Between City and Crag
A No Wasted Days™ Story
“No one in my family was outdoorsy,” says climber Clinton Thomas. “I was petrified of heights.” But when a climbing gym opened near his home in Northwest London, it was love at first climb. “For the first month, I climbed every single day—for like 8 hours. I loved it.”
The climbing gym became a second home: “I met an entire community. I challenged myself and people encouraged me. I worked out. I had fun.” And after a chance encounter at the gym took him to the crags rising above the English Channel, there was no turning back. “I was like, how have I been missing this my entire life?”
Now, nearly every Friday at 6am, with a backpack full of gear, endless amounts of psyche, and a cup of delicious coffee in hand, Clint leaves his home in Cricklewood. Driving his 1980s bamboo yellow VW Westfalia (named Winnie), he drives around London to pick up other weekend warriors for the long ride to the crag. As many as 48 weekends a year, this is what he does.
It’s a conscious effort—going outdoors. Saying, we’re going climbing. It means I never go to the pub on Friday nights or work on a weekend. I could have more money. I could have other things. But I choose to climb.
Driving 20,000 miles through England seems impossible. The longest road in the country is just 400 miles long and the narrow countryside roads are a mess of bends and winds, ups and downs. But for Clint, who’s dedicated to getting out to the crag every weekend, the miles are easy to rack up—especially when sharing the ride and experience with friends.
For Clint, climbing is another world where the noise and distractions of everyday life disappear—if only for a moment. Sharing this world of sea cliffs and climbs, blue sky and ocean surf, sends and falls with others brings him joy.
“I became known as the guy who goes outdoors every weekend and people want to join me.” From 12-year-old kids to 61-year-olds, beginners and experts, Clint brings them to the crag, sets up ropes, and lets them experience the magic of climbing.
And here, where white stone rises from the calm blue sea, climbing is not so much an activity as it is a state of being—a way to be fully present, a point of connection where the warm rock enters your body and soul alongside words of encouragement shouted by others. It’s a way to fill yourself with everything ephemeral—laughter, the ocean breeze, the way you grip a particular handhold. The joy of sending.
Whether it’s through the WhatsApp group that Clint’s apart of, his local climbing gym, or word of mouth, Clint’s weekend climbing trips are a way to be with nature and community. They create space for people to disconnect from the fast-paced hustle of London life, rejuvenate, and bring positivity back to the city. “When you get back from the weekend, you’re happy. You bring that joy with you and it changes other people.”
Of course, committing to going outdoors is hard work. And it can be scary. Clint, who began his climbing journey petrified of heights, knows this. But the fellowship that outdoor climbing brings allows people to face the challenges it—or life—presents.
“Sometimes I meet people who are stressed,” he says. “I tell them, you just need to come out and experience this.”
The city will always be there, yet with a tank full of gas and a crew of friends in tow there’s an entire world waiting at the end of the road—one that refreshes, awes, and inspires.
