Is The Evolution of Indoor Bouldering Gyms CHANGING Climbing¿

As bouldering's popularity continues to rise, we're living in a golden age for indoor climbing spaces. We're spoilt for choice by a selection of ever bigger, newer, closer, cleaner, advanced facilities. Last month, we visited the newest bouldering gym in the country to find out what the forefront of this progression looks like. And the very next day, we stepped inside the oldest dedicated bouldering centre to compare the differences, similarities, and ultimately to understand how, and why, our indoor walls are changing. The UK has over 450 climbing walls. In London alone, there are 38 climbing gyms. But before there were so many, there was just one, the first of its kind. In fact, it's been nearly 40 years since the doors opened to Britain's first dedicated bouldering centre. We start our story where bouldering first took roots. An industrial canal-side unit which has been passed down through the trays from a pipe-bending factory to a kayak centre before, in 1986, a transition to a dedicated bouldering centre. This is Mile End Climbing Wall. Mile End is a sprawling gym that caters to bouldering and rope climbers alike, with all the hallmarks of climbing's roots as a fairly niche sport. To walk through Mile End, past the island and the historic boardroom, and through the breezeblock training room into the bonkers monkey house is to be transported to a time when climbing looked quite different. We were passing through a collection of spaces that felt hand-stitched together. It was like the climbing space had grown into its surroundings, like a forgotten building now alive with wildlife. Before sampling the blocks and chatting to the locals, Nathan and I started our visit by talking to Dean, who heads up Mile End Climbing Wall, or more specifically, the charity behind it. Hi, my name's Dean. I'm the CEO of Development Through Challenge, the charity that operates the Mile End Climbing Wall. The room we stood in, the monkey house, was definitely unlike any other modern bouldering space. It was the perfect place to start our tour, looking directly back in time to one of the original features of the bouldering gym. It's built in a way that a modern wall would not be built. All sorts of angles, all over the place. It's really old, and it's made of such thick plywood that it's so robust that it's withstood the test of time. I mean, back in 2010, I spent the Easter weekend with other staff filling it all in, filling in the screw holes, sanding it down and repainting it. This was previously the canoe room, did you say? Yes, so this used to have a swimming pool in it. So back in the 80s and early 90s, this whole space was a swimming pool where they used to practice canoe rolling or kayak rolling. And then there are rumours of really good pool parties in here, but that was before my time, I'm afraid. These pool parties Dean mentioned might seem a little out of the blue, but placed in context of how Mile End came to be, they start to make sense. Let's explain. We started, it wasn't even a climbing wall. We were a charity moved into this building in the 80s called North London Rescue Commando. They were a boat base and outdoor enthusiasts came and started taking local young people out on the canal. And bit by bit, because outdoor sports go hand in hand, they built a little climbing wall. And then the climbing went on the ascendancy and the climbing wall grew and grew and grew. And then people started coming along to what was known as the Mile End Climbing Wall, because it was a climbing wall in Mile End. These beginnings some 40 years ago gave Mile End a certain special aura from the moment you walk in. But the history of the building is told in other ways, too. The layout is unorthodox with a charm to it, but sometimes cramped. There's no shortage of wall angles and quite a few top out opportunities, which felt in keeping with the walls outdoor heritage. In the older spaces, you can see the height of the walls extends beyond where the routes are set. Before modern regulations, it was normal to climb this high. And incredibly, that would have been before floor matting that we use today. A few of the local climbers told me that they used to draw a gymnastic mat around the floor and place it below when they were climbing. But you might still end up descending a ladder or two to make it down after you reach the top. Even in walking from room to room, you really get a sense of where past meets present. There are places where change has been embraced, a new weights area and lifting racks for more modern training methods. But also markers of the foundations that allow previous generations of climbers to practice for traditional outdoor climbing. And then in here was a big traverse that went round and round. It was about 50 metres long and it was made just like this. And like, how are these? Is this what climbing holds? This is what they were like back in the day. How would these have been made? They were just moulded. And then these are real rocks that are set into concrete. And these were made so you can actually place gear in them. As someone who's been a devout climber for the best part of a decade, I feel like it's become less common to meet climbers dedicated to outdoor pursuits like traditional climbing, and more common to meet people who climb mainly indoors. But looking back further at the origins of these places, I pushed Dean to set the scene at Marlend. It became very much a climbers' wall. So it was for people who, I mean, we had a lot of schools and did a lot of youth work with the local community. But the climbers came and it was about people who climbed in the week because they wanted to go climbing at the weekend. So we used to close early on a Friday so that people could go off to the Peak District or somewhere and go bouldering or road climbing for the weekend. If the spaces we climb in have developed, so too has the gear and the kit that we rely on to climb with. We're happy to have this wall comparison sponsored by Rungny, who we've been working with in 2024. We've been using Rungny kit since last year and we love it for its performance and comfort. Though mag dust, high baller pants and lightweight clip-on chalk bags might have had these folks scratching their heads in the 80s. An interesting tidbit for you, chalk was not at all commonly used or accepted until at least the mid-1970s, being referred to by legendary climber John Gill as another form of direct aid and one I don't use. Having switched to mag dust since we started working with Rungny, we actually can't help but kind of agree that it does feel like cheating. Though we won't be stuffing it into trouser pockets like the climbers of old, we might instead opt for a Rungny chalk bag. This week, in collaboration with Rungny, you can receive 15% off Rungny chalk, t-shirts and apparel with code HANNAH15. And now back into the video. I felt Dean must, to some extent, feel the challenge of trying to meet differing expectations of seasoned veterans as well as those taking their first steps into the sport. We walked through a small corridor to a windowless training room with a wooden board that Dean was proud to tell us was revered by some of the country's strongest climbers. But surely, the largest climbing audience today is not the ultra-strong or the outdoor specialists, but a blossoming collection of newer recreational, hobbyist and social climbers. Outside, a canopy-covered section called the Secret Garden is perhaps part of the climbing wall that might feel most familiar to a new boulderer. There's a dedicated wall for competition-style problems, as well as a plywood circuit board. Here, I asked regular visitors about their relationship with Marlen Climbing Wall, the development of the space over time and how they got into the sport. Scrambling as a kid, then bouldering here. And my son is an instructor, or was an instructor, and then he took me outdoors. So he's doing this to try and keep up with his son so he can go climbing? Yeah, he takes me climbing and he makes me do really stupid things. Marlen certainly serves to prove that old dogs can learn new tricks. I'm not talking about Peter, but the creative routes throughout the centre. Peter was quick to mention that Marlen is known for interesting sequences across the grade range, with route-setting masterminded by setter Alex Lamel for the past few years. However, Peter was keen to demonstrate a blue slab in the hope that, via YouTube, the route-setters could appreciate his struggle with the final reach. And that's it. Peter welcoming the comments for Peter. And that's just cruel, in my opinion. The climbs have become much more interesting, actually, especially since they made this change to the grading system, where it used to be all the easy climbs were yellow and black. And now there might be any colour. Exactly, so you get a variety of types of holds across the grades. It was interesting to me that Peter mentioned his appreciation for development in the hold variety over time. For the oldest bouldering wall in the country, I had immediately noticed the modern hold selection when we walked in, which lends itself to a decidedly new school method of setting. Routes, and their grades, are of course an integral part of any climbing wall. When I first started climbing here, all our grades were done in British Trad grades. And so we've had to go with the modern times and change to V grades, and then we've moved on to a different grading system to meet the needs of the customers in the modern climbing centre. We are steeped in history, and we're very proud of our outdoor heritage, even though the modern climbing world is different. I think it's no secret that the makeup of communities who take part in climbing have changed dramatically recently, and Marland reflects that story. Originally a support act for outdoor climbing, indoor climbing is now the main act for many people. It's easier to access, all weather, and often accompanied by a nice cup of coffee. I bumped into Gabby, who started climbing socially. So I started climbing, well the first time I went climbing was like mid-January of this year. New visitors like Gabby are part of a rapid increase in bouldering's popularity. Over the last four years, walls in the UK have seen a 58% jump in average customer visits. Because my co-workers were like, Gabby come climbing with us, like they're obsessed with it. And then I told my dad about it. I was like, oh I went climbing. He was like, Gabby I've been wanting to go climbing for ages, how have you not told me, like I want to go climbing with you. And so we both went climbing together, got like super into it, we're going like three times a week. It was like crazy. What got Gabby hooked, and I know from my own experience, was likely a combination of the many needs that indoor bouldering spaces can satisfy. A place to socialise, a set of puzzles to solve, a mindful haven, and a physical outlet. And of course, a training ground for rock climbing. But in London alone, there are 38 bouldering gyms. So older walls like Myerlend are now part of a highly competitive market. I met Thomas, another relatively new climber, and I asked why Myerlend was his choice. I think mostly the community. Some people there have been coming for 10, 20 years, so it's really nice, especially after a while you learn to know all those people and to bond with all of them. I was fortunate enough to bump into one of Myerlend's original generation, Dave, a 74-year-old outdoor climber who asked not to be on camera. He was part of the community that Thomas talked about, and his welcome to new climbers seemed like a positive example of community mentorship. You know, I'm amongst the old generation, and frequently we've bumped into new people that have just started climbing, and we can see that they're struggling with a route, and we say, try it like this. We try to help out people that are starting, and other people help us as well. Try doing it like this. It's a very open and friendly kind of environment, I think, and a good place for new people to come to. I really wanted to know how Dave felt about the modernisation of Myerlend throughout his membership, which perhaps felt like it might have served to water down some of the centre's original focus. It was no longer dedicated solely to those we might call climbing purists, those adventure-seeking rock warriors with a strong sense of climbing's roots, but his outlook was forward-thinking. Like most of us, he enjoyed sharing our sport. You accept it and get on with it. And I just hope that they manage to keep the balance, maintaining this area. If it looks a bit grubby, then refurbish it, paint it, but please keep it. Dave pointed specifically towards the monkey house as one area he was still attached to, and how it kept Myerlend unique. Looking towards Edinburgh, I couldn't help but feel like a modern train would struggle, by definition, for a sense of this kind of individuality or personality. But in its place, had the climbing hangar found something different to help its members fall in love with climbing? I finished by asking Dean how he saw the future of the climbing wall industry. Well, the first thing is that climbing is still a relatively new sport. So, you know, I've seen it change massively. If you think we're coming up for 40 years old, and we were there right at the beginning, the people who were here, the people who were at these climbing centres back then, are the people who pioneered indoor climbing. And the industry, over the last 30, 40 years, has slowly begun to get professionalised. And the rise of the professional and commercial climbing wall is a really big thing that has happened in that time, because they weren't there before. A tad over 300 miles north of Myerlend, climbing wall, also situated in the type of industrial park that British climbers will be well familiar with, is the brand new The Climbing Hangar. It's the ninth offering from the largest chain of bouldering gyms in England, and it's the first to cross the border into Scotland. So 40 years on, how have bouldering walls changed? We are in the brand new Climbing Hangar in Edinburgh. This is opening this weekend, but we've managed to squeeze in just before opening to get a little preview of the space. And immediately walking in, I'm seeing kind of like the classic hangar vibe. With their experience creating climbing spaces, The Climbing Hangar have come about as close as you can to bottling up a climbing experience that's approachable, rewarding and social. The space is colourful and well lit, with eye-catching routes, and a fully equipped weights area, training board, stylish walkthroughs and a cafe that's worth a visit alone. It's a destination that might host a hardcore bouldering session on the Yellow Circuit, a social cuppa and a climb, or even a remote worker with an active lunch break. So before we get climbing, we are going to go and find Jed, who is the founder and CEO of The Climbing Hangar. I'm going to chat to him a little bit about what his experience has been as a wall owner. Jed, a self-confessed climbing obsessive, had founded the first Climbing Hangar in Liverpool in 2011. It's now a chain with over 10,000 monthly members who are constantly looking to innovate in the sector. So at the beginning, I started a bouldering wall with my friend Crispin, and we were climbers and we wanted to make a bouldering wall because we liked climbing, basically. I wanted to have my entire world filled with climbing, probably like most climbers, you know, just like, why do anything else? I found the thing that I like. Yeah, this is the thing. Yeah, yeah. From Jed's perspective, I was curious to understand what he felt was the biggest change that a climber from 30 years ago would notice if they stepped into a new climbing wall today. I think the very first thing that you'd notice, as just anybody off the street, is this looks like an ordinary, maybe ordinary is the right word, I suppose you should be more positive than that, but I mean, it looks like a sports facility. Like the reception desk, it's clean, there's air con, you know, there's like signage, there's fire escapes. Like, it's a compliant space that looks like a space that is used for sports. Jed initially pointed out what I suppose we might consider the impact of increasing regulations, but what was also possibly a signal of our sport becoming more professionalised and having new commercial success. Like from an industry perspective, the key thing I note is that, say for instance, that yellow boulder problem there is probably two and a half thousand pounds worth of holds on the wall to get a single boulder problem. The first hangar we spent £9,000 on holds for the entire centre. That's wild. Wild what? I still remember and I still have one of the holds on my desk. We bought a white circuit from Blurstone, from Rob Napier, who was one of the, at the time, he was the most amazing human being in climbing. And I spoke to him and I'm like, Rob, I'd like a circuit, right? And can you help me build one that's like 7a-ish that would be quite cool? And it cost £1,200. And at the time, that was a staggering amount of money. And that was a circuit of 20 boulder problems. That's one boulder problem, two and a half grand. I asked Jed to walk us through a few routes around the centre to get a sense of how routes were planned in a brand new gym. Personally, I've always admired the variety in the lower difficulty circuits at the climbing hangar. Yeah, if we get rid of this one, this probably demonstrates it really effectively. So the green climb, this is our second circuit. So the grey is like full introductory. That's like, it's a ladder. There is literally nothing other than doing this to get to the top because at the beginning, people just need to get to the top to understand, are they comfortable off the ground? As you start to get into this, you then kind of go, well, what concepts do we use to build a framework to move from green to orange? And then from orange, how do we build into blue and build that out? And we've got like quite a few metaphors and frameworks. We've even got a graph and so on because, you know, I'm nerdy. The consideration that Jed put into route setting was not just a niche obsession. It was clearly reflective of his wider approach to the customer experience, who those people are and how to meet their needs. So really what we're trying to do is make sure more than anything else that the first 50% of our circuits are much easier and the differences between them are lower. Once you're climbing white and yellows, you're basically in the game. You know that falling off is part of the fun. I felt the equal division between climbing routes targeting those seeking introduction to a new sport and those already indoctrinated touched on perhaps the biggest part of our story. The expansion of who it is that accesses climbing today compared with the past. And that today, climbing spaces play a different role in the sport and they serve a much wider set of groups. Of all of the things that I think have changed for the most progressive operators were making climbing easier to get into. And I think that's important to then come on to the customer. I was taught to climb by climbers. I went into a group of people who were all climbers and they basically curated my experience. They put me on scary things that were too hard, the classic sandbag experience. But they knew I was going to get up at that sort of thing and they took me to a variety of places. But the new climbers walking in off the street with their two mates who have never climbed before. So you don't have that expert guide, which once upon a time, they were the people that brought all of us that are in the industry now basically into climbing. In this sense, Jed clearly felt that a large responsibility for The Climbing Hunger is to be a welcoming space for new climbers, in some ways replacing the role of the sport's original architects. A lot of the changes in place at The Climbing Hunger, and also those embraced at Marlin Climbing, will link back to this bigger picture of how our sport is changing as it scales up. I asked Jed to set the scene for climbing eras gone by and what had come before. So yeah, so at the beginning, you've got a lot of like obsessives. And all of the customers are basically like you. So like the difference between the team and the user, if you like, is negligible. So it's overwhelmingly male, right? White, middle class, et cetera, the younger end. So the actual levels of like, you know, we'd say diversity now, but I suppose even just like difference. The people that went climbing were all from an identical tribe, more or less. Climbing was made by climbers for climbers with a worldview that was climbing. This was for outside, it was not for its own sake, right? It was training. You didn't think of it in terms of like fun or like a nice thing to do. There was social, the language would be familiar with now. Just like at Marlin, it seemed that indoor bouldering spaces were originally a means to an end. And that coloured nearly everything about how they operated. Your creation of the facility was like super focused, right? Because in the end, and I remember myself, you didn't care about anything other than the climbing. That was it. Like, and if the climbing was there, it didn't matter if it was cold, drafty, if it was leaking. There's still obviously, you know, plenty of our roofs still leak, you know, just big, big roofs seem to leak. You know, so in that sense, the ability to service the customer, if you like, or the climber was so easy because you just focused on the climbing. So then as you then think, okay, so there's movements, you know, there's different faces coming in and so on. What's happening here? So those people are not coming in with that same hyper focus, right? And you see that like you're talking with them. They're asking you a different set of questions, you know? So I remember when we stopped forcing brand new customers to wear really small high shoes. Jed was succinctly tapping into what I think is probably the greatest shift in how climbing and by effect our climbing spaces have changed. For a long time, squeezing into painful climbing shoes or shivering in a dusty basement had been seen almost as a rite of passage by climbing purists. Those first pioneers of our sport who had a really strong sense of what made a climber a climber. But now perhaps climbing is a more democratic space. It's harder for anyone to dictate those rules and many different groups of people have started to take their own meaning from climbing. The process still underway has not been without tension. I think there was for a long time, the response was, oh, you know, they're just not like into it. And there was that kind of like, they don't fit. And then after you get enough of it, you're like, oh, these people want to come and fit. What do we need to do? So you've got to meet them where they are. And I think that meeting the new customer where they are is that sort of the catalyst of where the change really started to come from. I suppose one criticism that you might level at places like the climbing hunger and investment fund backed chain is whether it's capitalising commercially on the sport, marketing to a new audience and in doing so eroding at some of the foundational values of the sport. But as Jeb points out, it's likely that cultural change is driving facility change and not the other way around. There are now new voices who are using climbing in a different way and they want to take it different places. It means something very different to them. The language around it is very different. So I think the evolution is much more cultural. And then the facilities have started to reflect the cultural evolution. I don't really think that the facilities have driven the cultural evolution. The trajectory of climbing over the last decade has been remarkable. When I started climbing 10 years ago, I had a choice between two local walls. And now that's a choice between five. I would watch YouTube and be fortunate enough to find a climbing film focused on women's ascents. I wondered why Jeb felt the industry would continue to move and how that tension between commercialisation, history and values might resolve. There's only so far we can go with being, we're not for everyone. We can't be for everyone and we shouldn't try to be for everyone because then you're like fairy liquid or something. You're a commodity. There isn't a soul or a concept to a commodity, right? So this can't become a gym. If it does become a gym, I think that's the beginning of the end for the industry. And that's the point where something else that contains those human elements that speak to us all, that connect us with others and make us feel part of something, something else, will then move in and take that space. Because climbing took that space from something else. So that commercialisation thing is, especially for someone like us, we're obviously expanding. We're a chain. We're investor-backed, right? So we've got to be like mega careful. But I've spent most of my life being relatively anti-corporate anyway, which is a constant crisis for me now. But anyway, let's not go down that rabbit hole. But then that's part of the design. It's like, well, how do you do this business in that well, where you are honouring those things that you feel to be sacred whilst trying to mirror what you're seeing and working with the demand profile and how culture is moving and changing. Here, I almost felt my island had a blessing, that its history gave the space a legitimacy and a connection between climbing as it was and as it is now. The Climbing Hunger, or any new wall on the other hand, clearly has the challenge to position itself carefully, cutting the line between honouring the origins of a sport for avid devotees and industry peers and yet delivering a package that's adapting to the different new communities who have discovered climbing recently. These are two very different spaces, but both shifting above the same tectonic plates. Our climbing spaces have to respond, plan and listen to the shifts as the people who take part in climbing changes.