Steve Backshall interview

The TV presenter and adventurer has tackled everything from dangerous beasts to Strictly Come Dancing. His new autobiography – Mountain: A Life on the Rocks – looks at his love affair with the mountains. We pinned him down for a quick chat...

8 mins
The book’s very honest about your flaws. Did you have any misgivings about being so revealing?
No, not really. I’m quite an opinionated person so I tend to speak my mind and have no problem saying what my shortcomings are. I think people are more interested to read about how you’re human because everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? It’s much easier to relate to someone who makes those kind of mistakes.

So were there moments where you thought, ‘Do I leave this in?"

No. There were a couple of occasions where my editor would kind of say ‘Are you sure you want to be talking about that?’ and I would say ‘Yeah, pretty much!’

Another thing you didn’t edit: visiting Tibet and discussing the political situation there, which could be diplomatically problematic for you later...

That’s one I definitely had to think about carefully because that could be challenging down the line but if someone like me was not speak about because they’re worried about their visas, that would be a pretty sad indictment – one of the many silences and injustices that allowed the situation to be perpetuated. So I had to talk about it – apart from anything else, it was one of the most dramatic things that happened on that trip.

You weave in scientific and philosophical theories throughout the book. How much of that’s conjured up while bored in the tent at the time?
It only started to be molded together in to an ethos when I was putting this book together. When you start putting things down on paper and you start thinking, ‘Oh yes, those things are connected.’ It’s tempting when you write a book like this – which involves a lot of your life – to almost use it as a psychotherapist’s couch. I think a bit of that is fine, just as long as you don’t use it entirely as some kind of confessional – that would be deadly boring.

Isn’t thinking about things a danger in adventure travel – it allows doubt to creep in at the crucial moments?

That’s a really good point. Sometimes, that kind of contemplation can aid your experiences. I know a lot of explorers who are at the top of their game do have a very well defined philosophy about what they do, but you don’t want to be hanging from your fingertips on a mountain and questioning why you’re there! I think there are happy mediums to be found, particularly for someone like me who’s made a life out of this. It helps you to define limits. Why am I doing this? Is it just for fun?

After some serious injuries and a long career of adventuring, do you find yourself sizing things up differently?

I do. I risk assess things in a very different way now. I am much less likely to do things that I consider to be life threatening than I would have done when I was in my 20s, but at the same time my level of experience and knowledge is so much further on. I do an awful lot of things that I wouldn’t have considered doing when I was in my 20s. I would never have gone diving with a five-metre long Nile crocodile or dived in a cage alongside a Great White. Those are the things I’ve learnt through experience where the limits are.

I enjoyed the self-conflict throughout the book, where people tread the thin line between making decisions for ego-reasons or from honest appraisal – how do you recognise that within yourself?
I hope that I’ve grown up quite a lot, especially since my fall. I'm not a strong mountaineer. I’m completely the wrong shape and wrong build for it. I’ve learnt to be much happier with just having a good day and I am much less likely to put myself into danger.

What’s your big attraction to mountains?
I think more than anything it’s beauty, it’s majesty, it’s going to places that feel like they cannot be tamed – places that feel like they’re bigger than us and where nature still has a great power. I like that feeling that there are still landscapes that refuse to be tamed.

Even right here in the UK you can still, if you’re into mountaineering, get your butt kicked. When you’re on Ben Nevis and there’s howling winds and you can’t see anything, that doesn’t feel like a tame environment. Mountains give us the ability to experience something extreme, even somewhere as apparently tame as the UK.

In his recent book [The Adventure Game], Keith Partridge has got some very intimidating pictures from the top of Ben Nevis...
Absolutely. There are routes on the north face that many Everest mountaineers could not even think about trying and when conditions are in the middle of winter it is a very challenging and stern place. There are a couple of reasonably worn routes up there but most of it is really necky stuff.

Steve Backshall (Shutterstock)
Steve Backshall (Shutterstock)

When would you say you’ve been the most nervous when facing an expedition?
It would be last year. I did an expedition to climb Mount Asgard in Baffin Island in the Arctic. I genuinely didn’t know if it was going to be beyond me.

Would there be a trek-able mountain that you’d recommend as a good starting point for beginners?
An awful lot of people start off with Snowdon in Wales. Crib Goch is one of the most inspiring scrambles in the whole country. Perhaps moving up to the Cuillin Ridge on the Isle of Skye, which is just the closest thing to a big alpine route we have in the UK. But there are plenty more in between!

In terms of someone actually wanting to learn the basics of mountaineering, where would you suggest to start?
In the UK, your best bet is to go to places such as Plas Y Brenin or the Cairngorms – I like Fort William – where there are long-standing centres that can help you on your way. People that start off with British winter mountaineering end up tough because the conditions here can be horrid.

If you’re looking for something a little bit more user-friendly, the four-night glacier courses in the Alps give you a really grounded introduction to mountaineering but with a much bigger chance that you are going to be in blue skies and sunshine for most of it – that is much more appealing.

What about an achievable starting point for a glacier?
In places like Alaska, you can get up onto the glaciers extraordinarily easy; all of the crevasses are visible and evident, so you’re not just going to tumble down into one.

Are there any peaks on your list that you still want to bag?
My problem's always been time. An 8,000m mountain is two months minimum – most people take three to do Everest – so that’s a lot of time to find in a year when I’m already doing two or three expeditions, writing two books, doing a Masters and blah-de-blah-de-blah. But yes, I’ve still got loads of big objectives.

When you pack, what’s the first thing that goes in your backpack?
It depends on the environment. Probably the two things I always take with me no matter where I go are superglue, which is terrific not just for gluing stuff but it is also good for covering blisters and small cuts and things like that. I also take a bandana, which can be used as a neck scarf to keep off the sun, a sweatband or can be wrapped around your hand to pick up a super-hot pot.

You’ve had some amazing wildlife experiences – what would be the highlight for you?
Probably I would say diving beneath a jade green Antarctic glacier with a female leopard seal flashing her teeth into my camera.

You mentioned the sharks earlier: you were bitten by one?!
I was deliberately inside a shark-feeding frenzy of 11 sharks trying to film the moment of their bite. I had a chunk of fish in my hand and the shark took the fish and my whole hand as well and swam off with me. I was wearing chainmail underneath my wetsuit so I didn’t suffer any injuries whatsoever. As soon as the shark realised that it had dragged far more than it could chew, it dropped me and let me go.

You don’t suffer being bored very well. How do you cope with long-haul travel?
The main way I cope is by writing. I write almost all of my books while I’m away – while I’m on long-haul flights, long drives –  and that definitely keeps me occupied.

And of course you travel in your down-time too...
The second I have time off I’m straight back doing these things for pleasure. I am so lucky I get to do these things both for a living and for fun.

You once hitchhiked the USA?
Yes! That seems like many many years ago now. Many crazy things happened but it was nothing like the kind of Kerouac dream that I’d hoped for. I did end up in an awful lot of redneck-nowhere towns with an abundance of Dairy Queens and Burger Kings.

I ended up looking around going, ‘Really, is this it?!’ The thing about hitch-hiking in the States is that the local people are rarely driving to the places you want to go as a tourist – they’re driving to towns, and most towns in the States are pretty crap really!

You spent a year in Japan? What’s your non-touristy recommendation?
Yakushima Island in the extreme south, which is characterised by the most incredible green forests with huge trees with fabulous wildlife: beautiful birds, great frogs and snakes. Also the Japanese macaques that wash their potatoes in the sea before they eat them! It’s very different from what most people’s idea of Japan is.

You were also a guidebook writer – everyone assumes it’s a bit of a jolly?
That was my first proper job, writing for Rough Guides. You basically make your living from royalties so the whole process beforehand you do on your time and on your money. I never made a penny out of writing guidebooks. It was great for building my skills, but financially it was an absolute disaster.

It was funny to hear you say that when you worked for the Really Wild Show, you were basically homeless and camping.

Yes I was! I still spend a hefty proportion of every year under canvas; I have no big problem with that at all. But when it’s in a city and you’re cycling to work everyday and you’re wondering whether your tent is going to still be there when you get back, it’s a little bit different.

What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned over the years?
To trust my own judgement. I’ve been doing this for a long time and usually if I think a story is going to be good, it good; if I think we’re not going to find an animal in a certain situation, we won’t find it. I’m learning that if I have my Spidey Sense tingling, I’m always right.


Steve Backshall's new book Mountain: A Life on the Rocks (Orion, £18.99) is out now

Main image: Steve Backshall (Adam White)









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