English man in Font

Before arriving in Vancouver, everyone who’d been there told me how amazing it was. How it was a place that they’d only visited once but could easily move there given the opportunity. Well, I have to say that I was thoroughly unimpressed. Vancouver is basically just another city, fairly large, with a low population density (or so it seems from roaming the streets) and a huge amount of apartment blocks penetrating 30 stories into the sky (the two of which don’t go together in any sensible way). I’m not a fan of apartment blocks.

Drive north from central London for 45 minutes and you’ll be lucky to have left the clutches of the m25. Drive north from Vancouver for the same amount of time and before you stands the mighty granite dome of the The Chief. Around you are dense forests, rolling hills, and outcrops of rock in almost every direction. It’s pretty incredible and it certainly makes me realise why living in Vancouver would be most acceptable.

I’ve never been to Canada before and thus I’ve never been to Squamish, but arriving here felt like coming home. Being amongst the rocks feels so natural to me. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been climbing so long now that is genuinely feels natural to me (although those who witness me climbing might disagree) or perhaps it’s because I’m most comfortable in nature (once again – a surprise to some people who consider me a townie). Walking amongst the boulders, all memories of Maslow’s hierarchy or needs or derivatives pricing instantly vanishes. It’s as if I revert to some more basic human instant, that of running around a forest climbing rocks. It’s amazing how far away these two parts of my life are, climbing and business (school). Perhaps they’re not so distinct, but my social circles (in the sense of google+ circles) are absolutely mutually exclusive. I’ve just spent a year in London, in lectures, seminars, and the library, yet none of it felt as good as this. There were moments of which made me think “wow, that’s interesting” and moments which were exciting because I discovered the mechanism behind something previously mysterious, but none of it compares to feeling in control of your body as it glides over wonderful rock. The reason I went back to school was because I began to find climbing all the time somewhat unfulfilling. But having been away from climbing it now feels like the greatest thing ever. A case of the grass always being greener on the other side? I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. It’s about finding the balance and the correct ratio so that the grass is always greener as you flip flop between diametrically opposed parts of your life. Every flip (or flop) is better BECAUSE you’ve arrived from such a distant point on the scale.

The challenge of climbing is great again, and that is a very strong attraction for me. In fact, it’s greater than expected. I’m actually quite a punter now. Everything feels hard. It’s wonderful!

Some things don’t change though. Namely having woefully weak skin. Alex Savage was good enough to not only offer me a tour of the bouldering, but also loan Emily and I some pads, so on our first day we went out to find dry rock. We warmed up on a juggy roof (gibbs cave?) and then moved straight onto a v9 called Defenders of the Faith. 4 moves, crimps, power. I figured out the moves quickly, although this didn’t require a lot of brainpower, and then I tried to do it. I’d like to blame my old (but faithful) Anasazi velcro’s for not being precise or downturned enough, but I know this problem could probably be done in trainers. Five tries later I had my first split tip. My left index finger was bleeding and day 1 was over. Well, I thought it was over.

As we hung out at the campsite I saw a man bouncing impressively on the slack line. As soon as he jumped off, his unconscious hand movements gave him away. Toby Benham!!! Although now he is officially Lucky Chance, so I’ll stick with his new name from now. Lucky is the same as ever, all smiles, full of good energy, and keener than [insert the keenest thing you can thing of squared]. He immediately suggested that Emily and I go climbing with him and within 10 minutes we were hiking up to the base of the Apron. Lucky, Emily, and I arrived to find people on the route we wanted to do so we embraced the spirit of adventure and Lucky set off, meandering a way up the cliff taking in cool features and using no gear. 5 minutes and 50 metres later pitch 1 was done. Emily and I were seconding (and thirding?) up at the same time, half running and half climbing. I’d decided to do this easy first section in my trainers as they were soled in stealth anyway, but had my climbing shoes on my harness just in case. Pitches 2 and 3 went down in similar style, with lucky placing approximately 1 bit of gear per pitch. Still brave as ever. Soon enough we were at Memorial ledge, having done nothing harder than some 5.9 sections of slab climbing. I’d managed to stay in trainers the whole time, which was a relief as my feet are in huge amounts of pain at the moment. Not sure as to the cause but my arches are on fire, every step bringing quite a bit of pain. Anyway, the view from memorial ledge is absolutely amazing. I looked around, tried to soak it all up, closed my eyes and tried to etch it into my brain. Taking note of the Ocean coming in down below, the forested hills above, and the snow capped mountains above them. The valley unfurled northwards, with the highway meandering a path through it, and there is rock all around. Above us was more climbing, below us was climbing, and the same on both our left and right. It is an amazing vista. My cheeks probably got a little sore from the grin on my face.

From Memorial ledge toby led up Memorial Crack, a 5.9 or 5.10 single pitch layback crack. He placed a surprising 3 bits of gear and Emily and I both followed him up. It felt great to reach the top of the Apron, but looking up only made us all realise we were on the kids stuff. There were many more pitches to go towards the top of the chief. The sun was beginning to drop behind the mountains and so that adventure would have to wait for another day, but it felt absolutely amazing to be stood up there watching the world go by. I’d managed to stay in my trainers all afternoon, had a genuinely fun time, and stood looking out over the valley with jaw agape at not only how much there was to do but at how good it all was too.

Day 1 had offered me a 4 move boulder problem and 4 pitches of adventurous trad. Amazing. Very amazing. Squamish is an incredible place. After our first day here I am already feeling sad about our departure in 12 days time.

The West Coast Trail. Six days of hiking, with a heavy rucsac, doesn’t sound like fun. But what if there was a wonderful crag at the end, perfect sandstone walls with perfect gear placements, just waiting for your hands to delicately fondle their way up? The walk would definitely be bearable in that case. But what if there was nothing at the end. What if the 6 day hike was the reward, not the suffering you had to endure for some other lofty goal? That changes everything. That was my feeling about the West Coast Trail before setting off. It was a 6 day hike with no purpose. Emily was really excited about it and I knew doing it with her would be fun (and probably testing), so I was up for doing it. It was a case of doing something I wouldn’t normally entertain.

On day 1 we saw a bear and cub, sealions, bald eagles, red squirrels, martins, sea otters, snakes, and others which I am inevitably forgetting. Pretty impressive. I could write a whole lot about the trail, about why it’s great and why it’s sometimes boring. I will probably write an overly long update in the next week or two, with more info on the trail in case you’re thinking of doing it. For now, I’ll sum it up as succinctly as possible and furnish you with a semi random collection of pics. The West Coast Trail was one of the best non climbing things I’ve done in a long time. I think that says enough.

After a 2 hour delay, I was happy to be boarding the plane. I shouldn’t have been. We taxied out and then came back to port due to some problem with the plane. Whilst the engineers worked on the plane we were told to sit tight. Easily done when the seat in front is 12 inches away and the armrests are crushing your hips. I can’t imagine what it must be like to fly if you’re on the portly side. Anyway, over an hour of sitting around eventually gave way to a shaky take off. I was hoping for smooth sailing after that. However, it turns out that Thomas Cook are crooks. When you book a flight from London Gatwick to Vancouver and it’s direct, you expect to go direct. Well, turns out some people have a different definition of direct. Needless to say my lawyer will be writing them a stern letter and I’ll be aiming to get back the cost of the flight. We sat in Edmonton for over an hour whilst the plane refueled. We weren’t allowed to get off. Why? Because we were flying direct. Sure.

The next leg was a little better, all because of the wonderful views. I’ll leave you with these uninspired pictures of a truly inspiring range of mountains… The Rockies.

Next stop is Vancouver Island for a stroll along the West Coast Trail. Updates will be in a week.

So it begins again. It’s amazing how a year can pass quite so quickly, especially when it involves early mornings, accounting lectures, and driving between two homes every week. But sure enough, my life at London Business School is over. I’d hoped to keep a blog detailing the experience, the highs and lows of business school, from sordid staff affairs to cutting edge seminar discussions, but unfortunately I was lazy and none of that stuff ever happened. I will be writing my thoughts on business school and in particular LBS once I have graduated and have that oh so valuable piece of paper in my hands.

To mark the revival of the blog I will share with you a snippet of a conversation that took place just yesterday, which most readers should understand as a seismic shift in my current state of play;

Protagonist walks into a barbershop, sits down to wait his turn. He stares in the mirror, looks deep within himself, and the decision is made.
“Hi mate, how you doing?”
“I’m fine thanks, and yourself?”
“Good man, good. So, what can I do for you today? Just a tidy up, or something else entirely?”
“Short on the sides, longer at the back, and take some length off the top. You know, a Mullet”
“Sound mate”

Several weeks ago, when I was deciding upon a celebration plan for termination, sorry, completion of my Masters I faced 2 very good choices. They were somewhat distinct too, each having a number of facets which shouted “pick me”. The first option was to fly south to South Africa, discovering Rocklands for the first time, and spending 4 weeks bouldering in an area I’d wanted to go to for at least 6 years. It was a strong candidate. But so was option 2. Fly West to Vancouver, Canada, and have 4 weeks of… of…. Well, this is where the two paths diverge. In Canada I would be able to go hiking, biking, trad climbing, sport climbing, bouldering, and see an amazing city or two. I did spend quite a while flip flopping between the two choices and it forced me to ask myself some rather tough questions. The biggest of these was “Am I still a real climber?”. If I had been given this choice 3 years ago I think I would have plumped for SA in a heartbeat. Or would I? I know what I like in a climbing venue and peace, tranquillity, and beauty are all essential. That’s why I love places like Brione. The other thing which weighed heavily on my mind was my condition. I’m not in good shape, as anyone who has seen me climb recently can testify to. What would it be like to go to Rocklands and be a punter for 4 weeks? Frustrating. Well, it would be amazing too, but it would ultimately be hard for me to look at a hold and hear my mind telling me jug and my body telling me impossible. Then I began to understand what the choice was about and it was then that I arrived at an instant decision. Rocklands would be full of climbers, bristling with pads, with talk of sick moves and displays of heroic strength. Canada would be devoid of all that. Canada would be an adventure. I would be going further out of my comfort zone, experiencing new sensations and this resonated deep within me.

I realised I was seeking adventure, not another hard bloc. Does that mean I’ve changed? I don’t know. I like climbing hard because it’s hard and because I like climbing. I’ve yet to find something else which feels as good as climbing. But I think I am beginning to see it in a more holistic vision. Climbing is a part of me but it doesn’t need to dominate everything. That’s why I am sat here at Gatwick South terminal staring at a departure board which says “Vancouver – Delayed 2 hours”.

My decision revolved around wanting climbing to be part of a greater adventure. Climbing every day and doing nothing else is cool, I’ve been there and done that. But now I’m in a different place. If I can go downhill biking in Whistler one day, trad climbing the day after, bouldering the day after, and then swimming in a river the day after that then I’m going to be chuffed to bits. I am looking forward to that variety. I’m looking forward to seeing a rugged landscape, to not having as close an encounter with a bear as I did last time I was in North America, and to just being able to be a bit wild (in the sense of wilderness).

This question of am I still a real climber does plague me a bit. I suppose it’s a stupid question to ask in some ways, in many ways, but it does make me wonder about what I am still willing to give to climbing and what I want out of it. I do want to climb hard things. Really hard things. But do I want them more than anything else in the world? I don’t think so, not anymore.

When I get back from Canada I’m going straight into the world of work, in a sphere so far removed from anything that has come before. I’m excited about that. It’s a new challenge. And if there’s one thing I can be sure of, it’s the fact that I love a challenge. So the next 4 weeks will be my last taste of freedom, of wilderness, and of adventure for a little while. Oddly enough, the real challenge will begin when I get back. Have I finally understood what a holiday is for? Or worse, have I finally reached the point where I need a holiday?

I started writing this post a few weeks ago, but one spreadsheet led to another and before I knew it I had forgotten about this and failed to post anything. But now I’m going to wrap up my thoughts on a few recent matters and hopefully put it all into perspective.

I’ve spent the last few days reflecting on everything that happened during my brief fling with the recruitment process, thinking about what it really means and the implications on what I want to do. I’m very much a goal based person. I set a goal and then I go about achieving it. Sometimes it’s possible to become blinded by the goal and the whole purpose of your quest is lost. That’s what I’ve been thinking recently.

I decided I wanted to do consulting because it appeared genuinely interesting. A lot of the aspects of the job seemed like they would be enjoyable and give me a really good grounding across many core business areas. One thing definitely wasn’t true, that consulting was the ONLY option for me. Far from it. It seemed to be one of many interesting opportunities. My mind is constantly piqued by stories from a wide variety of fields. I don’t really consider myself geared towards or focused on a particular job, which makes it so odd that I was really quite gutted about not getting into McK or Bain. In fact, I’m beginning to think that the people I work with are more important than the work I’m going to actually do (although I’m not totally convinced whether this is a case of equal or more).

The more I learn, the more I realise that there are a plethora of interesting opportunities out there. I’m basically intrigued and drawn towards anything that I don’t understand, from finance to carpentry to nutrition. I don’t know why, I just relish the prospect of broadening my horizons. I guess in an ideal world I would know everything about everything, but since time is finite I’ll just have to be satisfied with knowing something about everything, and everything about something.

So all of this begs the question as to why my vision became so narrow? Perhaps it’s because they are the top 2 companies and getting in to them would have given me some sort of smug feeling like “I made it”. It’s totally ridiculous though, and I am surprised I fell into that trap. Luckily for me, many people around me are smarter than me and know me well enough to give solid advice. When I was in the midst of interviews my friends were saying things along the lines of “aren’t you too creative for this?” and “are you sure this is really you?”.  I answered in a way that was possibly too headstrong, probably trying to convince myself just as much as I wanted to convince them. The truth is that it COULD have been for me. I think I would have found it interesting and enjoyable work. But now that I look back I’m beginning to see it as a near miss, a close shave.

Now I’m on the hunt for something more creative, more innovative, more akin to who I am. Instead of trying to fit a mould I’m going to do what I’ve always done and let life take its natural course, knowing that I’m going to end up doing something rad. It’s so easy to get caught up in the rat race, to think you need to be in with some company in order to have value, but the truth is a million miles away. I’m passionate, honest, and inquisitive. I like to face problems, I like to overcome goals, and I’m going to find something to do which encapsulates all of these things. I’m not looking for a job. I’m looking for a way to channel my passion.

Addendum; I just wanted to clear something up. In my previous post I wrote “I have been measured up and I fell short”. What I intended to write, to convey the full meaning behind my thinking, was “I have been measured up and I fell short by someone else’s standards“. I didn’t mean that I suddenly felt like my worth was any less. Not by any means. I’m sure most of you know me well enough to know that I’m confident (not arrogant!) enough to know I’m a total ripper!

The chips have fallen, the outcome has been decided. I posted a few weeks ago about my job hunting and interview experience. I wrote that I was close to a Disney like ending. I had put all my chips into two baskets and I was genuinely hopeful for it all to work out. I’ve never really been keen on the idea of working, but these jobs somehow instilled that motivation into me, which meant that I was making the right decisions and moving in the right direction.

After each of my final round interviews, I wrote down my thoughts before hearing from them. I thought that was the best way to be impartial. I wasn’t going to be influenced by hindsight. This is part of what I wrote after my interview with Bain;

Overall, I think I did ok. I didn’t do amazingly. I didn’t crush the interviews and I could have done better. But these are interviews, and it’s rare to reach your true maximum potential in an interview. I can say that I had fun. I enjoyed all of the cases. In the second case when everything was going wrong I was still having fun. I enjoy these cases, this way of thinking, so whatever happens I definitely think I’ve found a vocation in which I would be really happy.

I came down off the mountain and I walked into this world of work with nothing more than a passion. I’m a passionate person, and when I want something I chase it fearlessly. I’m not afraid of giving everything to something, and I’ll deal with the outcome as and when I need to. I try hard. I’ve always tried hard. If I get this job then I’m convinced it’s a combination of who I am and what climbing has taught me. Climbing has been my love. It really has. I gave it everything. But beyond all of this I’ve always followed my heart. I think people know that. I don’t do things because I should, or even because I need to. I do things because they are the things I love. I was crazy to drop out of UCL and go climbing. Genuinely crazy. But I followed my passion. For better or for worse. Many times I have written the quote I once heard  “look after what you love, and what you love will look after you”.

The outcome was negative. I didn’t get the job offer, and to be honest I was totally gutted. I wanted it so much. Some might say too much, but I don’t know if I would agree. I had found a job I’d like to do, I’d met people who I’d liked to have worked with, and I felt like the challenge of it would be so rewarding. So yeah, I was gutted. Dealing with failure is a really interesting process, but more on that later.

So the McKinsey interview rolled around and it was something very different. A few excerpts from what I wrote a couple of hours after the interview probably give you an idea of what it was like;

Having just had my interviews this morning I am now sitting at a crossroad. A huge one. I do know one thing thought and I trust it immensely. Trust that whatever happens it’s all for the best. This attitude is one which puts you in a good place no matter what happens and allows you to make the best whatever/wherever you may come across. I’ve tried to live by that.

Starting at 7am was a big ask as I’m not usually very sharp in the morning. It takes me some time to wake up, but I think the adrenalin spike this morning was far more effective than the coffee or croissant. Trying to explain my life to a 50 something Partner at McKinsey wasn’t easy. With age comes experience and with experience comes a lot of hindsight and understanding. How they view my life is quite fascinating to me. I think it’s clear that I’m driven, or as he put it “mildly obsessed”, but what to make of the disparate pieces of my life. I feel like I have interests from all over the field, ranging from small boulders in Switzerland to the process of reducing the size of die’s in CPU production. I’m a climber and a nerd. I love solving problems and I was hoping I would be able to get that across.

I think I made a number of errors in my cases. I missed some obvious insights and the insights I did make were painfully slow. That’s also annoying because I think I should have done better. That’s the mildly obsessive coming out I suppose. I always think I could have done it better. I could have prepared in a different way, I could have thought about it from a different angle, there are many “could have’s” . I did learn a huge amount. That was good for my brain because I like learning insightful things, but bad for my interview because I should have known them already!

Being rational and thinking I wasn’t good enough doesn’t mean I don’t hold out any hope. I have a huge amount of hope. Perhaps they saw a spark, something that indicated I could actually be very good at this consultancy lark. I am trying to stay positive. What I have definitely done is made peace with the process. Last week when I got rejected by Bain I was really dejected. I felt really disappointed. I think I put so much pressure on myself, which with hindsight I would class as unnecessary pressure. Pressure is good, it creates diamonds, but trusting in life’s processes is how I’ve always lived. I’ve always landed on my feet and I don’t know how or why. I just know that everything has always worked out. When the rejection from bain arrived I thought I hadn’t landed on my feet. I thought I’d been punched to the floor. But I was wrong. VERY wrong. It’s not a knock back, it’s an opportunity to take a different path. This might sound like some very desperate “I’m clutching at straws” point of view, but it’s one which I’m cool with.

Now, whilst I’m sitting here waiting for the result of today’s interviews, I’m cool. That’s a big change from last week. I trust myself again. I trust my ability. I think I was too desperate for validation in my Bain interview. Desperate for someone else to tell me I was “good enough”. Truth be told, I am good enough. I am arrogant/confident enough to say that. If I don’t land this job with McKinsey, my world won’t end, not at all. I’ve learned so much from this process and that’s with me forever. When I look back on my life I see big shifts, big shifts which I couldn’t have predicted. Those shifts are the natural rhythm of life’s plan. I know I’m going to end up doing something cool. I know that because I won’t settle for not doing something cool. If that’s at McKinsey, great. If not, it will surely only be another kind of great.

Unfortunately McKinsey came back to me today with a negative response. I had an interesting chat on the phone with Hugh Harper and I got the impression that they thought I could probably do the job at McKinsey, but they weren’t 100% certain, and they weren’t certain because of my academic record. It’s a tough break, but it’s one I can understand.  I have a 2:2 from open university. Had I been exactly the same but had a first from Oxford, I’m under no illusion that I would have got the job. I would have been able to show a track record of being smart. The thing is, I know I’m smart enough, so it’s all about proving it from here on out. Re-applying was most definitely not out of the question and Hugh sounded quite positive about it, so if I really want this then I need to crush my Masters, get a GMAT of 750, then seal the deal. It’s not out of the question. And this leads me on to what I mentioned up top, about how people deal with failure.If you’re a long time reader of this blog you probably have a good idea about how I deal with failure. I learn. I digest. I improve. Failure makes me stronger.

But how do you deal with failure when you only have 1 chance? It’s fascinating. In climbing, you can go away, train harder, focus more, and come back to crush your project. With a job interview you can’t do that. I have been measured up, and I fell short. What can I do now? Well, I can go away and train harder, I can sharpen up, get a track record of being smart on paper, and come back to all of this. Is that what I want? This is the burning question. I enjoy problems. I love challenges. I like to have my mind sharpened and honed by complex ideas. This is no secret. I love being tested because it’s only when you’re pushed to your limits that you realise just how far away your limits really lie. I came down from the Mountains because I found something else I genuinely wanted to do. Getting knocked back hasn’t made me want it less… if only it had! It has made me want it more. I don’t really know how I’m going to get there, or where “there” is, but I’ve once again got an unknown path in front of me and I’m starting the process of taking the steps into the unknown.

December saw a bit of snowfall in the UK and this resulted in some major trauma. I watched cars being abandoned in the middle of the M5, multiple lorries jacknifed across the M42, and many other cars stranded on verges. Having winter tyres on my car (a legal requirement in Austria – and hopefully a future common sense strategy for the UK) made travelling around fairly trivial for Emily and I, although the real danger turned out to be other cars and not the road conditions!

It seems that royal mail did not have winter tyres fitted to their vehicles. In fact, it seems that with the snowfall came a sort of temporary blindness. I don’t know enough about the postal system to be able to tell exactly why it all went so badly wrong, but I do know that it went wrong. I have had at least 20 DVD’s go missing in December which is a major pain, as the in-stock pile is pretty much at an end.

If you were one of the people to order Between the Trees, L’Etranger, or even request the SSRT film on a DVD, and you still haven’t received it then please send me an email so I can resend your order! All orders were despatched promptly, so any delay in your enjoyment is either due to Royal Mail or your local postal operator.

Thanks for your patience. Don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things.

It’s been a long time since I last clicked that publish button, but in the interim the landscape has shifted revealing many new challenges which have been keeping me occupied. I had written several blog entries, dating back to July/August 2010, but I felt like they weren’t fit for publishing. Not because I have raised my editorial standards, I haven’t, but because I felt like they were all describing a micro part of the puzzle and I wanted to be describing the macro level view.

It’s easy to say that with hindsight, but at the time I didn’t know why I was unable to click publish. I just knew that it wasn’t what I wanted to do. But now, I feel like it’s time to come clean. If you want the abridged version, scroll to the bottom, otherwise get comfortable.

2010 was a big transition year for me. Much changed. I was able to share the passion I had for Fontainebleau with many people thanks to Tyler’s dizzying performance, but I was also left at a loose end after that. I’d like to say I went soul searching, on a dizzying journey of mescal fuelled discovery through a great desert, meeting a shaman who spoke to me without words, and his breath pushed me down a path of unknowable new challenges, but that would be taking whatever artistic license I have a step too far. In reality, what happened was a discussion with self about where I wanted to be going and if I was doing everything I could to get there. The answer was that I didn’t know where I wanted to be going, which made the action plan somewhat intangible. What did I want to do? I knew that I wanted a challenge. I just had to find it.

Climbing is exceptionally special to me. It has provided me with my life for many years now. It has given me the greatest joy and the greatest frustration. It has taught me a hell of a lot and in many ways it was the fire that tempered a range of skills. But it wasn’t everything. It never was. I always said that climbing was replaceable. If some wizard had offered me a swap, so that I could be as good at climbing (in relative terms) but in another sport, I would have considered a swap. I’m not saying I definitely would have taken it, but the fact I would consider it is enough to make my point. It was with this mindset that I took up the search for a new challenge.

I never liked the idea of a job. You have to go to an office everyday where you have to do what is inevitably a small part of a not very interesting problem. I had never spoken to anyone who I thought did a genuinely interesting job. Apart from 1 guy I met briefly many years ago. He (roughly) described his job as “I work with CEO’s to come up with innovative/optimal solutions to real world problems ”. It was only a 5 minute conversation but one which was put on the back burner and has simmered away ever since. Since it was the only job I had ever entertained as remotely interesting I decided to look into it. What did he do you might be wondering? He was a strategy consultant for one of the world’s top firms.

I began my search for such a job. Immediately I hit a wall. A huge wall. It turned out someone who has simply climbed for several years, who graduated with a 2:2 in Maths and Economics from Open University, wasn’t exactly at the top of the pile. In fact, I didn’t even get on to the pile as I didn’t meet the minimum entry requirements. So, I was looking for a challenge and the first step in the search had revealed a pretty massive one. I knew no one in the industry. I had no contacts. I figured the only way to get on the radar to a company like this was to head back to Uni, do my Master’s at a reputable institute, and then try to spot an angle of attack.

Now I began the search for a Uni. I decided an MBA might be quite useful, so went directly to the FT Business School rankings. I was surprised to find an English University at the number 1 spot and was further surprised to see it was one I’d never heard of; London Business School. I clicked through, read a bunch of spiel, and realised I was seriously under qualified. Under qualified to get qualified! Damn it! I looked through more options, some of which were more accessible, but I wanted to go to LBS now. I wanted to go to the best school, not the 19^th best. More research revealed another Master’s course at LBS which seemed to fit my particular case quite well. Essentially it was a 1 year MBA, with the modules very similar to an MBA but tailored to people without the business experience; The Masters in Management. Then I saw another wall.

This time I not only had to be a successful application out of an exceptionally competitive pool, but I had to first do a GMAT test, which I’d never heard of. The research began again, followed by a brief stint of revision and a few weeks later I sat the test. My score was very much below what I had aimed for, but 680 was the same as the average of the previous year’s class so it gave me a chance. Then came the application. Many, many questions which forced me to look back at what the hell I’d been doing with my life. It was a bit like a “this is your life” where I was assessing if anything I had done showed any of the ridiculously long list of traits they were looking for. How could I spin it? I had simply chased my passion for climbing over several years. I did what I loved. I tried to put it as plainly as I could, communicating the passion that I have always felt for climbing, and following an interview in July I was offered a place on the course! The first step along a new journey had been taken.

In September I moved to London and began life as a graduate student. The course began, and the very first week was spent writing my CV. This was a pretty hilarious moment for me. I was next to my peers, who had graduated from top universities across the world, who had internships every summer with the top firms, and all I had was my name, email address, and a few lines about climbing. I’m probably quite lucky as I don’t get bogged down by such things, I just find it rather funny. With the help of career services, the assistance of several MBA students, and more hindsight I ended up with a CV that put my story into a neat framework. It was at this point that I realised there was another wall which I hadn’t accounted for.

The milkround began, with many companies coming to campus or inviting us to their offices. But it seemed like about 70% of the 141 people on the course wanted to be doing the same job as me! For every place that was offered I was competing with 80 people from my own course, not to mention the hundreds, nay, thousands from all of the other top universities! At one event a recruiter told me that they receive 15000 applicants for about 45 jobs. I might play a bit of poker, but I’m not a gambler, and those odds weren’t exactly stacked in my favour.

It was at this point that I began to assess things a little differently, and hoped that someone else might buy into my new perspective. I wasn’t the smartest, the most international, the most experienced, but I was the most individual. No one had a story like mine, and for some reason I thought this might work for me. The recruitment process was a sycophantic process of CV and cover letter pushing. I didn’t really like the way it went, but that’s a totally different story which I’ll spin later, and I soon found myself trying not to sell myself in any way, but simply trying to tell people about who I am. Either they were interested in me or they weren’t. I didn’t want to trick them or put some spin on it that would make them like me. I wanted to work for a company that could genuinely see value in who I was and what I’d done. Unfortunately this hope led to many rejections. I put in about 15 applications to nearly all of the top firms. I received rejection after rejection. But my hopes were really pinned on 2+1 of the firms (2 serious hopes, 1 hope). I had met people from those firms and spoken to them not as a student desperate for a job, but as another human being who was interested in what they had to say and they turned out to be intrigued by my peculiar story. I didn’t take the whole thing as seriously as many of my colleagues. I approached it in my own way, which I knew was a big gamble. It would either work as a huge advantage or a similarly huge free-fall. Of my 3 real hopes for a job, 2 showed an interest and 1 showed me the door. I have no doubt that the reason the 2 who offered me an interview were also the 2 companies who had spent the most time with me, who had heard my story from start to finish. I also don’t think it’s any surprise that the bulk of my rejections came from companies who I’d never met. On paper there is no colour to who I am. In person I’m able to convey the passion I’ve had for what I’ve done and for what I love to do. It just goes to show the ridiculousness of recruiting and I don’t envy the people who have to go through thousands of CV’s trying to determine a person’s value from a 1 page synopsis of their life. Once again, another story entirely…

Then came another test, followed by a first round of interviews. The two companies who had offered me interviews were McKinsey and Bain, surprisingly the number 1 and 2 strategy consulting firms in the world. The interviews were billed as being super serious, super hard, and without months of preparation you didn’t stand a chance. I had never been to a formal job interview before, so I definitely felt like I was in at the deep end. I did some research, found of what was going to happen, and even did a handful of practice business cases, which form the bulk of interviews at these firms. I did start off quite badly, because I wasn’t able to get my ideas across in a logical enough order. I could get to the answer, but I didn’t get there by a path that was obviously logical to someone outside of my brain (inside of which everything is always logical! – ha ha). I did get better in the course of this practice, that’s for sure, but I wasn’t getting smarter. Perhaps it was just a case of getting more savvy. The day before my first interview I was getting a bit apprehensive – I just didn’t want to screw this quite big opportunity up. It was then that Emily gave me some sage advice; “Just be yourself. Show them your true colours and you’ll be fine”. This seemingly obvious advice really put me at ease. It lightened my load by reminding me that I have nothing to prove, only myself to share.

The first interview of my life rolled around and I turned up at the McKinsey office in central London, not feeling overly nervous but definitely a little excited. I just wanted to give it my best shot. You only have one opportunity in an interview, one shot, kind of like trying to solo a route to be honest. I just wanted to effectively show who I was and what I was good at. If that didn’t cut the mustard then so be it, but I didn’t want to be judged on a sub par performance. That would have hurt a lot more than getting rejected after showing my best.

The interview was a cool experience. I talked a lot about climbing. In fact, every time they asked me a question I told them a climbing story. When it came to the business case I thought I’d done alright. I hadn’t done exceptionally, but I’d reached an answer and done it with a decent level of structure. Most importantly though, I never became flustered. When I didn’t know or understand something I said that. I vocalised my thoughts. The interviews that day both went well, although I felt like the second interviewer was much more stern in his approach, but perhaps that is part of the process. I left feeling pretty good. It wasn’t anywhere near as heavy or as serious as I’d been led to believe. This was quite a weight off my shoulders, and it certainly left me feeling a bit lighter for the following day’s interview at Bain. Once again, 2 interviews, back to back. The first was generally fine, with me once again talking a lot about climbing. The second interview continued the climbing theme, with me actually explaining to the interviewer how a small adjustment in the angle of your wrist can result in a drastic difference in the movement of your body. Ridiculous, I know. But I was just going with the flow. Then came the business case. It was way, way, way out of left field. It was pretty much unlike anything I’d seen before, and this put a big smile on my face. I spent the next 30 minutes confused, smiling, laughing, enquiring, closing my eyes to imagine scenario’s, and eventually reached an answer. The interviewer was really nice, and when I finally spat out of the answer he seemed to be really chuffed. Like we’d sort of got there together, which was cool. I left feeling great, having had a lot of fun, but not so sure whether fun was a good measure of success in a serious job interview.

This brings me up to now. Congratulations reader, you have managed to read 6 months of my life in one sitting! I went into the Christmas holidays psyched for a return to climbing. I even went truly mental and went out on the grit for a wonderful day. It felt so good to be back in the peak, to look out of the gently rolling snow covered hills, and I’m not afraid to say that it felt like home. I didn’t climb very well at all, but it felt so good to be out that it almost didn’t matter. ALMOST. I left determined to be more effective with my time management so I can squeeze in some more climbing sessions a week in order to try and regain some shape and perhaps finish off some long lost goals.

I did hear back regarding my interviews at McKinsey and Bain, and somewhat unbelievably they both offered me final round interviews. Perhaps spending your life climbing and doing what you love isn’t such a bad entry point after all. I’ve got my final round interviews in the next couple of weeks and the story could come to a Disney-like ending or it could come crashing down like the Berlin wall. I don’t know which way it will go, and that’s kind of why I wanted to get this post out now. I didn’t want to write this in a couple of weeks when I had either succeeded or failed. I wanted to write it before the conclusion, with the hope that it more accurately reflects the true colours of what I’ve been through. Whatever happens, it’s been a very interesting journey that has given me many new challenges and I’ve enjoyed them all.

The silence on the blog has been a bit of a sad thing for me and my intention was to start a separate blog about my whole business school experience. I am who I am, which was one of the reasons I didn’t start a separate blog. I am a climber. But I am also many other things. Do I need my blog to be solely about climbing as I have written before, or do I want it to be reflect me? I don’t know. I guess we’ll wait and see. For now, this blog is definitely alive.

Abridged version; I needed a new challenge. I tried to find an interesting job. It turned out to be more complicated than I thought. I went back to Uni. Now I’m close to a job. It’s been fun. I still love climbing.

Last year, James Pearson, Gaz Parry, and I set out on what we thought would be a jolly around Europe. We?d soak up the sun, work the tan, do some amazing 8a routes, and film the whole thing. Our expectations couldn?t have been further from reality. The reality was that we had 100 days? worth of adventure crammed into an itinerary of only 40. We expected to have fun but in the end we had an experience that was so much more than just fun, it was incredible.

Our journey took us all over Europe, from Scandinavia to Spain to Slovenia. Many destinations were known quantities but many were not. It was those unexpected discoveries that made this trip so worthwhile. Arriving in the middle of the night only to wake up and see an incredible landscape of seemingly endless rock in the morning was like a reoccurring dream! The nightmare only began when we had to leave and drive ever onward.

The film is a whole medley of different styles. It?s an eye opening tour of what Europe has on offer and I am certain there are places which you will have never seen. Further, I expect when you see just how amazing these places are you may well reconsider your annual migration south to clip bolts in Spain. Why follow the well-trodden path when you can create fresh footprints in another area full of wonderful climbing?

This film isn?t about watching some super strong dudes crushing some mega hard routes. In fact, it?s a million miles away from that. It?s a compendium of how great Europe is, what makes it so special, and I hope it shows how much fun we had whilst revealing just how close to breaking point we came. I doubt there has been a film which has featured such a wide array of climbing and I think this makes it a little bit special. It?s like ordering a sampler at your favourite restaurant. You get a little bit of everything and then next time you can go back and dine with the one you enjoyed the most. I hope you enjoy seeing what?s on offer out there and next time you have a week or two for a climbing trip you consider leaving the polish behind and seeking out a new adventure. As cheesy as The North Face motto may be (can I say that?), it?s firmly planted in truth. Never stop exploring.

Head on over to the Products Page to get your download on.

Some of the elephant brained individuals who read this blog may well remember that last year I went on a trip with James and Gaz, dubbed the Summit Series Road Trip. It was a very memorable trip for me in many respects and I have nothing but fond memories. Yes, it was very hard work at points and I spent many nights blogging or editing away, but the end result was totally worth it.

The original reason I bought a video camera many years ago was because I wanted to document the adventures I was having. I didn’t want the memories to fade away and becomes all bokeh. When I re-watch the bits and pieces I’ve filmed, I always smile. For me it’s a window into a past moment, a glimpse at myself and my friends from a time that no longer exists. The footage might not be amazing, or perfectly framed, but it is a true representation of what was going on. It feels good to watch it. Maybe I don’t have a very good memory (ok, definitely!) but when I remember past events I remember what took place, but not how it felt. When I watch the footage back I am transported to those moments and the emotion that I felt kind of creeps back into my body. I really like that.

I am telling you this because I’ve just been watching the footage from the Summit Series Road Trip and I find myself bursting out laughing over and over again. In my day to day life I don’t think about how amazing the sandstone of The Czech Republic was, but when I see the footage I can see how amazing it is! When I see James pulling his strawberry face I instantly crack up. These are the small things that bring me joy when I relive old times and sometimes that’s all there is. However, with the SSRT film there is something else. The whole film does something more than just provide me with snippets of fun memories. It has grown into a sort of compendium of European sport climbing. Whilst we didn’t visit every crag or even every country in Europe, we did cover a HUGE variety of destinations. Through 14 different countries in 40 days, we climbed on Limestone, Granite, Sandstone, and Conglomerate! In 48 hours we went from top’s off sunbathing in Spain to trekking through waist deep snow alongside a frozen lake in Switzerland.

It was an exceptional trip and it opened my eyes to just what is out there in Europe. Climbers tend to go to places they know, or places that can guarantee sunshine, but this is becoming increasingly sterile in my opinion. The multitudes of boulderers who flock to Magic Wood in the summer because that’s what everyone else does, instead of asking themselves if there could be a better summer destination… (yes, there is). The swathes of sport climbers who migrate to Spain to clip bolts for a week alongside the hundreds of other Brits… These things certainly fall under the banner of going climbing, but are they really that fun? Where is the adventure? You could get a cheap flight to the North of Italy and cross the border into Slovenia and explore the amazing crags they have there. New crags are constantly being found and developed by many people.

I realise that getting information about foreign crags is sometimes hard to come by, but this shouldn’t be an excuse, simply a challenge. But seeking topo’s is a second tier problem. The first is that of knowledge. You can’t go to somewhere that you don’t know exists. Finding out about new destinations can often be the most difficult thing to do. How do you search for something when you don’t know what is you’re searching for? That’s why I think the SSRT film is a great platform for exploring what’s on offer. It will hopefully allow you to see some of those less explored areas and I’m sure you’ll be as amazed as we were by what we came across.

This is a list of areas we stopped at on our tour, some of which I’m sure will be totally new to you!

UK – Lulworth Cove – Adrenechrome 8a
UK – Malham Cove – Raindogs 8a
Sweden – Hylteberget – Abstrakt 8a
Belgium – Freyr – God Save the Queen 8a
Spain – Baltzola – Black Kongi 8a+
Spain – Baltzola – Illuminatis 8a
Spain – Margalef – Sativa Patatica 8a
France – Gorge du Tarn – Barbarattique 8a
France – Buoux – Reve du Papillon 8a
Switzerland – Voralpsee – Alaska Kid 8a
Germany – Pfalz – Magnetfinger 7c/+
Germany – Frankenjura – Slimline 8a/+
Poland – Sokoliki – Hrabia Drapula 8a
The Czech Republic – Dolni Zleb – Skruti Beh 8a
Austria – Schleirwasserfall – Have fun on top 8a
Austria – Bachhexe – Electric Avenue 8a
Slovenia – Misja Pec – Blood, Sugar, Sex, Magic 8a
Italy – Arco – Gameboy 8a
Italy – Val di Mello – Slot Machine 8a

The film is ready to go, I just need to tie up a few loose ends and it will be let loose so keep an eye out on the blog. If even one person gets psyched to check out one of the more esoteric areas then I’ll be happy as a “filmmaker”! That would be an excellent goal to have achieved.