Lats, Babes and Bouldering: A Modest Tribute

'We decide that as long as we 'go hard,' it doesn't matter what we do.'

These great words come from one of the most criminally underrated minds Britain has produced in many a year. A fabulous thinker, writer and Bachar-ladderer, he single-handedly dragged Dorset climbing out of the cultural Dark Ages, to new levels of sophistication. I'm talking, of course, about Nu-Skool Portland boulderer Jimbo Kimber.

Many years ago (eight) I read the seminal bouldering article Lats, Babes and Bouldering. Easily bouldering's most quotable literary work, it has had a profound effect on me and many of my peers. The above quote alone gives an insight into the human condition which, considering its humble word count, is nothing short of astonishing.

Ever since I read it, I secretly harboured an ambition to move to the South West of England. Mainly, to see if the lifestyle of Kimber and his cronies really could rival the heady days of my Gritstone apprenticeship. It certainly sounded like it could.

Two weeks ago I got an offer of a job in Bristol. Admittedly it wasn't Weymouth, but it was close enough. It seemed perfect. Not only is the job well paid, I could also manage weekend trips to the Neddyfields, or even the Cuttings, without suffering the ridicule such a destination would attract from some quarters.

At the weekend I packed my bags and headed south. I have started this blog after a suggestion from Jon 'I've Read the Entire Internet at Work and Need More' Fullwood. The idea is my Northern friends can read what I've been up to as and when I sporadically update it.

Anyway I'm off to listen to some tech-trance. Of the quality Dutch variety.