Joe Brown

Another change that occurred during his lifetime was the introduction of nylon ropes in place of the unreliable hemp ones. Although these made falling off a safer proposition Joe fell very rarely, having tremendous confidence in his ability and rarely misjudging the difficulties ahead. Indeed, he says that he fell 9 times in his first 9 years climbing, then didn’t fall off in the next 26 years, a total of only 9 falls in 35 years intensive climbing! — today’s sports climbers fall off more often than that in a week.

In the end though much comes down to Joe’s personal drive and physique, a mixture of physical and mental ability that has never been surpassed. Manual work and climbing at every opportunity kept him fit. He had exceptional flexibility and could literally place his foot at shoulder height or bridge very wide corners. He had a remarkable innate sense of balance, great strength (although surpassed in pure strength this by some others in the Rock and Ice), particularly in his fingers, and a good build for the steep and overhanging rock that was his playground. Indeed, Geoff Sutton had already rightly suggested (Snowdon Biography) that "future advances in rock climbing will be made by men of less than medium height, but of strong and lithe physique". Above all he had a remarkable ability to understand the mechanics of a sequence of moves, enabling him to reach positions and sometimes to rest in places that others would find impossible. His eye for a line, and his ability to put together a classic route are legendary. When the way ahead has looked hopeless, Joe has many a time engineered a devious solution through overhangs, around corners or across bare slabs. Part of this ability comes with experience, but a major factor is also his approach. Many technically very capable climbers are unable to push themselves to their limits without knowing the route ahead is possible. Such people may be fine sports or competition climbers, make numerous early repeats of test-pieces, and indeed establish many high standard routes of their own, but they can never make the breakthrough in commitment that enables them to climb at their own limit when moving into unknown ground. Not only can Joe do this, he positively enjoys it. Indeed, his first thought on seeing a new crag would be to spy out lines, not to try and find out where existing routes went, or what others had tried to do. It is interesting what he says about his falls: “In the first nine years of climbing I fell nine times. Then I didn’t fall for twenty six years, and I haven’t fallen since….that’s another twenty four years. I’d hate to think what would happen if I fell now, with all my joints knackered, so I don’t get in those situations any more.”

Most of his first ascents have been climbed from the ground up without prior inspection or cleaning. Indeed in the Alps this ability is a pre-requisite to success on any major new lines as detailed inspection will never be possible.

The fact that the Joe and his companions in the Valkyrie Club and later in the “Rock and Ice” had no elder statesmen to guide and control them was also influential in their climbing. Being outside the mainstream meant that they had few inhibitions either about trying the hardest test pieces of the day. In the early days they occasionally used pitons too readily, but it was partly down to this preparedness to do so that they were able to push up the standards. They also had an unconventionality of approach that brought them to use unusual tactics such as the rope manoeuvres on Llithrig and White Slab. The very coming together at the same time of a lot of highly talented climbers in the Rock and Ice was fortuitous — through peer pressure it was easier for them to push each other and so raise the standards, than it was for others who were operating in limbo. It is remarkable, for example, that their new routes on Cloggy were unrepeated except by other members of the group until Hugh Banner made the breakthrough with a second ascent of Diglyph in 1956.

Olly Burrows