It happened at an indoor wall for the sport of “bouldering”. I was standing watching some athletic young men conquer a tricky route that was beyond my abilities, half-listening to their banter, when I suddenly understood what they were discussing. A proposal to climb outdoors. They had never done it. They dreamed of it, but were uncertain how to go about it.
It’s not only rock-climbing that has this issue. Throughout the UK, there is fresh, unused kit sitting under beds, in lofts and in garden sheds, a testament to thwarted dreams. I am guilty myself. The fishing kayak that has never been wet hangs from the shed roof where I winched it on ratchet straps. I was apprehensive about using that impulsive lockdown purchase.
