The Invisible Man: Hamish McArthur Conquers Toughest Boulder in a Day
I like the idea of taking something that’s seen as impossible and making it possible
McArthur on the hardest move: No One Mourns the Wicked, Colorado
© Quinn Mason
Rocky beginnings
By the age of 10, you were a climbing prodigy competing in indoor competitions, and you won the British under-14s category at 12. But where did your interest in climbing start?
I started climbing when I was five, and then it snowballed. But my whole childhood felt like I was trying to not be noticed by anybody, just existing in the shadows and doing my own thing. Competing was definitely a way of getting attention, but in something I felt secure in and that I was objectively good at. If I’m doing well in a competition as a young,really competitive but insecure 10, 11, 12-year-old, thatfeels good. It’s validation that gives you some identity tolean on. But through leaning on that, you create quite a hollow crutch.
So it affected your wellbeing in the end?
Yes, [because] you’re relying on something that isn’t solid. It’salways changing, and you’re not relying on the things that are more solid, like love and an appreciation for who you are – the simple stuff. That’s not a healthy way of existing.
McArthur climbs the second ascent of Megatron (V17), Colorado
© Sam Pratt
What was the turning point?
A really unpleasant year of competing, in 2022, when I just hated it the whole time but felt an obligation to be there. For thefirst time ever, I considered that I could actually do a full human lifetime if I stopped climbing. And it could be great. There are many people who live cool, fulfilling, interesting liveswho have zero idea what a V17 is. It means nothing. And it’s just so important to me to remember that. I was making aprison for myself, so it was important for me to have this one moment of bravery and realise I could just walk away from it and I’d be fine. So then, with that narrative, I went and started enjoying competing again.
Redefining what’s possible
If you’re trying to avoid using climbing success as personal validation, what is your motivation?
Redefining what’s possible is a big inspiration, a big goal ofmine. That’s the why that’s pushing me to get better; the ideaof dissolving boundaries of what I thought was humanly possible. My process isn’t binary – it’s not like I’m gonna do this amount of strength work and this amount of resting and that will make me good enough. I just don’t think it’s that simple.
I’ve done some impressive things, but nothing has felt close to the limit yet. I want to step into the unknown
On YouTube, it looks like you swing up a series of positive handholds on NOMTW – very physical but smooth…
Actually, the holds are not good at all! When I first showed up that day, I thought, “Oh God, this is way worse than I thought it was going to be.” I was on the very edge of falling off all of the time, which is nerve-racking. But it was really important for me not to focus on [those] sensations and [instead] just climb as if it was easy, so that it was efficient and fast.
McArthur chills on Stanage Edge in the Peak District
© Jessica Glassberg
So you’re not just flowing up the climb?
It’s thinking a few steps ahead, which is really hard to do in climbing because it’s sacrificing natural movement for setting up future moves. It feels a little chess-like.
Perhaps, by hacking awareness to redirect focus and access some of the data we physically sense but our brains can’t consciously process, other parts of the brain go on standby…
That’s how it feels, yes. My attention isn’t on the unnecessary parts, and an unnecessary part of performing at that level, in that moment, is memory and identity. You’re not thinking about yourself as an I.
You had to power-scream your way up into the last section of NOMTW. Was that part of the plan?
Making these sounds helps me focus and centre myself. It’s like a reset. It put me in a place where I could hold back a tidal wave of expectation, prediction and future planning, of “What if I do this move?” or “What if I don’t do this move?”. The whole thing comes down to this last sequence where you’re tired and there’s a lot of dialogue in your head. You have to really trust your feet and your body position. But that’s hard to do when there’s a V17 on the line and [my] baggage about climbing success is getting in the way.
It’s clearly a constant battle to let go of expectations, goodor bad, but what inspired this in the first place?
The beautiful painting I’d seen years ago, showing this invisible-lookingman in a field of flowers. When I was trying Megatron, that was in the back of my mind. And after I’d done [the climb], I remembered the picture and was like, “Oh my God, I’vebeen using this as my muse for my own process the wholetime.”
How does a painting of an invisible man help you to climb?
The Poet makes me think of the world moving through my body, like being a conduit for experience to flow through, rather than imposing yourself on the rock like, “I’m going to overcome this thing.” It’s a more gentle feeling, just trusting the gradient to take you where you need to go. You come out from a trance after all that really intense focus, and there’s genuine disbelief: “Did that actually happen?” On some level, I don’t know [for sure] until I see a video of it. It doesn’t feel like I did the climb.
Final Boulder at British Bouldering Championships Qualifiers
© Sam Pratt
McArthur Secures Second Place in British Bouldering Championships Final
© Sam Pratt
Are you literally leaving part of yourself behind, to get out ofyour own way?
Parking the ego is a good way of putting it. When it’s going well and when my best stuff comes out in climbing, or painting, or conversation or whatever, it’s usually when that distraction is taken out, because there’s just less self-judgment. There’s less feedback, less judgment like, “How am I going to be perceived because of this?” That allows you to be genuinely expressive. You just leave [the ego] behind and go on this little adventure. Then it comes back to you and sometimes, in that moment of coming back, I can see this is really good. But it’s almost too real sometimes. Part of it is all the ‘what if’s start hitting you at that point: I just did V17 in a few goes – what happens next?
Stirring the pot
You had a bit of pushback on social media after sharing your climbing process…
I’m trying, through all of this and the way I share about it, tojust stir up the climbing community a bit and make people question stuff. There’s a lot of really binary thinking, and that’s been reflected in climbing culture after I shared that it’s not about sacrifices; it’s the actual opposite of sacrifice.
I become invisible, letting the world move through me like I’m made of glass
Does ditching the desire for success liberate you to try to push the limits in new ways?
There are some pieces of rock that are unclimbable by a human, and no amount of disappearing the ego will help you do that. There’s a spectrum. I want to find the most difficult thing I’m able to do. I really want to tear open this wall we have of how things should work in climbing and do some crazy shit, some really demanding stuff, and push the limit. I’ve done some impressive things, but nothing has felt close to the limit yet – noteven close. I do want to keep pushing it. I want to step intothe unknown, because usually we spend all our time avoidingthat.
What do you hope your climbing inspires in others andalso yourself?
I just like the idea of taking something impossible and making itpossible, opening minds. I think it’s important, for myself and hopefully for the world, to not feel like things are set in stone.