KMC Annual Dinner Speech: 1999 Kevin LANG Anderson
By Kevin Anderson
Perhaps it's a good idea to have each years annual dinner speech included in the Newsletter to provide a personal "interpretation" of the club's activities during that year. Good to look back over in years to come when we're all too ancient to move from our commode.
This isn't the first time today I've got up off a warm seat with a piece of paper in my hand!
I'd like to begin by taking this opportunity to welcome Alan and Jean McGeerie to the annual dinner and more generally back into the KMC fold. Apparently the last time Alan attended such an event was in 1966 - hopefully his return now will signal a similar renaissance in English football.
I'd also like to congratulate Joanne and Vinny on their diamond anniversary which they're celebrating today - or at least Joanne tells me it feels that long!
As those of you not already lost in an alcohol-induced blur of reality and imagery may have noticed, I'm not the red haired lass from the land of Dana, Peat Bogs and EU subsidies that was billed as the KMC warm-up act. For some reason Mary found the prospect of facing the combined wrath of a well lubricated KMC a too daunting a prospect, and so, in true Mary Stuart style, rather than simply claim a 24 hour flu bug or some other minor debilitation, she booked a ticket to some uncharted corner of Bolivia. And so I'm left here holding the baby.
When, at almost the last moment Mary, putting on her best lilting Irish brogue, asked if I'd fill-in for her I was promised copious notes, amusing anecdotes and detailed accounts of high-altitude adventure. Taken in by her Blarney and fluttering eyelashes I agreed, only to have a folded bit of paper thrust in my hand as she boarded her flight. With Mary safely settling into her fifth G&T at 30 000 feet I unfolded the bit of paper, presuming it would tell me where to find her slanderous script, only to discover five scribbled points, "give Chris Williamson hell, -- preface all comments with "allegedly", -- you're on after the grub, -- don't let the truth get in the way of a good story, - and give Chris Williamson hell". Not quite what I'd hoped for!!! Left with few options I went down the pub last Thursday and, with notebook and pen in hand, proceeded to weadle a few "stories" out of those present - so if you think my speech biased in any way, or you're character unfairly besmirched, it's your own fault for not being there to represent your home-grown prejudices, gripes and malicious rumours.
Tradition seems to dictate that the KMC after dinner bit be a side-splittingly funny attack on ourselves and our vertical failings. However, I want to break with this a little and focus more on our successes and achievements - this offers two benefits, first, it significantly reduces the length of the speech, and second I think as a club we have a lot to be proud of - both as a possy of personalities and as a collection of climbers
The past year has seen KMC members active in a wealth of "outdoor" activities both locally and globally - some legal, some still subject to subjudicy and some others simply too sordid and salacious to be regaled to such a sensitive and upstanding audience as yourselves.
So what's been happening within our shores?
Well, following the dictat of Heir Mary, lets start with Chris Williamson's fine example of Big Wall climbing. As I'm sure you're all aware Chris has notched up more vertical hours in 1999 than all us remaining KMC members put together. What's perhaps even more impressive is the shear dogged determination, dedication and shear absence of imagination demonstrated by our own home grown Jo 90, as virtually all these arduous hours were spent on one epic siege of the White Peak's answer to the Nose of El Cap. Sergonia is a demanding, if slightly over-graded, Hard Severe soaring '50 feet' above Chee Tor's gently rolling banks of lush green flora - a route so ahead of its time and awe inspiring that Plasy Brenan save it for the afternoon of their one day pre-school climbing course. To help you really savour the seriousness of this route just bear in mind that Rocine hesitated slightly before soloing up to clean the holds in preparation for Chris's ascent. Anyway, to cut a long factual account short, a patient Sabina belayed him for the first 11 feet, before a slim Brigette took over. Still belaying she was joined one night, very briefly, by Roger, and later, while Chris struggled through the 4a crux, Brigette, ever-vigilante, managed to give birth to a baby boy. This minor aside was soon followed with Chris, now sporting a 3 foot beard, finally topping out!
And what of Chris's next adventure? Well, with his almost legendary night out on Idwal and now this first - Chris is certainly bringing the full Himalayan atmosphere to our local Crags. He asked me to mention that he's currently looking for sherpers for his next project, a siege ascent of the 6 move Christmas Tree problem at Glossop Wall - you'll need plenty of food, a couple of weeks off work, and several good books.
Continuing with the theme of daring deeds, KMC's 007 agent - Alois Rudolf Metelko, (Al to all of us) also put in a sterling performance with his final completion of the infamous back wall traverse at Hobby Moor. Whilst this achievement eclipsed Als other UK ventures, it is also worth noting that he made clean ascents of The Strand at Gogarth and several E2s at Pembroke - using a total of three runners between them all! To complement all this upward and sideways climbing Al also did a bit of the 32ft/sec/sec downward stuff when taking a 25' whipper off the crux of Slape Direct on the Grochan - thankfully his rope snagged over a small spike as Al's runners tend to be more aesthetic than functional.
Talking of gravity, our resident Jock also came a cropper in North Wales - this time on Gogarth. Sheena and Nevil had beaten this bunch of Essex boys onto the cliff and whilst the Trev and Chaz types sat at the foot of the route discussing the merits of various Capri door trims, Sheena and Nevil attempted to beat Pantin into submission. With Sheena just a few more aid points from success her ettriers popped, a loud crack echoed round the cliffs followed by a blood curdling rumble as a block the size of Goose's ego hurtled earthwards. Whilst Nevil's stitch earned its keep by plucking a cursing Scot from her plummeting predicament, the rock reunited with mother earth shattering into a myriad of football size fragments. Unfortunately one of the Essex boys, a bit muddled by the calamity, thought he was at Stamford Bridge and tried heading one of the fragments. Thankfully his Mum had bought him one of those state of the art Camp climbing lids, this combined with the genetic disposition of Essex types meant he escaped with nowt but what us northern folk would consider minor cuts and bruises - but, believe it or not, this southern softy has actually gone for litigation - not that he could spell it!!
A rather more successful venture during the KMCs year was the ascent of Longlands on Cloggy by that valiant partnership of Colin and Duncan. Quite how Colin managed to persuade Duncan that Cloggy was actually a roadside crag remains a mystery - though the fact that their ascent was on a hazy Sunday following last years Christmas bash may explain the collapse of Duncan's resolve not to build-up his legs though unnecessary walking. The conditions for the climb were as you might expect for a mountain crag in December, - a cold damp start followed by a good soaking just as they got above the last easy abseil point. All good character building stuff that feels great in retrospect and rewards you with the opportunity to wear a smug smile when talking to us whimps who spent the afternoon pathetically ambling between Llanberis's various climbing-gizmo shops.
Not to be out done, 1999 also saw the other half of the Whalley bridge Café in fine form. With our skin bathed in an early summer sun and the Pembroke air filled with frisky guilimots, the scent of wild garlic and the sound of the sea, Sabina abed into Huntsmans to attempt her first E2. Thirty minutes later, sporting a beaming grim, she pulled over the top of Shape Up. This was a clean ascent in graceful style - the only dubious tactic being pre-placed squares of chocolate strategically located throughout the route.
Having provided a potted account of various home based goings-on, I now want to proceed to:
Adventures beyond the boundaries of the English Channel.
I'll start by saying a few things about the exploits of this evenings illustrious, though absent, KMC speaker. Mary Stuart, often in the company of Chris Ivory, and occasionally Anne Wooly, has certainly played her part in making the KMC a household name, uttered, usually in disbelief, on the lips of Jordanians, Bolivians and the many other strange tongues covered by her and Chris's interpretation of the OS Snowdonia map. With few exceptions, each route this intrepid pair endeavoured to ascend became an epic, be it the Soaring Cracks and slabs of some virgin WadiRum cliff, the Culin Ridge, or the Purple tags at Warrington Wall. There is clearly no doubt that this partnership extolled that essential mountaineering mix of adventure tempered with reckless planning, poor navigation, the hearts of several lions and a full rack of Lepricorns - long may their daring deeds be the stuff of KMC legend.
Next on the KMC's International hit list is another of Ireland's émigrés Ms Joan Stewart. This relatively new face has put many of us old hands to shame with what can only be described as a prolific year of foreign exploits. Christmas saw her in fierce combat with Thailand's gruelling overhangs, snakes, spiders and scorpions, this was shortly followed by her losing her Winter virginity to several Scottish Grade 4s in the company of that old seasoned goat Al Metelko. Soon after Joan was putting in a rake of fine performances on Spain's beautiful Spring rock before departing for the headier adventure of a seasons climbing in Canada. Here, as well as ascending many of Squarmish's fine crack lines, she learnt a wealth of unusual rope techniques (probably of considerable use in Linda Crossley's line of work) and took numerous photos of Beautiful Canadian scenery, each one sporting a different hunky male leaning provocatively against an "A" Team style van - it's from these hunks that she learnt her rope tricks!!
Staying with that part of the globe, when doing my sleuth bit at the Crown and Anchor I asked Rick what Ruth and he had got up to? Forthcoming and eloquent as ever he replied with "Ay up, we climbed a bit you know, happen". Pushed further I found that Ruth and our Gallant President spent many fine days climbing classic routes in the land of the Cigar, the Stained dress and a Foreign Policy reminiscent of the Mongol Hoards. Keeping up the British end our intrepid couple lent support to the old adage that only Mad Dogs and Englishwomen go out in the Midday sun by climbing Desert Tower in the middle of August - with Rick no doubt still wearing his Jeans! Knowing that Rick had buggered fingers I enquired as to what grand achievements Ruth had made in the past year, "nowt" was his first reply, followed by an obviously incredulous memory flashing through his mind, "happen, she did learn to jam, I, and even climbed several tricky crack pitches".
The onslaught of our colonial cousins crags continued with a visit by that sterling Whalley Bridge pair of Sabina and our home grown version of Keith Richards. Levitating through an ethereal cloud of burning leaves Sab and Duncan got high on many routes and even managed a bit of climbing - ticking off the Devils Tower and various other crags around the Mid West.
A bit nearer home, though still abroad , found Alois Rudolf active both with axe and rubber. Perhaps his most inspiring achievement last winter occurred during one of his infamously mad dashes to that Independent Republic just North of Carlisle. On this occasion he returned to the Northwest having bagged a solo ascent (aren't all Al's routes!!) of Mega-Route X - a grade 6 'ard mens climb on the Ben. In many respects though, Al is a man of the mountains, so perhaps more impressive were his numerous ascents in the Costa Duarada - with him managing many fine clips, a few fumbles, and, a particularly tricky red point. I'd also like to pay tribute here to Al's environmental conscience in avoiding any contact with either soap or water throughout the full two weeks we spent on the Spanish cliffs, - though flying back in the cargo hold was a tad uncomfortable.
Rumours of several other foreign exploits reached my ears, but unfortunately were not supported with corroborating evidence. In short, I was told that "Jim has no doubt walked round Greenland again" though there was a rider to this tale that rather find himself on Greenland's Mountains he alighted from the plane only to find himself, through some arial cock-up, in the Netherlands? Pete Walker, Keith Williams and Chris Thickett risked life and limb on Italy's rusting via ferrata, Dave Dillon and Christine Beeston had a trip to the Alps - more rock jock stuff than flailing axes and crampons from what I hear. Mark and Michelle molested Orangutangs in Borneo. Nevil and Sheena exhibited early symptoms of Marious Stuartous when they got completely lost somewhere between Austria and Yugoslavia. And finally, lots of folk exchanged Salford and Warrington walls for sun-soaked visits to Spain.
On a non-climbing front several exciting events have occurred during 1999.
Firstly the KMC has acquired a new wardened hut at Stavely in the Lakes, free accommodation, home cooked food and a warm welcome anytime day or night.
As mentioned earlier, Bridget and Roger had, despite Bridget's best efforts, a baby boy. To which Dr Mary Stuart was heard to enquire "was Bridget present at the birth?"
Rob Alan was discovered interfering with a couple of minors - unfortunately for him the parents were in the front seats at the time and weren't taken in by his rather limp excuse that he was just passing through. Anyway he's out on bail now, though his name has been included on one of those lists!
Just prior to going into print I heard that Mr Goose had fallen in love - apparently it was all a mistake and actually just his reflection in the bathroom mirror. On the rebound from this traumatic shock he met a beautiful Russian Princess whose visa was unfortunately about to expire, it was lust at first sight, and an hour later they were married. Watch this space for news on forthcoming goslings!
Finally, as can be seen from this potted history, 1999 has been a time of much climbing and adventure both at home and further afield. That said, for myself and I'm sure all of us here, my enduring memory of the year is of Norah's memorial, and indeed of her life in emphasising the real value of the relationships and comradeship embedded in the club - values that we all too often take for granted.
And so to the Guest Speaker.
Not knowing Andy personally, I decided to e mail a deep throat source at the BMC to find out a bit about this likely lad. This next bit is a direct quote from that source:
Dirt on Andy, well, there's soooo much to tell. Here are a few that I'm sure he won't mind (too much).
Andy has always denied that he is in fact ginger, but we have proof. An active member of Leeds University climbing club, Andy once let his enthusiasm get the better of him, and clambered up scaffolding propped up against the Town Hall one night whilst coming home from the pub. He and his chums didn't notice that St James hospital was directly opposite, and the police were quickly called. He was arrested, officially classed as ginger, and a highly uncomfortable night in the cells followed. The non gingers were released somewhat earlier.
Turned up at the Old Dungeon Gyhll in a leather mini-skirt for a Leeds club dinner entitled "Deviance". Looked pretty good too, but chaos ensued when he was chucked out into the public bar, much to the lake district farmers delight.
Rolled the minibus on the way up to Scotland, just outside Leeds. Massive damage, people and gear all over the road. Immediately nipped into the nearest pub, had a swift half, ordered a hire car and continued up for a top weekend. Leaving assorted students and ice gear strewn all over the A65.
His 30th birthday party caused structural damage to the house, and fractured a gas main in the basement, which the neighbours noticed just in time before the house blew up, meanwhile as the front garden wall was getting knocked down, Andy was busy lining up all the girls for a birthday kiss.
However in his advancing age he is calming down, and now concentrates his energies on maximum consumption of Chardonnay and occasionally knocking up the odd copy of Summit magazine.
And so, without further ado, I give you Andy McNae.
