Chris Dale, who has died aged 49, was a 6ft 6in mountaineer with a passion for solo climbs among the hardest peaks of Scotland, Wales and the Alps. He was also an equally enthusiastic cross-dresser who went by the name of Crystal.
His long reach allowed him to establish several bitterly tough routes which have rarely, if ever, been repeated. Where climbers today often prepare first ascents by abseiling down a rock face and practising the moves in stages, Dale preferred to lead "on-sight" and "ground-up", with no preparation. He specialised in bold climbs with minimal protection and loved all forms of adventure: besides climbing, he also explored the disused mines of Wales and solo caving excursions in France.
He was very active in Scotland, particularly in winter, soloing innumerable routes and making dozens of first ascents. His climbs ranged from a solo 1.5 mile traverse of Creag Meaghaidh's ridgeline, to steep ascents up ice-blasted rock on Lochnagar, near Balmoral. Dale revelled in the wilderness of such winter mountaineering. After one 12-hour climb up a new route at Beinn Eighe, in Torridon, he delighted in pointing out the constellations of the night sky.
In 2003 he climbed what he believed to be Britain's last unclimbed mountain, a rocky pinnacle called Dun Dubh – Gaelic for black fort – on the Quiraing mountains on the Isle of Skye. Lying two miles off the tourist path, the 1,000ft face took Dale an hour to ascend. "If you slipped, you would fall to the bottom," he reported afterwards. "It's quite precipitous. The rock is absolutely atrocious."
Besides mountains, Dale's other passion was women's clothing. On one occasion he was in drag when introduced to a Frenchman as "Chris Dale". The Frenchman misheard "Crystal", and the name for Dale's alter ego stuck.
As a mountaineer the name held other resonances for Dale. A keen rock hunter, he would often climb the north faces of the Aiguille du Grepon, Grand Charmoz and the Aiguille du Plan in the Alps, in search of precious crystals to sell. In recent years he was proud of his transvestism and Crystal became a familiar, if always memorable, sight at parties.
Friends joked that they did not want to meet the woman he bought the clothes from. In fact, they were purchased openly, which led to one unfortunate incident in a Scottish branch of Asda. Thrown out for acting suspiciously, Dale complained in writing, citing the sexual discrimination act, and received a grovelling apology and a substantial voucher. It was with no little pleasure that he returned to the store to try on some clothes, soliciting the help of the manager who had evicted him.
His appearance in drag at an annual mountain guides' dinner, however, proved a step too far. When an inebriated member groped under his skirt, the long reach that served Dale so well on rock was put to devastating effect. The disciplinary action that followed was severe; there were many who felt he was treated harshly.
Chris Dale, known as Big Chris, was born on January 14 1962 in Penrith and educated locally until he ran truant at 16. He turned up four days later having soloed the Old Man of Stoer, a 200ft sandstone sea stack off the west coast of Scotland. The achievement is all the more remarkable as he had no knowledge of the route, its grade, and carried no rope (so obliging him to solo back down). Furthermore he had only just taken up climbing. Having stretched his packed lunch to four days, he was particularly hungry by the time he returned to face the inevitable grilling from his father, a local policeman.
A few years later he travelled to Australia and quickly proceeded to make an impact with a bold first ascent up a 600ft sandstone face in the Blue Mountains, which he named Big Glassy. The upper half was entirely overhanging, on soft and crumbly rock, and the feat took three days. Success owed much to Dale's unwavering commitment and optimism while leading.
In the 1980s he belonged to the group of British climbers which made its home in the makeshift campsite of Snell's Field, Chamonix, beneath Mont Blanc. This was a period before climbing and extreme sports were fashionable; the climbers were rebellious and anarchic, and viewed as borderline criminal by the French Gendarmerie, which regularly raided the campsite.
Dale put up a handful of new routes in the region, and was a keen adherent to informal rules which attached great importance to the style of ascent. Hammering in pitons or leaving gear behind was frowned upon while using a drill to place bolts was a sacrilege. Purist methods were best – it was felt a climber should tackle a mountain armed only with courage and skill; a rope was just for backup.
Chris Dale was less traditional, however, when it came to naming trails which he had blazed. Mountaineers studying the guides to follow in his tracks still have to contend with the following routes: "Vive Les Unbathed Pinkos"; "Dog Breath in the Year of the Plague"; and "Brain Death and Bad Craziness".
He subsequently trained as a Mountain Guide, but was slow to qualify in the early 1990s owing to his difficulty with skiing. Like many British guides whose backgrounds lay in rock climbing, mastering the sport was an unhappy experience. After he passed his exams the first thing he did was throw his skis away, vowing never to strap on a pair again.
As a guide he stayed true to his climbing principles, eschewing popular routes up well-known mountains in favour of more challenging objectives off the beaten track. Clients with preconceived plans soon learned that they were there to support Dale's ambitions, not the other way round. Quite often, they were led on serious adventures. But blessed with both enormous climbing talent and a natural instinct for route finding, Dale inspired total confidence.
In recent years injury prevented him from guiding and he found employment introducing disadvantaged children to the outdoors and in a climbing shop. A climber's climber, he belonged to the sport's tradition of modesty and never boasted of his exploits: his Facebook page listed his interests as "fluff, pink things, sparkly stuff and mountains".
Chris Dale was diagnosed with cancer last year. He hoped a last-minute reprieve might allow him one final adventure, but it was not granted and he died on February 19. He married Anita Grey in 1987 but they later divorced. There were no children.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/sport-obituaries/8346303/Chris-Dale.html
His appearance in drag at an annual mountain guides' dinner, however, proved a step too far. When an inebriated member groped under his skirt, the long reach that served Dale so well on rock was put to devastating effect. The disciplinary action that followed was severe; there were many who felt he was treated harshly.
Chris Dale, known as Big Chris, was born on January 14 1962 in Penrith and educated locally until he ran truant at 16. He turned up four days later having soloed the Old Man of Stoer, a 200ft sandstone sea stack off the west coast of Scotland. The achievement is all the more remarkable as he had no knowledge of the route, its grade, and carried no rope (so obliging him to solo back down). Furthermore he had only just taken up climbing. Having stretched his packed lunch to four days, he was particularly hungry by the time he returned to face the inevitable grilling from his father, a local policeman.
A few years later he travelled to Australia and quickly proceeded to make an impact with a bold first ascent up a 600ft sandstone face in the Blue Mountains, which he named Big Glassy. The upper half was entirely overhanging, on soft and crumbly rock, and the feat took three days. Success owed much to Dale's unwavering commitment and optimism while leading.
In the 1980s he belonged to the group of British climbers which made its home in the makeshift campsite of Snell's Field, Chamonix, beneath Mont Blanc. This was a period before climbing and extreme sports were fashionable; the climbers were rebellious and anarchic, and viewed as borderline criminal by the French Gendarmerie, which regularly raided the campsite.
Dale put up a handful of new routes in the region, and was a keen adherent to informal rules which attached great importance to the style of ascent. Hammering in pitons or leaving gear behind was frowned upon while using a drill to place bolts was a sacrilege. Purist methods were best – it was felt a climber should tackle a mountain armed only with courage and skill; a rope was just for backup.
Chris Dale was less traditional, however, when it came to naming trails which he had blazed. Mountaineers studying the guides to follow in his tracks still have to contend with the following routes: "Vive Les Unbathed Pinkos"; "Dog Breath in the Year of the Plague"; and "Brain Death and Bad Craziness".
He subsequently trained as a Mountain Guide, but was slow to qualify in the early 1990s owing to his difficulty with skiing. Like many British guides whose backgrounds lay in rock climbing, mastering the sport was an unhappy experience. After he passed his exams the first thing he did was throw his skis away, vowing never to strap on a pair again.
As a guide he stayed true to his climbing principles, eschewing popular routes up well-known mountains in favour of more challenging objectives off the beaten track. Clients with preconceived plans soon learned that they were there to support Dale's ambitions, not the other way round. Quite often, they were led on serious adventures. But blessed with both enormous climbing talent and a natural instinct for route finding, Dale inspired total confidence.
In recent years injury prevented him from guiding and he found employment introducing disadvantaged children to the outdoors and in a climbing shop. A climber's climber, he belonged to the sport's tradition of modesty and never boasted of his exploits: his Facebook page listed his interests as "fluff, pink things, sparkly stuff and mountains".
Chris Dale was diagnosed with cancer last year. He hoped a last-minute reprieve might allow him one final adventure, but it was not granted and he died on February 19. He married Anita Grey in 1987 but they later divorced. There were no children.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/sport-obituaries/8346303/Chris-Dale.html
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