by Hector Mackenzie
THE man called Mike looked nervous.
Truth be told I had a few concerns myself.
We'd only just met and here was me about to put my life in his hands. It has to be said, he didn't look too thrilled about the prospect.
Welcome to the world of indoor climbing. Mike and I were amongst a five-strong group of adults being put through an induction programme by the incredibly encouraging and friendly climbing wall staff at Inverness Leisure Centre. It turned out that all five of us were there some looking more awkward than others in borrowed safety harnesses for one reason: our children. Welcome to the world of the parent.
The lid had been lifted on a whole new world for me when my own two children finally reached the top of an 18-month waiting list for climbing classes on the rather impressive indoor wall.
During the course of hourly sessions run over six weeks, I'd got to know a number of other parents keen to let their children experience an exciting new pursuit but equally clueless about what it actually involved.
With ample opportunity to suss out the typical clientele using the climbing wall while sitting watching my own children, I'd been able to reach some conclusions. First, everyone there appears to know exactly what they're doing. Second, most are lithe, agile and of above-average strength. I saw one guy doing mid-air pull ups on two of the sticky-outy toe/hand holds. After the initial wave of jealously had subsided, I recall thinking that it was a pretty impressive party trick. In a nutshell, I wasn't in my natural environment.
Taking a cue from the obvious relish with which children as young as five are capable of scaling a 40ft wall without so much as a backward glance (and it really is a joy to behold), it quickly dawned that going through an induction course myself was the only way forward. (Or should that be up?) The idea is that you pick up the skills necessary to have the confidence to put the lives of your own children in your hands. This involves learning about belays ingenious little mechanical gizmos which use friction to help ensure a controlled descent following a climb. It didn't take a rocket scientist to work out that using them properly is pretty important.
Back to Mike and the adult induction night. With perhaps a couple of years on me, I estimated that he was, at a conservative estimate, half my weight. He was the guy lucky enough to be randomly paired with me. It was about that point he started to look nervous.
The instructor took the precaution of immediately attaching a large bag of sand to Mike's harness.
That way, if he hopelessly screwed up the whole belaying thing while I was climbing, he wouldn't be pulled heavenwards by my rapid descent. It was as subtle a reminder as I'll ever get that I could still do with losing a pound or twenty.
Before getting anywhere near the wall, though, there was the small matter of learning the old double figure eight knot for the purpose of attaching the wall rope to my safety harness.
Now this was, clearly, A Very Important part of the whole process. Boy Scouts past and present will doubtless laugh at the panic this provoked not only in me but at least two of the other hapless parents present.
After watching instructor Ken's demonstration, I felt myself beginning to break out in a cold sweat. Knots and I have never got on, not since I (finally) learned to tie my own shoe laces. I'm possibly the world's biggest fan of Velcro. Apart, perhaps, from the Swiss engineer who patented the easy-tie product.
A little research on a climbing website revealed that it's considered a "very safe knot to use when human life depends on it". No pressure, then. The knot finally mastered (cue huge sense of achievement), it was moment of truth time for Mike. "You're not going to go to the top are you?" he whispered nervously as I stepped forward.
First time up, he failed to use the laws of physics and power of friction to hold me. I can still see him now, turning grey, arms shaking under the strain.
By the end of the evening, and not a few ups and downs, all five rookies were signed off and declared fit for purpose.
I'll be seeking out a member of staff to ride shotgun before putting my new-found skills to the test. But funnily enough, I don't think I'll be seeing that much of Mike.
