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Seven Climbs: Finding the finest climb on each continent
'Even the most casual reader among you will by now have worked out that the whole thing is little more than a delightful ruse for having a very good time.' Experienced climber Charles Sherwood is on a quest to find the best climb on each continent. He eschews the traditional Seven Summits, where height alone is the determining factor, and instead considers mountaineering challenge, natural beauty and historical context, aiming to capture the diverse character of each continent and the sheer variety of climbing in all its forms. The author's ambitious odyssey takes him to the Alps, the Himalaya, Yosemite, the Andes, Kenya, New Zealand and South Georgia. His goal is neither to seek glory nor to complete a box-ticking exercise, but simply to enjoy himself in the company of his fellow climbers, including Mark Seaton, Andy Kirkpatrick and Stephen Venables, and to appreciate the splendour of his surroundings. On classic routes like the North Face of the Eiger and the Nose on El Capitan, it is hard not to be swept away by Sherwood's unfaltering enthusiasm. Also featuring fascinating historical detail about each route, Seven Climbs is a compelling account of Sherwood's efforts to answer a much-debated which are the world’s greatest climbs?
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Published May 7, 2020
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
October 24, 2020
Climbers love tick-lists. Some tick-lists are self-selecting – the 14 mountains of the world over 8000 metres, the 82 Alpine peaks over 4000 metres, ……while other tick-lists are simply subjective, like “50 Classic Climbs of North America”, the UK’s “Classic Rock” or your personal Bucket List . Charles Sherwood has selected his Seven Climbs, one on each continent, with the subtitle ‘Finding the finest climb on each continent’. The author acknowledges his choice is subjective and contentious, but thinks climbers will enjoy a good argument about it; they usually do.
Who is Charles Sherwood? He is not a ‘well-known’ climber, makes no claims for his ability, but he must be competent, experienced, fit and determined to undertake these climbs. The sleeve notes say he enjoys other adrenalin sports such as paragliding and cave diving. He is a senior investment banker with a global equity fund, and writes in passing about the 2008 crash, although all turned out well for him apparently.
His seven expeditions were undertaken with professional guides and guiding companies. There is a long tradition of guided mountaineering dating back to the Victorian pioneers in the Alps, and continues today, particularly for the big mountains where technical experience, travel, safety and local logistics are best managed by people who have the relevant expertise. It’s also handy if there are people to carry your stuff and cook for you. Without clients, mountain guide businesses would have no work, and some local economies have become dependent on them. Not all climbers view the commoditisation of climbs and climbing as a good thing, flying across the world to pick off your objective with ample support to get your tick and nipping back home to a comfortable life. The worst excesses of this are seen on Mt Everest. There is a counter tradition of individualism, getting by on limited funds, the journey seen as valuable as the destination, personal sacrifice and overcoming the odds that runs in the veins of some in the climbing community. Envy? Perhaps, yet we all buy stuff to feed our obsession with leaving level ground to go upwards on a mountain or rock-face. However you arrive at your objective, you still have to climb it, and you can still die in doing so.
The title gives an obvious structure to the seven essays, of which the Eiger and South Georgia are the fullest. Charles gives us some history for each climb, describes his ascents in an easy to read style, occasionally a bit corny, and he explains technical terms for non-climbing readers. His relationship with the guide is clearly central to each story, less so with his fellow clients where there are others involved. With extensive travelling to each continent, we learn little of local cultures and localities, although his account of the tiny South Georgia community gives us a feel for those who live there today. The descriptions of climbing action are the focus of the book, and are at their best in the Eiger and Yosemite chapters. An amusing strand that runs throughout is the author’s references to his wife, Rosemary. Like Captain Mainwaring’s Elizabeth, she appears only as a background figure, somewhat daunting, and we can but speculate on Charles’ assertion that he shares second-bottom place with the cat but above the goldfish in Rosemary’s “matriarchy”. She has vowed never to read his book, so he could have told us more!
Overall, it’s an easy, enjoyable read, more informative than insightful, not as reflective as I’d hoped about the author himself, a bit uneven in coverage of each climb, but will probably appeal to a wider audience beyond a climbing readership alone. Big brownie points to the author for donating the proceeds to the Himalayan Mountain Trust UK – you should buy it for this reason alone.
Who is Charles Sherwood? He is not a ‘well-known’ climber, makes no claims for his ability, but he must be competent, experienced, fit and determined to undertake these climbs. The sleeve notes say he enjoys other adrenalin sports such as paragliding and cave diving. He is a senior investment banker with a global equity fund, and writes in passing about the 2008 crash, although all turned out well for him apparently.
His seven expeditions were undertaken with professional guides and guiding companies. There is a long tradition of guided mountaineering dating back to the Victorian pioneers in the Alps, and continues today, particularly for the big mountains where technical experience, travel, safety and local logistics are best managed by people who have the relevant expertise. It’s also handy if there are people to carry your stuff and cook for you. Without clients, mountain guide businesses would have no work, and some local economies have become dependent on them. Not all climbers view the commoditisation of climbs and climbing as a good thing, flying across the world to pick off your objective with ample support to get your tick and nipping back home to a comfortable life. The worst excesses of this are seen on Mt Everest. There is a counter tradition of individualism, getting by on limited funds, the journey seen as valuable as the destination, personal sacrifice and overcoming the odds that runs in the veins of some in the climbing community. Envy? Perhaps, yet we all buy stuff to feed our obsession with leaving level ground to go upwards on a mountain or rock-face. However you arrive at your objective, you still have to climb it, and you can still die in doing so.
The title gives an obvious structure to the seven essays, of which the Eiger and South Georgia are the fullest. Charles gives us some history for each climb, describes his ascents in an easy to read style, occasionally a bit corny, and he explains technical terms for non-climbing readers. His relationship with the guide is clearly central to each story, less so with his fellow clients where there are others involved. With extensive travelling to each continent, we learn little of local cultures and localities, although his account of the tiny South Georgia community gives us a feel for those who live there today. The descriptions of climbing action are the focus of the book, and are at their best in the Eiger and Yosemite chapters. An amusing strand that runs throughout is the author’s references to his wife, Rosemary. Like Captain Mainwaring’s Elizabeth, she appears only as a background figure, somewhat daunting, and we can but speculate on Charles’ assertion that he shares second-bottom place with the cat but above the goldfish in Rosemary’s “matriarchy”. She has vowed never to read his book, so he could have told us more!
Overall, it’s an easy, enjoyable read, more informative than insightful, not as reflective as I’d hoped about the author himself, a bit uneven in coverage of each climb, but will probably appeal to a wider audience beyond a climbing readership alone. Big brownie points to the author for donating the proceeds to the Himalayan Mountain Trust UK – you should buy it for this reason alone.
October 21, 2020
Enraged! That's what I am, just as the author hopes for. Why not the Beckey-Chouinard in the Bugaboos instead of El Cap? Why Ama Dablam on a commercial expedition? Charles Sherwood probably has loads of good reasons for choosing these seven routes, and they are all up there as great climbs, but no doubt he wanted a fighting chance of completing them, so even if the Golden Pillar of Spantick or the Rupal Face are better routes it matters not as, decent climber though he may be that might be a step too far.
This is a highly entertaining read, well written with wit and humour and I thoroughly recommend it to non-climbers and climbers alike. Non-climbers will get an insight into adventure in the mountains and its diversity of challenges. The language doesn't get too technical, and the first chapter is an epic tale of failure, retreat (twice) and eventual success in the balance on the Eiger's infamous North Face, and the book ends of an equally epic high down in the Antarctic on South Georgia with storms, crevasse falls and an outcome in the balance. Climbers will appreciate the routes and get stuck into dreaming of what their seven routes would be. Perhaps unfortunate that at the moment we're not meeting in the pub to argue it out due to the pandemic!
There's also an insight into the client - Guide relationship with clear difference between the shared ambition to climb the Eiger North Face with the demands on the Guide leading every pitch over 4 days, and the commercial style expeditions in the Himalaya and the Andes. I found the latter accounts slower, less interesting, less original, to my mind reflecting the style of mountaineering.
So, I loved this book, it's a great read. But actually I had a niggle throughout. How in this day and age can we justify such travel in the face of a climate emergency, when to do so will only make the situation worse, a situation that even now claims lives? I couldn't. Enjoy the read, but perhaps have the courage and strength to find your mountain adventures closer to home - to mis-quote Edward Whymper in Scrambles Amongst the Alps (a range easily accessible by bus, train or car for european climbers), “Climb if you will, but remember that courage and strength are nought without prudence, and that a momentary negligence may destroy the happiness of our children's lifetimes. Do nothing in haste; look well to each step; and from the beginning think what may be the end.”
This is a highly entertaining read, well written with wit and humour and I thoroughly recommend it to non-climbers and climbers alike. Non-climbers will get an insight into adventure in the mountains and its diversity of challenges. The language doesn't get too technical, and the first chapter is an epic tale of failure, retreat (twice) and eventual success in the balance on the Eiger's infamous North Face, and the book ends of an equally epic high down in the Antarctic on South Georgia with storms, crevasse falls and an outcome in the balance. Climbers will appreciate the routes and get stuck into dreaming of what their seven routes would be. Perhaps unfortunate that at the moment we're not meeting in the pub to argue it out due to the pandemic!
There's also an insight into the client - Guide relationship with clear difference between the shared ambition to climb the Eiger North Face with the demands on the Guide leading every pitch over 4 days, and the commercial style expeditions in the Himalaya and the Andes. I found the latter accounts slower, less interesting, less original, to my mind reflecting the style of mountaineering.
So, I loved this book, it's a great read. But actually I had a niggle throughout. How in this day and age can we justify such travel in the face of a climate emergency, when to do so will only make the situation worse, a situation that even now claims lives? I couldn't. Enjoy the read, but perhaps have the courage and strength to find your mountain adventures closer to home - to mis-quote Edward Whymper in Scrambles Amongst the Alps (a range easily accessible by bus, train or car for european climbers), “Climb if you will, but remember that courage and strength are nought without prudence, and that a momentary negligence may destroy the happiness of our children's lifetimes. Do nothing in haste; look well to each step; and from the beginning think what may be the end.”
December 8, 2020
I really enjoyed this book. It is an account of the author's quest to complete a personal variation on the famous 'Seven Summits' challenge.
The original Seven Summits challenge is to climb the highest peak on each continent. There is some variation on the list of peaks included, depending on how one defines and counts the continents. The list always includes Everest (Asia), Aconcagua (South America), Denali (North America), Kilimanjaro (Africa), and Vinson (Antarcica), but has varied between Elbrus and Mont Blanc (depending on definition of Europe), and between Puncak Jaya and Kosciuszko (depending on whether one includes Oceania or Australia). And if Oceania and Australia are counted as separate continents, then both Puncak Jaya and Kosciuszko would be included, and if Zealandia is recognised as a ninth continent, then this would bring Aorakia/Mt Cook into the game too. So it can get complicated. Either way, the Seven Summits is coveted and expensive. Peaks are picked for their height, and usually ascended by their normal routes.
Charles Sherwood settled on a different quest: to climb 'the finest mountaineering objectives on each of the seven continents... [reflecting] mountaineering challenge, natural beauty, and historical context...', and this book is a telling of his adventures in pursuit of that aim. He has chosen a nice selection of routes, including good exemplars of the criteria he sets - the 1938 Route on the North Face of the Eiger, The Nose on El Capitan, and a traverse of Mt Kenya. He runs into some noteable names along the way, including Stephen Venables, Andy Kirkpatrick and even the owner of a famous UK climbing and outdoor sports shop - Stephen Reid, of Needlesports.
It's a nice book to read - Sherwood is fun and self-effacing, and I think more self-deprecating than he perhaps deserves - even now, climbing the North Face of the Eiger on holiday is no mean feat for the non-professional mountaineer. He clearly loves climbing and the mountains, and so readers interested in that world will find plenty of interest. But I think he also achieves a wider feat of refocusing on just how many amazing places and climbs are out there beyond the household names, and I suppose a reminder of climbing as a humbling, challenging, and sometimes sublime experience that can be achieved at many different levels. Recommended.
The original Seven Summits challenge is to climb the highest peak on each continent. There is some variation on the list of peaks included, depending on how one defines and counts the continents. The list always includes Everest (Asia), Aconcagua (South America), Denali (North America), Kilimanjaro (Africa), and Vinson (Antarcica), but has varied between Elbrus and Mont Blanc (depending on definition of Europe), and between Puncak Jaya and Kosciuszko (depending on whether one includes Oceania or Australia). And if Oceania and Australia are counted as separate continents, then both Puncak Jaya and Kosciuszko would be included, and if Zealandia is recognised as a ninth continent, then this would bring Aorakia/Mt Cook into the game too. So it can get complicated. Either way, the Seven Summits is coveted and expensive. Peaks are picked for their height, and usually ascended by their normal routes.
Charles Sherwood settled on a different quest: to climb 'the finest mountaineering objectives on each of the seven continents... [reflecting] mountaineering challenge, natural beauty, and historical context...', and this book is a telling of his adventures in pursuit of that aim. He has chosen a nice selection of routes, including good exemplars of the criteria he sets - the 1938 Route on the North Face of the Eiger, The Nose on El Capitan, and a traverse of Mt Kenya. He runs into some noteable names along the way, including Stephen Venables, Andy Kirkpatrick and even the owner of a famous UK climbing and outdoor sports shop - Stephen Reid, of Needlesports.
It's a nice book to read - Sherwood is fun and self-effacing, and I think more self-deprecating than he perhaps deserves - even now, climbing the North Face of the Eiger on holiday is no mean feat for the non-professional mountaineer. He clearly loves climbing and the mountains, and so readers interested in that world will find plenty of interest. But I think he also achieves a wider feat of refocusing on just how many amazing places and climbs are out there beyond the household names, and I suppose a reminder of climbing as a humbling, challenging, and sometimes sublime experience that can be achieved at many different levels. Recommended.
October 4, 2020
As soon as I read Charles Sherwood’s introduction (‘The Challenge’) and discovered that his motivation for these climbs had nothing to do with the height of any peak he was climbing, but that what interested him was both the challenge and the holistic quality of each climb, I felt sure I was going to enjoy his accounts of his climbs. However, not only was that initial optimism rewarded, but this has turned out to be the most engaging and entertaining ‘adventure’ stories I’ve ever read. From start to finish I found it, for the following reasons, immensely readable – in fact almost impossible to put down.
Without in any way appearing to be patronising towards his readers, the author avoided an over-use of technical climbing terms, making it easy for a non-climber to follow each of the climbing challenges, enabling an appreciation of the difficulties facing the climbers, as well as respect for their bravery. There were moments when his descriptions of the challenges they were taking on, as well as the unexpected crises they encountered, left me feeling terrified for them – and also feeling icy-cold as the temperatures plummeted! I loved the dry humour and self-deprecating observations which ran through book – they provided some wonderful light relief from the ‘edge-of-the-seat’ tension generated by the all too evocative descriptions of the dangers of climbing in such extreme conditions. I also loved the fact that, with each climb, I also learned something about the social/historical context of the locale, the topography and specific geology, wildlife etc, all elements which added layers of background interest which are so often absent in similar accounts. And last, but by no means least, the stunning photographs and diagrammatic depictions of the climbs, really helped me to feel part of these expeditions – albeit from the comfort of my sofa in a lovely warm room!
A truly magnificent book which I feel able to recommend without reservation – a thrilling read for climbers and non-climbers alike.
With my thanks to Vertebrate Publishing for sending me a copy in exchange for an honest review.
Without in any way appearing to be patronising towards his readers, the author avoided an over-use of technical climbing terms, making it easy for a non-climber to follow each of the climbing challenges, enabling an appreciation of the difficulties facing the climbers, as well as respect for their bravery. There were moments when his descriptions of the challenges they were taking on, as well as the unexpected crises they encountered, left me feeling terrified for them – and also feeling icy-cold as the temperatures plummeted! I loved the dry humour and self-deprecating observations which ran through book – they provided some wonderful light relief from the ‘edge-of-the-seat’ tension generated by the all too evocative descriptions of the dangers of climbing in such extreme conditions. I also loved the fact that, with each climb, I also learned something about the social/historical context of the locale, the topography and specific geology, wildlife etc, all elements which added layers of background interest which are so often absent in similar accounts. And last, but by no means least, the stunning photographs and diagrammatic depictions of the climbs, really helped me to feel part of these expeditions – albeit from the comfort of my sofa in a lovely warm room!
A truly magnificent book which I feel able to recommend without reservation – a thrilling read for climbers and non-climbers alike.
With my thanks to Vertebrate Publishing for sending me a copy in exchange for an honest review.
October 26, 2020
This is an interesting book about Charles Sherwood's adventures on his climbing holidays in seven continents. He is a very fortunate and motivated man to have the time, resources and support to be able to undertake these adventures.
It was a very different book from many other climbing stories completed on a shoestring, which makes an interesting read accessible to a wide audience.
It's an informative read which I felt could have included a bit more personality and reflection. Although guided climbing gives people work, it can be a controversial pursuit as our planet struggles on. However, Charles Sherwood will donate the proceeds from the book to the Himalayan Trust UK, which is money they would never have had if he had never ventured there, so there are two sides to every coin.
Overall, a different book from the normal hardcore climbing books, which makes it an interesting read.
It was a very different book from many other climbing stories completed on a shoestring, which makes an interesting read accessible to a wide audience.
It's an informative read which I felt could have included a bit more personality and reflection. Although guided climbing gives people work, it can be a controversial pursuit as our planet struggles on. However, Charles Sherwood will donate the proceeds from the book to the Himalayan Trust UK, which is money they would never have had if he had never ventured there, so there are two sides to every coin.
Overall, a different book from the normal hardcore climbing books, which makes it an interesting read.
October 12, 2020
Enjoyed this although it is mostly his tales of guided holidays and a bit different from the more hardcore 1st ascents and exploration books. The last chapter on South Georgia though stands out as more of what I was expecting.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews