Radtke's debut book. On Sale Now. Signed and personalised copies are available at a special discounted price of £20.00 direct from this site. Simply click on the email icon and send your request. Books are dispatched on receipt of payment.

There has been a plethora of climbing books over the past few years, many written to a predictable and fairly conventional formula which provides light, informative reading and a record of derrring-do. Seldom are we challenged or even fully engaged and the necessary, if unfortunate, practice of skipping odd bits becomes a prerequisite to the warding off of boredom. There have been notable exceptions and the likes of Pritchard and Cave immediately come to mind. What, then, are we to make of the canvas on which Mark Radtke (AKA Rad) portrays his memories, passions and thoughts on the great game which means so much to us but on which we are generally unable to articulate our own experiences.

Let’s not be niggardly in our appreciation. It’s the finest piece of meaningful writing, on what is, after all, a wonderfully complex and superficially pointless activity, to grace my bookshelf in a long time. On a purely practical level the hardback production is professionally done, the pictorial selection and production excellent and just enough technical information included to allow the book to appeal to a wide audience. It looks right and feels right. I get the impression that nothing has gone into the book which hasn’t been carefully considered. The dust jacket artwork speaks volumes for what is contained within.

The author starts in the time honoured tradition of childhood, upbringing and formative years, related with wonderful description which will bring back half forgotten glimpses of early days for many a time-served rock-climber and mountaineer. Green, slime-covered ponds, dark tunnels and brushes with authority are the basis of adventures which probably continue throughout life as we continue our pursuit of rock and ice. This theme continues throughout the book; indeed, this is what it’s all about. It takes the author through his development as a climber, his interaction with friends and his various careers as he continually reinvents himself to follow the dictates of his quest for adventure. Early Alpine attempts, intimate exploration of the Yorkshire crags, Spain, Australia and America are all described with graphic detail, humour and occasionally regret. Rad clearly doesn’t keep still for very long. Fortunately, when he does the time seems to be devoted to introspection, self analysis and, most importantly, fun.

But this book is not just about Rad. It’s also about you and me and a host of colourful characters who are all part of the great game we simply refer to as ‘climbing’. It’s a commentary on the intrinsic beauty of the outdoors, the fun, the compulsion and dedication, uncomfortable though they sometimes may be. It challenges danger, injury and reward. It’s about friendship, self knowledge, honesty and trust between we happy band of brothers. Serious stuff this, but told with humour and sometimes self deprecation so that we cannot fail to identify and feel deeply involved.

Whilst following Rad’s adventures through the many facets of climbing I was repeatedly struck by similarities and empathies with the life of Pete Livesey; the acceptance of risk, the restless need to explore and innovate, the concern for the future. Where the two depart is over the introduction of sport climbing. Whilst Pete was irrevocably opposed, Rad embraces the bolt but with some misgivings and apprehension as to the potential change it might bring; ‘they foster comfort zone mentality’ and ‘feed a culture of pure recreation’. He makes no attempt to preach or persuade but cogently discusses what lies at the roots of climbing at whatever standard, giving cause to consider our own attitudes and responses. As a habitual user of climbing walls, I’ve watched in awe as relative newcomers fly through the air with the greatest of ease. I too get the worrying thought that something might be missing. Should this be the case, then the loss of the fundamental element of adventure, so effectively expounded in this book, would be a sad and serious loss to climbing.

Enough of this, lest I give the impression that the book is overly pessimistic and philosophical. Whilst I was given cause to consider the future, I also fell about laughing at the past, including the wonderful description of the legendry hyper active Alan Stephenson aka Heavy Duty ‘mouth twitching like a rabbit’s nose’. It’s exactly how he was and I’d never realised it! This is engaging writing which seamlessly moves between the humour of fun climbing and something altogether more serious. It extends from shared days spent on competitive bouldering to the personal intensity of hard traditional climbing in Gordale, where outcomes can be very different. A timely first book, it leaves me with the definite feeling that there is more to come from this author. I look forward to sharing his continuing adventure.

John Sheard