A year on the dull end of the rope: A belayers perspective.

“Behind every great climb, there is an even greater belayer” - Unknown

 This year in the club has been one of its most active years. But while others were off trad climbing or hiking, I decided to focus on the solid foundation and often overlooked aspect of mountaineering – Belaying.

Getting thawed out after a particularly cold belay in Scotland

 When I joined the club several years ago I never knew what path I would take, would I become a crusty die-hard trad climber? A beanie-sporting boulderer? A hardy hiker? It really should have been clearer to me what my calling in the club was, that cold September evening when a girl called Grainne, (not the Grainne all you youngins' know, an older one), took me by the harness and thought me how to belay.

 The knowledge and experience I have accumulated since then have become an integral part of who I am. It is only for those who can have such great patience while these silly climbers fart about on their “climbs”. It is only those, who can stand there shouting overly helpful beta so you do not concentrate too much. Only those who can put up with extreme weather events such as 'sunburn' or 'windchill'.

After a lot of practice and dedication people can reach a high level of belaying. A level which I only realised recently that I was breaking into. It is a level for those who have spent years perfecting the techniques such as assisted Dyno, the ten-finger spot and the mythical no hand belay.

Rare photo of me concentrating hard on a no-handed belay.

  Belaying at a high level requires intense focus and discipline. Most climbing accidents involve a belayer in some sense, and current statistics say that for every climber tied into a rope, there is often a belayer at the other end. It is not an easy thing to take someones life into your hands, let alone to let them bask in the glory of climbing hard routes, while you reserve yourself for the peace and quiet that comes from a life of belaying.  High end belaying can often involve dangers such as uneven ground at the base of the climb, difficult access routes to meet you climber afterward, or even “flights” as they are called in the industry. Flights are the danger that every belayer must be ready for, an unexpected launch off the ground towards the heavens. It seems as of late, the harder the climb the bigger the fall and the higher the flight. Eating vast quantities of food has helped me slow such flights, or tieing myself to tress.

 This year I turned to teaching others how to Belay, and quickly gained notoriety among the freshers as being a strict tester. A rumour reached my ears that they had taken to calling me “Wicked Bill: the belay bandit” but that may have been a dream. Teaching others an important skill is no small task, and although none of my testees are in bad shape I noticed a few other unhappy mishaps about the wall who had apparently “Passed”. They were quickly sent back to the classroom and order was restored to the climbing wall, before it's citizens noticed what was afoot. (Looking at you gri-gri gropers and dead hand droppers!)

  Belaying is a great way to get out of the house for a day!”
“Do you ever climb?”
“No, fuck that.” 
- Belayer Magazine Interview 2014

 Personally I have had some fantastic belaying experiences, some of which would be seen as very experimental belaying, and even banned in some belaying circles, such as the Irish belaying association. Such experiences include but are not limited to belaying 'blind' on a multipitch in Glendalough and having to ring the climber to find out if they had finished, belaying while sitting in the drivers seat of a van in the Gap when the handbrake came off, belaying myself down an E9 in the mournes(often called abseiling) and finding out that the rope had frayed. There also have been some hairier situations, like in Scotland this year where I was so involved in finding my gloves, that Paul had practically finished the Gully climb before I had a chance to put him on belay! Was I going to allow him to steal a ripe belaying opportunity off me like that? Hell no! I made him downclimb some conveniently placed choss and start again so I could get my rush of belaying. Another tricky thing this year was learning that the correct response to “ICE!!!” is to duck your head, not look up and say “No thanks, just a straw”. 

Accepting belayer of the year award 2015

 A lot of these experiences required all of my training as a belayer and often require tough decisions. One example which gave me an ultimatum was in France this year, while the lads where climbing a multipitch frozen waterfall using twin ropes. I noticed that the ropes had started to freeze together, so feeding them out separately was starting to become a problem. Paul was already 3 ice screws up the waterfall and calling for more rope, and the way I saw it I had two choices.

 I could walk away, from everything that I had worked towards over the past few years, all of the nights standing in the sport centre hungry and wanting dinner, but often staying because my climber was still off the ground. The evenings where standing in Dalkey that I left my down-stuffed belay jacket out of reach while belaying and had to put up with a slight chill, or even days in the Gap last summer where getting eaten alive by swarms of midges and I had left the midge spray in the car.
 Or I could stand there, knee deep in snow, hands approaching freezing point and commit to what some belayers would consider one of the hardest sends of the year, knowing that if I could finish this challenge alive I would forever be in the annals of Belayer history.

Getting ready to join belayer history

Ultimately I knew that I could not leave Paul, he had the room key, so I did what any belayer in their right mind would do. I peed on Pauls ropes. As torrents of warm urine melted the layer of frigid snow and ice that had wrapped around them, and Paul screamed for more slack all I could hear was the gentle sound of nature and the sweet release knowing that I was going to make it, I was going to live to see another belay. As a party of French climbers that were approaching behind us looked on in horror, I looked past the shoulder of the climbing leader who was shouting obscenities in French, “Baise!” and “C'est ta merde!”, I could just make out a small moustached French man, who looked up not in shock, but in respect and admiration, a man who knew what it took to be a belayer, "Championne" he breathed.

So where do I go now?
I would like to focus on some harder belay projects, I hear that there are some great E12 routes left to have a second belay done on. Other projects that I am working on are things like pulley systems so your belayer does not have to walk around afterwards, or so you can bring them up multipitches with you, and a photographed guide to belaying in Ireland. To be honest I don't know. The world of belaying is as exciting as it is dynamic. And after featuring in high profiles such as this blog and a quarter page spread in Belayer Magazine I might just look into retiring. Maybe get a nice beach house in Bali where as an old man I can sit on the beach and belay from a sunchair, shouting beta at the seagulls as the tide comes in.  

 -Ross Biggane,
2015