Pete Oxley on the first ascent of Shock to the System, Promenade | Photo: Rob Godfray
The First Bolts in Dorset – No Clip-Ups!
In 1986, in line with events elsewhere in the UK, Pete took the controversial step of placing the first bolts in Dorset. These weren’t clip-ups! They were single, lonely bolts on the Swanage routes, Tessalations and Birth Pains of New Nations, then rated E5 and a very bold E6 respectively. In 1987, he introduced E7, with Mark of the Beast at Stair Hole, which he later retro-bolted. In 1988, he surpassed this with Laughing Arthur, E8, the biggest free roof in the UK, still unrepeated. Roof climbing became his forte and passion. Infinite Gravity (8a+) could be the steepest pitch in the UK, with only one known repeat in thirteen years. Palace of the Brine, still unrepeated after a similar time, may, like Vespasian, turn out to be 8b. Adrenochrome and Burn Hollywood Burn are probably undergraded at 8a. Ironically, through working in isolation, Pete may have unwittingly undergraded some of his best routes. Only further ascents will tell!
And All the While, Sleepy Portland Waited...
And yet, all the while, sleepy Portland waited, “a cheesy, unfashionable Gogarth, that no-one ever visited.” Crispin Waddy’s realisation that the rock, on Battleship at least, was harder than it looked, led to tentative probings. On these protectionless walls, some form of ethical compromise was needed. For Pete and for Martin Crocker, that compromise was minimalist bolting, threads and pegs. However, once such pegs were weighted, the placements quickly eroded. Bad news for doggers! Pete received a memorable rant from one notable, who fell twelve metres after pegs stripped from the aptly named Realm of Chaos. Typically, the bold E5s and E6s were totally ignored by the mainstream.
A Rude Conversion
Pete’s conversion came with a potentially fatal ten metre groundfall from Hell Bent, E6 6c, a minimalist route at Cheddar. Rejection of the oft-unsatisfactory compromise of minimalist protection, left two distinct forms of climbing – trad and sport. With consensus, areas could accommodate both styles. For Pete, a trad route should have no bolts, whereas a sport route should be well bolted. The rigour of this stance was starkly defined by bolt-free ascents of Critics Choice, E7 6b, at Avon and Breaking the Habit, E7 6c, in Pembroke. With rare lapses, he has stuck by this philosophy ever since.
An Outrageous Six Bolts – but Still Runout!
In a pioneering article for OTE 13, on Portland, ‘the Gibraltar of Wessex’, Pete explained that the miles of blank, crumbling walls between the cracks offered obvious hard route potential, but inadequate natural gear. The first full scale sport climb in Dorset was Cocteau Phenomena, 7b+ at Blacknor, in 1989, an intricate, delectable sequence on a big, Dolomitic wall. Pete’s OTE justification was, “an outrageous six bolt ladder that’s still runout, a radical move perhaps, one that would only be chopped by suicide climbers.” These days, there are nine bolts – and the final moves can still feel runout!
A Lonely Orgy of Labour… Yields a Sport Climbing Paradise
Rejection of minimalist bolting left Pete with a problem of horrifying logistical complexity – retrobolting hundreds of his routes, with thousands of bolts. The agonising effort of hand drills had to be superseded by power drills, firstly a Bosch, then, on Nick White’s advice, a petrol powered monster Ryobi. Conventional bolts were replaced by stainless steel staples, Pete’s little innovation, later to be disseminated throughout the UK, in plain delivery parcels, spreading the virus to other activists! By day, he was placing up to 45 staples, while also engaging in marathon cleaning sessions and high-standard new routing. By night, he was metal-bashing in the proverbial garden shed. When money and steel ran out, he’d use whatever else existed; witness the bed knob on Out of Reach, Out of Mind! Let you who read this be in no doubt: Pete’s lonely orgy of labour has made Portland, and surrounding areas, the sport climbing paradise they are today. Of around 1,200 sport routes, probably 50% are his. Of around 10,000 staples, probably 70% are his, mainly self-funded, costing thousands of pounds. Staples don’t just grow in the rock – as some people seem to think. Go out, as one aspirant did last summer, find the right spot, stake it, abseil, do a few hours cleaning, place half a dozen staples and… you may well end up exhausted and gripped. The paradox of Portland is this: sunny clip-ups are created by scary toil!
Disproving the Uninformed Myth
Pete was also busy elsewhere, creating alternative sport climbing venues at Swanage and Lulworth. His casual solos of Mark of the Beast and Lord of Darkness at F7c/E7, anticipated the deep water soloing boom and trumped its best efforts for many years. He later added many E6 deep water solos in Dorset. Meanwhile he was climbing widely, with over thirty 8a and 8a+ routes in this country and abroad, yet again disproving the uninformed myth that he’s just some kind of minor local phenomenon. In addition to Dorset, his new route tally includes offerings in Cheddar, Avon, Pembroke… and even a few in the Peak!
My Love of This Land
The first Rockfax to Portland changed everything. Goodbye cheesy sub-Gogarth. Hello paradise! The crowds flocked down and found near-eternal sunshine and on-sighting delight. Notable regulars included many of the British Team, such as Simon Nadin, Ian Vickers, Fliss Butler and Chris Cubitt. With soaring demand, the second Rockfax promptly went out of print. Now there is a third one, even bigger and better. Guidebooks write themselves? It’s easy work?? Dream on… No climber burns out faster than a guidebook writer. With Alan James, Pete has lasted the course, not just for one guide but for three (the latter with Mark Glaister, also.) Truly, it seems, My Love of This Land was well named.
Moving On
Yet things move on; people move on. Pete’s full time climbing brought tough times financially. For the last twelve years, he has been deeply appreciative of his partner, Jan, for her unstinting support, both on and off the rocks. Ultimately he abandoned sixty hour climbing weeks for sixty hour studying weeks at college, a lone mature student in a bunch of kids. Redpointing focus and determination brought a First Class Degree in Graphic Design, swiftly put to use starting up his new business, Ratio: Design. But fitness suffered, metabolism changed, weight increased - at 6’ 4”, he’s a big lad! Now in their late thirties/early forties, the Moon, Moffatt, Dawes generation, the boys of 80s summers, are slowing down… or are they?
Well seemingly not Pete! Most of the weight’s come off and training is in full swing. If he’s working six days a week, then the single climbing day must count. And it does. Haka Peruperu, the Maori warriors’ life force, an awesome 8a+ stamina roof near Palace of the Brine, has signalled his comeback with a vengeance. With little time remaining before he emigrates with Jan, to New Zealand, he’s psyched to finish other projects.
A Last Autumn
A last autumn, a few more projects, and he’s gone. The wild spaces and great climbing possibilities of New Zealand may herald a resurgence of restless exploration. Portland, which he loved, will be the poorer for his passing. And yet ‘this precious stone set in a silver sea’ will always be imbued with some part of his vast spirit.
Postscript
With seemingly little time remaining, Pete went back on Lifeforce, an old F8b project in Palace of the Brine, on which he’d almost succeeded fourteen years previously. In a climber’s life, fourteen years is a very long time indeed. In Pete’s case, it was the difference between his carefree mid-twenties and pushing forty.
The huge sea cave of Palace of the Brine is one of the most amazing crags in Britain, surpassing Kilnsey in its steepness and crying out for national attention. The entry level route is a F7c+ with wild roof climbing. Warm, moist air can become trapped in the cave, making redpoints a near-impossibility.
One day I belayed Pete on Lifeforce. Watching someone head out without a warm-up across an 80 foot 8b roof is a truly amazing sight. To avoid rope-drag, I had to pay out huge loops of slack. To me, lashed to my belay to avoid a massive pendulum across the cave, they looked obscene. Pete fought his way almost to the lip before pumping out. Conditions were hopeless. We abandoned Palace of the Brine and went round to Connor Cove so I could do Freeborn Man. Afterwards, down by the lapping waves, we talked for hours. It was an afternoon I’ll never forget.
A few weeks later, against all the odds, Pete redpointed Lifeforce - the hardest route in Dorset and the perfect finale to twenty-five years of devotion to climbing
Editors note: This article was written for the climbing press before Pete emigrated to Australia. For further information about Pete, take a look at Pete's resume...
