Midgley John Christopher

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Biografie:
John Christopher Midgley 1943-1984
John's death on 17 May came as a tremendous shock to his many friends and the
sense of disbelief lingers still.
To those outside his immediate circle John could present a taciturn 'hard' man image but underneath a sometimes gruff exterior there was a warm, cheerful and caring nature. A good man to be with on the hill, he was an utterly dependable companion, and his huge mischievous grin, never far beneath the surface, would illuminate his face and bring joy to the occasion.
John was a Bradfordian by birth and he was educated at Carlton Grammar School. A civil engineer by profession, his training encouraged a logical approach to his chosen sport and he was one of the safest climbers I have known.
His introduction to rock climbing came in North Wales with his scout group at the age of IS. The challenge it presented fired his enthusiasm and subsequently in company with Terry ('Gnome') Burnell they sharpened their claws on the local gritstone crags before turning their attentions to the limestone walls of Malham. There they embarked on an epic siege of the Biven/Peck route on Central Wall, Malham Cove. It was probably the second ascent and for several weekends the Cove reverberated with the thud of Terry's famous 4lb lump hammer driving in the primitive bolts they largely used on the ascent. In 1962 they added Ivy Groove
to their list of achievements and followed with first ascents of Rebel and Darkness at Gordale, in company with Tom Morrell, the latter route ranking as an important contribution to the emergence of free climbing on limestone in that area.
The summer of 1962 saw them in the Dolomites, measuring their hard won skills on the walls of the Tre Cime, where a chance encounter with that gritstone guru, Dennis Gray, and Dez Hadlum, led later to them becoming members of the Rock and Ice Climbing Club.
I first met John one fine spring evening in 1964 during a weekend on Derbyshire gritstone. He was crouched over an enormous battered brew can, fiercely intent on producing a brew of the requisite quality. My attention was drawn initially by the rhythmic tapping of a spoon against the side of the can. The Rock and Ice took their brews almost as seriously as their climbing and this particular ritual was intended to rapidly settle the tea leaves to the bottom.
As luck would have it we were both short of a climbing partner for the Alps that year and, having struck up an acquaintanceship, I climbed with him regularly for some three years until I allowed the fruits of matrimony to curtail my climbing. So many memories crowd back of climbs together during those years. A marvelous summer day on Deer Bield Crag when, having done Dunmail Cracks and Deer Bield Crack in fine style, we embarked late in the evening on the Buttress itself. We were going well and it would have been great to complete a tally of three climbs but unfortunately a Yorkshire Mountaineering Club trio were heavily engaged in a minor epic on the second crux. After some deliberation on our chances, John's determination seeped away into the gathering darkness and we abseiled off to the accompaniment of occasional frantic shouts from above. Cheated of a major plum, John glowered right through the single pint we managed to get in before closing time. There is another occasion on record when John missed both a dinner and drinking time through sheer determination not to be beaten by a difficult move. Of course there are those who would regard such an occurrence as evidence of misdirected priorities.
Typical of his total absorption with a route was our ascent of Perhaps Not in White Ghyll, not long after I first met him. He was working up to the crux moves when a clatter of boulders from the Lower Crag gave warning of an accident. There was plenty of assistance to hand and in any event it was a difficult position to retreat from on a dubious peg, so John continued up the chimney. Flushed with success at the top he gave out a great victory whoop, totally forgetting the accident. I cringed into a tiny ball on the stance as a distant sea of upturned faces looked to the source of this unseemly behaviour. It must have done much to perpetuate John's 'hard' man image, however unjustifiably. Certainly the atmosphere at the Raw Head hut was somewhat constrained as we ate our evening meal and beat a hasty retreat to the pub, having learned that it had been a fatal accident.
John went on to do many hard routes, both in this couritry and in the Alps, the Dolomites and in America and Canada. He was always eager to climb in a new area. The experience thus gained taught him increasing guile which he put to good use on the N face of the Vignemale in the Pyrenees and greatly impressed his partner, Dave Stott. He had chatted up two Spaniards in the hut on details of the route and the following morning he kept behind them on the route although it was obvious to Dave that they could have passed them. All became clear half-way up on a fierce overhanging pitch, where étriers were brought into use. Dave was quickly pushed on to them before they could be retrieved - then they overtook the other team! John rounded off a fourteen hour day by persuading the hut guardian to prepare them a magnificent meal, long after the normal time.
John developed diabetes way back in 1971. He took this misfortune badly at the beginning but, true to form, his determination won through and he was able to come to terms with the constraints it imposed. It is a tribute to his success in overcoming these problems that they never manifested themselves to any extent on the hill. In fact he would often still be going strongly when others were showing signs of fatigue.
He was always prepared to use his considerable organisational talents in the service of climbing. For 18 years or so he arranged the Rock and Ice annual dinner with quiet efficiency. He was president of the Yorkshire Mountaineering Club and Chairman of the Club's Guidebook Sub-Committee and it was largely due to his drive and determination that the production of the new Yorkshire Limestone Guide Book has got off to such an excellent start. We are all indebted to him.
'Midge's' friendship and personal qualities will long be remembered with gratitude and affection, and his going leaves a sense of irreparable loss. It is fitting that his ashes now lie on Scafell Pike among the hills he loved so well.
Geoff Grandison
Quelle: Alpine Journal Volume 90, 1985, Seite 286-288


Geboren am:
1943
Gestorben am:
17.05.1984