4 days ago
Sir Chris Bonington: ‘I was inconsolable when I found out my son had died'
Born in London, Sir Chris Bonington was raised by his mum and grandmother after his father left the family. He has climbed or led 19 expeditions to the world's most challenging peaks, including four to Mount Everest. He's written 20 books about his adventures, including losing his close friend Mick Burke on Everest in 1975. He was knighted in 1996. Conrad, his first-born son with wife Wendy, died age three; he went on to have two more sons with Wendy – Joe and Rupert. After Wendy's death from motor neurone disease in 2014, Chris found love again with Loreto. They split their time between Cumbria and the south of France.
Best childhood memory?
When I was five, we lived on the ground floor of an Edwardian terrace in Hampstead. The back garden had a gate that led directly onto the bottom of Hampstead Heath. During a playdate with a friend, we slipped out the back gate and we went wandering up the Heath happily. Mum was out at work and when Grandma came looking for us, she saw we were gone, panicked and phoned the police. We were found and taken to Belsize Park station. The detective left us unattended in the inspector's office and I noticed a fridge and saw there was a pint of milk in it. I poured it all over his desk, undoubtedly over some arrest warrants and important files. At that moment, he came through the door with my grandma. Thankfully, I wasn't clipped around the ear. Everyone was just relieved we were in one piece.
Best lesson you've learnt?
Just keep going, even if it means taking a different route. When I was at school, most of my friends had got places at Cambridge or Oxford. Being a single parent, mum couldn't afford it, so I was expected to go to University College London instead. But when I found out I'd failed English, I had to go back to school again. I lasted about half a term, said 'sod this' and dropped out. I knew that meant I was going to get called up for National Service. I decided on the Royal Air Force because I hoped I'd get into RAF Mountain Rescue. To my amazement, I got through selection and ended up at RAF Cranwell.
Best thing about climbing?
I've climbed from a young age – just starting with trees. The physical and mental side of climbing pushes you and I was good at it. It was a matter of managing or conquering risk. And then as I got older and into mountaineering, I realised that not only did I love climbing, I was very good at organising expeditions. I was meticulous in planning – the guides, or blueprints, were inches thick because of the detail. I'm good at understanding how people work in a group. Being dictatorial builds resentment. When you are involved in a discussion, they're more likely to accept the outcome, and you earn their trust.
Best character trait?
I don't hold grudges against people. If they've disappointed me or let me down, I quickly get over it. Everyone's human and has their own points of view; I can live with it. When I was an instructor at the Army Outward Bound School in North Wales, I didn't get on well with the brigadier because I made the mistake of once telling him that our lads shouldn't go into the water for a swim one day when the sea was rough and dangerous. He held that against me and made a note on my file. That kind of black mark isn't good for an army career. It was a blessing in disguise; I wouldn't have been happy – my true calling was climbing.
Best way to prepare for a climb?
I've always gone running. I was a rough runner. I did the Cuillin Ridge in Scotland, solo on a hot day, but I hadn't hydrated enough, so I totally collapsed. These days, given I'm 90, my running days are over, but I go walking. Acclimatising is also vital. In 1978, Andy Rubin, the founder of Berghaus, asked me to lead a team up Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. It's a dead easy mountain, but quite high. Most people who do it know nothing about acclimatisation, and get dragged up by guides too quickly, getting very sick and having a horrible time.
Best challenge you've faced and overcome?
In 1977, I climbed the Ogre, a mountain in Pakistan that had never been climbed before. It's not one of the highest; it's under the magic 8,000m magic range. But it's very, very difficult in every way, including a long, complicated approach.
Best advice you'd give to a new climber?
Be realistic about what you can do. Really think about it. Find out as much as you possibly can about the location, expedition or event. Then having done that, really look at yourself and think about how capable you are and how to get through it. Most of all enjoy it, and be challenged by it because to be worthwhile, you have to be challenged.
Worst challenge you've faced?
Leading an expedition attempting K2 (the second-highest mountain on Earth) in June 1978. That doesn't mean being out in front, you put your best climbers out front. Leading the expedition means directing it as a whole. The best position for my role is to be two camps behind the lead climber because you can see what's happening in the upper part and you've still got a feel of what's happening lower down. Ultimately, we hadn't chosen the best route, but it could have worked. There's a certain point when you're quite high up and we had to cross a long hanging glacier – which was the most direct route, but more difficult. We made it across in a thin line. Two days later, I'm on a rest day at camp and a huge avalanche came crashing down and someone said, 'Christ sake, do you realise one of our guys ahead could be in that?' I later found out that my close friend Nick Escourt had been in it and was killed. Talking to Nick's wife back home in Manchester about it was very hard. Unfortunately, most big expeditions lose people. It's very sad, but as a whole you accept that risk and you have to not be broken by it.
Worst regret?
I don't have regrets as such because I accept that I can't get everything right. But when it comes to loss, I still find it very difficult to talk about. In May 1966, I was in the Ecuadorian Amazon, to photograph Sangay, an active volcano, for The Telegraph when I was a photojournalist. I received a devastating note from a Kichwa tribesman. My son Conrad had died in a drowning accident. I was inconsolable. Returning through the jungle, on my long journey home, I realised I'd never be able to hold him again. Almost 60 years later, I still get very emotional about it.
Worst lesson about society?
Capitalism may have its faults, but communism is one hell of a lot worse. You're much better off within a capitalist society that has a conscience. That's why I've stayed loyal to Berghaus and the founders Steven and Andy Rubin; they're responsible capitalists that haven't gone dashing off abroad to avoid paying taxes and want to make a better world.
Worst trait?
I tend to make decisions very quickly, on tiny things and big things. Then later I'll realise, no that's not a very good idea after all and then I have to backtrack. My wonderful wife Loreto knows, when I make one of these decisions, that there's a good chance I'll change my mind again! I'm also impatient. If I'm interrupted when I'm focusing on something important, I get really irritable. But I get over it quickly, so others don't take any notice of it any more.
Worst thing in the news?
The appalling amount of violence that's going on in the world today, aimed very often at vulnerable people. What Hamas did in Gaza was appalling, but the reaction Israel has taken to hammer and hammer the area as a whole is killing so many civilians. For every terrorist they're killing, they're emboldening the remaining ones and creating a dozen more for a new generation whose minds are poisoned.
Worst fear for the future?
The original atom bombs that were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki are little more than firecrackers compared to the nuclear weapons that exist now. People have become so desensitised to talking about nuclear war, that they almost don't realise the apocalyptic effect it would have.
