The life of John Cleare, the great mountain photographer, as told in comments

I was sad to learn of the death of legendary photographer John Cleare in October this year at the age of 88. He was one of the best known and most respected climbing and mountaineering photographers of the last 50 years.

One of his first commissions was as a cameraman for the Swiss documentary film Matterhorn Centenary in 1965. He was a cameramen on Sir Chris Bonington’s famous BBC live broadcast Old Man of Hoy in 1967, and went on to film Clint Eastwood in the Eiger Sanction in 1974. My copy of climbing legend Joe Brown’s autobiography The Hard Years has one of John Cleare’s photos of Joe climbing a sea cliff in Wales on the cover.

The Hard Years by Joe Brown, with one of John Cleare's photographs on the front cover
The Hard Years by Joe Brown, with one of John Cleare’s photographs on the front cover

John Cleare was also a prolific author of lavishly illustrated books about climbing and mountaineering. His first, Rock Climbers in Action in Snowdonia with Frank Smythe’s son Tony was published in 1965. Others include the the Collins Guide to Mountains and Mountaineering in 1979, Distant Mountains in 1999 and Epic Climbs in 2011. Two of the first coffee table books I bought from the Pilgrim’s Book House in Kathmandu, Richard Sale’s On Top of the World (about the first ascents of the 8,000m peaks) and Steve Razzetti’s Top Treks of the World were also edited by John.

He was also a great mountaineer and mountain explorer in his own right. He climbed all over the world, including the Himalayas. He was a member of the 1971 international expedition to the SW Face of Everest. He led the 1978 British attempt on 7,893m Himalchuli, and the successful American ski ascent of Muztag Ata in China in 1982.

I never met John Cleare, but much to my surprise (and great honour), he was a reader of this blog for over 10 years and one of my more prolific commenters. It was always a privilege to receive his posts, which were invariably fascinating. Because of his unique depth of experience, it felt like I was being let into some long-forgotten mountaineering secret.

I will miss his comments. It would be a shame for these nuggets to be lost at the foot of some obscure blog post. So as a tribute to the great man, and to thank him for blessing this blog with his wisdom, I would like to share some of them here.

A rare glimpse into the 1960 Chinese Everest expedition

John’s first comment on this blog was in 2013, in response to a post I’d written a year earlier entitled What climbing Everest taught me about George Mallory’s final hours.

The Chinese liaison officer on John’s 1982 Muztag Ata expedition was none other than Chu Yin-hua, a member of the Chinese team who made the first ascent of Everest by the North Ridge in 1960. It was Chu who led the ascent of the Second Step, which was believed by some to be the first time this feature had been climbed.

For a long time, the Chinese ascent of 1960 was disputed, including by John himself, because their official account of the climb seemed suspect. However, after meeting Chu and having many conversations with him about Everest during the course of the expedition, John changed his opinion and believed that Chu and his companions had indeed climbed the mountain in 1960.

More surprisingly, after talking to John and learning more about George Mallory, Chu told John that he too believed that Mallory had reached the summit – surprising because it would mean that Chu’s Chinese team had not make the first ascent of the North Ridge after all.

Has there been a secret ascent of Machapuchare?

Every year, thousands of trekkers flock to Pokhara in Nepal to trek into the Annapurna Sanctuary. Perhaps the most striking mountain from Pokhara is the Matterhorn-like summit of Machapuchare (also known as the Fishtail, because from another angle it can be seen to have twin summits).

Famously, Machapuchare has never been climbed. After climbing to within 50m of the summit in 1957, a British team persuaded the Nepalese authorities to designate it a holy mountain. No permit has ever been granted to climb it since.

But has it been climbed illegally and in secret? If it has then John did not approve. In a comment on my rather more frivolous post How many aitches in Machapuchare? in 2014, he provided some intriguing evidence that it may have.

Did Bill Tilman climb Paldor, as he claimed?

During his trip to Nepal in 1949 (described in his book Nepal Himalaya), the great mountain explorer Bill Tilman claimed to have made an ascent of the 5,928m trekking peak Paldor with Tenzing Norgay. Indeed, to this day Tilman and his companions are credited with having made the first ascent.

However, John explored the area thoroughly in 1974 and made a full traverse of Paldor by its south and east ridges. He also led a commercial expedition to the mountain in 1977 with Mountain Travel, one of the very first trekking operators. After reading Tilman’s description of the climb John was convinced that Tilman and Tenzing must have climbed a different mountain, as he explained in a 2015 comment on my post Tilman’s expedition to Langtang.

What’s wrong with modern outdoor clothing brands?

In another frivolous blog post in 2018, I raised the question Why do outdoor brands constantly dick around with perfectly good gear? Although it was meant as a humorous post, it elicited some highly insightful and serious responses, including one from John.

He pointed out that some of the early mountaineering equipment manufacturers, such as Karrimor and Berghaus, started out as small companies owned by enthusiasts. In due course they were taken over by larger companies whose business model was more in keeping with fashion houses than equipment manufacturers. This model was based on the assumption that customers would prefer to go for the latest version than last year’s.

For good measure, he recommended a book, Invisible on Everest, for anyone interested in the history of mountaineering equipment.

What is the Alpine Club’s Spirit of Mountaineering Commendation?

In 2021, when many of us were still obeying COVID-19 lockdown restrictions and were yet to be vaccinated, the Nepalese government announced that Everest was open for climbing. While some mountaineering operators recognised that it was still much too early to resume expeditions, others were only too eager to get back to work.

The result was predictable. Infections picked up across Nepal, spreading to the Khumbu region and Everest Base Camp. As hospitals in Kathmandu became overwhelmed with casualties, some of whom were tourists who had been evacuated from Everest Base Camp by helicopter, they started running out of life-saving oxygen supplies.

In a comment on my post Everest and COVID-19: Why don’t operators donate their oxygen to hospitals in Nepal? John reminded us of the Croucher Initiative, an award set up by the Alpine Club in response to negative publicity about selfishness on Everest. The Spirit of Mountaineering Commendation honours those who have sacrificed their own mountaineering objective to help a fellow climber – a spirit that appeared to be conspicuously lacking on Everest in 2021.

What’s the best route up Ladhar Bheinn in the Scottish Highlands?

It wasn’t just my Himalayan posts that John responded to. Having climbed all over the world, his interests were wide ranging. Even so, I was surprised when a comment popped up from him on one of my trip reports about a spot of gentle backpacking in Scotland, Bothies, boats and backpacks: climbing the Knoydart Three Munros.

Last year, Edita and I had a very enjoyable two days in Knoydart on the northwest coast of Scotland, catching a boat from Mallaig, climbing Knoydart’s three Munros and staying at a bothy on the shores of Barrisdale Bay. John explained that the best route up Ladhar Bheinn, one of Scotland’s most picturesque Munros, is via the crags of its northeast corrie. He even recommended a subject for a future blog post which, alas, I never did get around to writing.

In memory of Tony Smythe

John’s very last comment on this blog was in April this year, on a post that I wrote 11 years ago about the great mountaineer of the 1930s Frank Smythe.

Frank Smythe’s son was John’s old climbing partner Tony Smythe, with whom he wrote his first book of mountain photography Rock Climbers in Action in Snowdonia (and whose book My Father Frank I reviewed here). Tony Smythe died in February at the age of 89, just eight months before John himself passed away. I guess John must have been googling his old friend to reminisce when one of my old posts popped up. It’s fitting that this should have been his last comment.

A full list of John Cleare’s comments on this blog

Date Title
3 November 2013 What climbing Everest taught me about George Mallory’s final hours
29 October 2014 How many aitches in Machapuchare?
4 February 2015 Tilman’s expedition to Langtang
6 February 2015 Tilman’s expedition to Langtang
7 November 2018 Why do outdoor brands constantly dick around with perfectly good gear?
11 January 2019 Ojos del Salado — the photos (and a quick message about cheating)
15 July 2020 What does Mount Everest look like from space?
16 May 2021 Everest and COVID-19: Why don’t operators donate their oxygen to hospitals in Nepal?
1 September 2023 Bothies, boats and backpacks: climbing the Knoydart Three Munros
3 April 2024 Frank Smythe is more interesting than George Mallory

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