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Ladles & Jellyspoons of the class of '99...Go...Climbing...
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, climbing would be it.
The long-term benefits of climbing have been widely documented by Patey, Whillans, Haston, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own oscillating delirium.
I will dispense this advice now....

Enjoy the power and beauty of your forearms.
Oh, never mind.
You will not understand the power and beauty of your forearms until it has faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself cranking on dinks and recall in a way you can't grasp now, how much power-endurance you had and how fabulous it really was.
You are NOT as weak as you imagine.
Don't worry about when the next sunny day is coming.
Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to out boulder Klem Loskot. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your climbing trivia mind, like overdrafts and laundry.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Solo.
Be reckless when belaying other people.
Don't put up with people who are reckless when belaying you.
Train.
Don't waste your time on spouses.
Sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down.
The race is long, but in the end it's only against gravity.
Exaggerate you're achievements.
Ignore the achievements of others.
If you don't succeed in getting strong, take steroids.
Keep your old rock boots.
Throw away your old Whillans harness.
Waffle.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know when you might start wearing ankle warmers.
The strongest people I know, didn't know at 22 when they would start.
Most of the most inersesting 40-year-olds I know now have.
Buy plenty of cams. Don't use hexes.
They'll only weigh you down on the crux, or get caught in the style at Tremadog.
Maybe you'll onsight, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll nick someone elses project, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll flash 8a at 40, maybe you'll eat a Big Jim at Pete Eat's at your 75th Climbing Club Reunion.
Whatever you do, make sure you eat plenty of malt loaf.
Your choices are always risky.
Unlike everybody else's.
Use someone else's body.
Stand on their shoulder to clip the first runner.
Don't be afraid of ethics or of what the conservationists might think.
It's probably the only way you'll ever climb the route anyway.
Dance.
Even if you have nowhere to do it but on a narrow ledge half way up El Cap.
Write bad directions, especially for Climbers Club guide books.
Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel horny, read...Climber instead.
Get to know your parents. You never know when you'll have to persuade them to let you build a board in their cellar.
Be nice to your climbing wall staff. They are your best link to getting strong and the people most likely to get you cheap kit and holds in the future.
Understand, that favourite climbing tights come and go, but for a precious few, you should incinerate.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in power and endurance, because the older you get, the harder it will be to crank and crimp like you did when you were young.
Live in Sheffield once, but leave before you begin to enjoy Peak Limestone.
Live with Dave Cuthbertson once, but leave before your forearms mutate.
Dyno.
Accept certain inalienable truths:
Gear prices will rise.
Midges will prevail in Scotland.
You too will develop a preference for bumbling.
And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, midges were friendly and bumbling was always the way.
Respect old gippers in red socks, they probably climb harder than you anyway.
Dont expect a belay off a Frenchman.
Maybe you'll have a huge rack.
Maybe you'll have your own luxury bouldering mat.
But you never know when either one might stolen from your van in Dumbarton.
Don't on sight too many pre 1950 Highland VSs or by the time you're 25 you may not be around.
Be careful whose beta you listen to, but be patient with those who supply it.
Beta is a form of sand-bagging past routes.
Dispensing it is a way of fishing the good bits from the route, poffing the horrendous sloper memories from the past, getting a glint in the eye & declaring the route a path whilst sitting back to watch your mates struggling & cursing you.

But trust me I'm a climber.

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