The route
Bassiano is a limestone cliff about 60 km south-east of Rome, with a nice selection of single-pitch sport routes on pockets and tufa. Not world-class but definitely worthy. The sort of cliff residents in limestone-deprived areas would kill to have on their doorstep but locals take for granted. Pumpido is one of the more obvious lines. Once graded 7b+ (YDS 5.12c) it seems to have settled at 7b.
The context
In November 1996, I flew out to Rome to climb for three days. My frequent climbing partner, John Zangwill, had recently relocated there from London with his girlfriend - now wife - Pina. John (or "Z" as he was generally known) was the most enthusiastic of a group of north Londoners who I climbed with in the mid-90s. They were an older and more affluent crew then the climbers I had hung out with previously. They owned property, ate in proper restaurants during climbing weekends and had opinions on things like dishwashers. Despite these peculiar traits, they were strong climbers. Z, in particular, always out-climbed me.
Over the three days in Italy we climbed at three different cliffs. On the first day, Grotti, about 100km north of Rome. The rock was a weird conglomerate-limestone hybrid, similar to Margalef in Spain, with many small painful pockets. Grades appeared to start at 7b which made for a harsh warm-up. I achieved very little but recall Z coming close on a 7c.
The next day we visited Sperlonga by the sea about 100km south-west of Rome. Only 6's were climbed. The diary notes "v hot, topless girls sunbathing" - obviously challenging conditions.
The ascent
On the third day we went to Bassiano. I liked the cliff immediately. Friendly red-hued rock with obvious holds. I did some warm-ups then tried Pumpido, which looked like the best line on the cliff and at that time still held the (for me) magic 7b+ (5.12c) grade. I had come very close to sending two routes at that grade at Rifle in Colorado earlier that year so motivation was very high. I was able to reach the chains with a few hangs on my first try. The diary mentions "superb pumpy sequence of deadpoint crux between pockets, steep pockets to tufa, then very crimpy finishing moves". I managed the redpoint on my next attempt. I was quite pleased with myself, and managed not to draw the obvious conclusion: that the route was over-graded.
Subsequent ascents
I have not been back to Bassiano.
As a temporary local, John did of course return often. I recall that he was trying an 8a there and eventually succeeded. At that time, almost no-one I knew had climbed in the 8's. Furthermore, Z was well into his 40's. This made his achievement really inspiring. Then in my early 30s, I pessimistically believed that my best climbing years were already past. I filed Z's 8a send in my brain as an important reference and reason not to give up hope. In fact, it has stayed in my mind ever since, especially when I quit work to climb "full-time" six years ago.
Ironically a mutual friend recently told me that he did not think Z had ever climbed 8a. I was reluctant to believe this but in a way it no longer matters; whether myth or reality the idea has served its purpose.
And another thing ...
As I have got older, I have become increasingly impressed by people who have managed to combine climbing hard with high achievement in an unrelated area. To my mind, the outstanding example is Jim Collins. In the late 1970s he was one of the best climbers in the US, pushing standards with routes like Genesis and Psycho Roof in Eldorado canyon, and making the first solo of the Naked Edge. Mountain magazine published a sensational article about him around that time. These days he is better known as a pre-eminent management researcher and author, responsible for classic airport-bookshop titles like "Good to Great". However he has never stepped away from climbing and often references the sport in his writing. He even has a significant cameo role in Tommy Caldwell's autobiography The Push.
Amongst climbers I actually know, Z comes closest to Jim Collins status. I probably don't have the facts absolutely correct, but I believe his story runs something like this: studied maths to doctorate level at Cambridge and Bristol universities; shared a rope with some of the best British climbers of the 1970s and even had a route in Llanberis Pass named after him; briefly worked for BP where he spotted a niche opportunity in software for oil exploration; quit to found a start-up with one partner; twenty years later their firm's database product had become the global standard for well logging data (in other words, most of the oil industry depended on it); sold out to a much bigger firm in the late 1990s but remained engaged with his product rather than retiring. I am in awe of all of this.
 |
| Bassiano © unknown |
The context
In November 1996, I flew out to Rome to climb for three days. My frequent climbing partner, John Zangwill, had recently relocated there from London with his girlfriend - now wife - Pina. John (or "Z" as he was generally known) was the most enthusiastic of a group of north Londoners who I climbed with in the mid-90s. They were an older and more affluent crew then the climbers I had hung out with previously. They owned property, ate in proper restaurants during climbing weekends and had opinions on things like dishwashers. Despite these peculiar traits, they were strong climbers. Z, in particular, always out-climbed me.
Over the three days in Italy we climbed at three different cliffs. On the first day, Grotti, about 100km north of Rome. The rock was a weird conglomerate-limestone hybrid, similar to Margalef in Spain, with many small painful pockets. Grades appeared to start at 7b which made for a harsh warm-up. I achieved very little but recall Z coming close on a 7c.
The next day we visited Sperlonga by the sea about 100km south-west of Rome. Only 6's were climbed. The diary notes "v hot, topless girls sunbathing" - obviously challenging conditions.
 |
| Z, lunch stop somewhere near Rome |
 |
| Climbing above the beach at Sperlonga |
On the third day we went to Bassiano. I liked the cliff immediately. Friendly red-hued rock with obvious holds. I did some warm-ups then tried Pumpido, which looked like the best line on the cliff and at that time still held the (for me) magic 7b+ (5.12c) grade. I had come very close to sending two routes at that grade at Rifle in Colorado earlier that year so motivation was very high. I was able to reach the chains with a few hangs on my first try. The diary mentions "superb pumpy sequence of deadpoint crux between pockets, steep pockets to tufa, then very crimpy finishing moves". I managed the redpoint on my next attempt. I was quite pleased with myself, and managed not to draw the obvious conclusion: that the route was over-graded.
 |
| My ascent of Pumpido |
I have not been back to Bassiano.
As a temporary local, John did of course return often. I recall that he was trying an 8a there and eventually succeeded. At that time, almost no-one I knew had climbed in the 8's. Furthermore, Z was well into his 40's. This made his achievement really inspiring. Then in my early 30s, I pessimistically believed that my best climbing years were already past. I filed Z's 8a send in my brain as an important reference and reason not to give up hope. In fact, it has stayed in my mind ever since, especially when I quit work to climb "full-time" six years ago.
Ironically a mutual friend recently told me that he did not think Z had ever climbed 8a. I was reluctant to believe this but in a way it no longer matters; whether myth or reality the idea has served its purpose.
And another thing ...
As I have got older, I have become increasingly impressed by people who have managed to combine climbing hard with high achievement in an unrelated area. To my mind, the outstanding example is Jim Collins. In the late 1970s he was one of the best climbers in the US, pushing standards with routes like Genesis and Psycho Roof in Eldorado canyon, and making the first solo of the Naked Edge. Mountain magazine published a sensational article about him around that time. These days he is better known as a pre-eminent management researcher and author, responsible for classic airport-bookshop titles like "Good to Great". However he has never stepped away from climbing and often references the sport in his writing. He even has a significant cameo role in Tommy Caldwell's autobiography The Push.
Amongst climbers I actually know, Z comes closest to Jim Collins status. I probably don't have the facts absolutely correct, but I believe his story runs something like this: studied maths to doctorate level at Cambridge and Bristol universities; shared a rope with some of the best British climbers of the 1970s and even had a route in Llanberis Pass named after him; briefly worked for BP where he spotted a niche opportunity in software for oil exploration; quit to found a start-up with one partner; twenty years later their firm's database product had become the global standard for well logging data (in other words, most of the oil industry depended on it); sold out to a much bigger firm in the late 1990s but remained engaged with his product rather than retiring. I am in awe of all of this.
