relating to grades and descriptions etc.
He was infatuated with reading labels on the back of bean tins and the likes and always insisted on reading the ingredients out loud - much to the annoyance of everyone round about him. I never completely understood what was going on inside the Lobbiloid's brain when he thought of those names but I do remember his fascination for harmless household fruit and vegetables transforming into vicious little monsters that ran riot, violently snapping at people's throats!
To provide you with a better insight into the mind of a Spaz, (I say "a" Spaz because I've met similar like-minded creatures over the years), while on a trip south to the Lakes. Murray Hamilton was at the wheel of his trusty Beagle van with the rest of us asleep as usual in the back when the Spaz suddenly sprung to life, laughing to himself. Even his laugh was odd and inevitably developed into a choking wheeze that could only be remedied by a quick suck on his spinhaler.
"Just imagine", he would say in his high pitched, squeaky Edinburgh accent. We all knew something bizarre was in the making and as we knew Derek well, we tended to ignore him. "Just imagine", laughing at his own thoughts between bouts of spluttering and wheezing, "just imagine if the engine leapt out of the bonnet of the car and landed on the roof. No...seriously, what would you think?" "F*!? shut the creature up", Murray would shout and we would all beat him up. So Derek if you are still on this planet, let us know how you are and what these names really mean and what inspired them.
Well I can't mention Spaz without another close friend from that period, Dave Brown or Cosmic Dave. What a team, Spaz Lobbiloid and Cosmic Dave. Their climbing partnership ended abruptly one day because Cosmic, who was basically born a century too late and loved manky gullies, dragged a protesting Spaz up the Chasm in full spate. I say dragged but they were soloing when the Spaz fell off and nearly drowned in a plunge pool from both the weight of his rucksack and the force of the water.
I'll never forget Dave's annoyance as we descended Curved Ridge, having completed a warm and sunny rock climb on Rannoch Wall. "The f*!? arse fell off". Half an hour later a perishing, drowned rat-like Spaz slowly made his way to join us, muttering "Brown's insane...the boy's insane". Cosmic was an amazing character with an incredibly creative and vivid imagaination. I use the word vivid but perhaps hallucinogenic might be more descriptive, as most of the time he would be high on some weird and wonderful substance.
To put you in the picture, Cosmic lived in Malaya with his folks up until the age of about eleven or twelve, before returning to Edinburgh. I remember my first climbing trip with him. The weather was too bad for ice climbing in the Cairngorms so we camped at Creag Dubh, where we climbed Fred - the only gully on the crag! Apart from Cosmic forgetting the poles and always spilling everything inside the tent, we smoked hollow reeds stuffed with grass which we'd picked in the woods outside the tent, and dipped Burma Sheroots (mini cigars) in meths from the stove and some green cannabis that he picked from his secret crop next to the Water of Leith in Edinburgh.
Although we were more or less the same age, I was both impressed and slightly over awed by Cosmic because he resembled Dougal Haston, only a little scruffier. He soloed a lot and climbed VS which was far out to us as beginners. He would talk with this amazing slow and exaggerated purple haze accent and would often say in jest, the world is just a purple haze - man.
Cosmic was fascinated by Derek. "The Spaz is f*!? weird" and he would chuckle to himself at the thought..."but you should meet the family!". Anyway that night in the tent, during the early hours, there was a frantic thrashing at the canvas. I'd never been away with Cosmic and I was slightly alarmed. "What's wrong, are you okay?" I enquired. The thrashing eventually calmed down and then there was silence. "Flashbacks". There was another pause - silence can be spooky. "Don't you know, don't you realise?" "No, I'm sorry I don't. What do you mean?" I said in all innocence. "When I was in Malaya I smoked raw opium!"
More recently Dave started climbing again but for a long time he gave it up. The direction that climbing trends were taking clashed with his pioneering spirit. He played in a band with his brother and said that it was fantastic when dillies (girls) would try and rip his trousers off! Dave then got a job with MacCarthy's pharmaceutical company as a goods-in clerk, weighing drugs for retail - the mind boggles - and was last seen driving across Bruntsfield Links in a park keepers buggy at high speed, wearing a council jacket and shouting "legalise cannabis!" His parting gesture to the climbing scene was "f*!? hell Dave, you'll never understand, but I was verging on alcoholism...until I became a junkie."
Cosmic never actually did that many new routes but I think you can imagine where he got his inspiration. He would always mock some of my romantic route names such as Run Free. Of his own though, Grimcling is one that sticks in my mind and Wheelchair Route, so called because your granny could do it, but actually it was quite hard at the time.
Back to normality, at least relatively speaking, and a few personal climbs that have some interesting meanings.
Revengence - I took a nasty fall while attempting the first ascent of this climb and returned at a later date with a degree of what would normally be described as avengeance. A journalist I knew at that time thought it was an intellectual and interesting use of the English language. Very flattering - if only he knew the uneducated truth!
Rock Lord - for many climbers I'm sure this name smacked of pure vanity but in fact the reality could not be further from the truth. Rock Lord was a tribute to Colin Gilchrist who died in an avalanche on the Buachaille. The name itself derived from a letter he wrote to me which started by saying, "Hiya Rock Lord". Ironically he had written to tell me of one of his best friend's death in a climbing accident.
Prophet of Purism - was inspired by a picture I had seen of an American climber on a groove that resembled a feature on my own route. It was captioned "Steve Wunsch, prophet of purism on..." The name was used tongue in cheek and I certainly wanted people to think I was being egotistical.
Marjorie Razor Blade - the infamous little crack at Dunkeld and the title track to this classic Kevin Coyne album were meant for each other! As a rule I rarely looked towards music as a source for route names but by comparison to some of the more popular albums such as the Eagles's Hotel California, it was so unusual and bizarre that I just had to use it.
County Ethics - obviously a pun on cricket but the county ethic in Northumberland on a new route is that any protection must be placed on the lead, which was duly executed. No fears there for woe betide anyone who undermines the local Geordie gurus, Bob and Tommy Smith!
Elliots Downfall - has been named such for three reasons. Firstly it is an appropriate companion to Finlay's Rise on nearby Gearr Aonach in Glen Coe, named after Ewan Finlay's farm which is located below the route. Elliots Downfall is also prone to collapse but the main reason behind its name is because Willie Elliot, a local personality and farmer, who lives at the Atriochtan Farm believed that the icicle belonged to Hamish McInnes and if Hamish couldn't do it then nobody can! So it came as a bit of a shock to poor old Willie when a young upstart climbed the infamous icicle. He did offer me a dram in the Clachaig afterwards though.
Cubby
19/1/2001
