AMC Outdoors, July/August 2007

Phase Three – The Corona
This pearly white crown of light shines in all directions around the darkened solar disk. A million times fainter than the sun itself, the full glory of the corona is visible only during a total solar eclipse. Wispy plumes and streamers of coronal light reach out distances up to several diameters of the sun before they fade into darkness.

1989-2007
When Al Stebbins began climbing with Bill in the 1980s, Bill was thought of as one of the local “hard men” for his strong abilities. Climbing with him in the Gunks a few years back, Al remembers running into Bill’s climbing compatriots from the ’50s. “Bill asked what they were doing,” he says, “and they replied, ‘Revisiting the scenes of our youth.’ Then they asked Bill what he was doing, and he replied, ‘Climbing!’”

Bill’s career continued on longer than most and only in the late years seemed to reach its full potential. He holds the title as the oldest climber to ascend New England’s difficult Black Dike ice climb. He also scaled the Alps for the first time in his sixties with Paul Dale. Bill’s enthusiastic spirit failed to wane with age. After climbing Le Miroir D’Argentine in Villars, Switzerland, in a rainstorm, Bill and Paul hit a local fine dining establishment to imbibe while “shivering in our wet pants and sodden socks.” According to Bill, about the only things that have changed over the years are the gear, the faces, and the number of pretty young ladies who will flirt with him.

While Bill no longer does pull-ups religiously every day like he once did, he still has his pull-up bar at the ready over his bed. And though he no longer leads anything higher than a 5.6, he is still building steadily on his climbing career. In April, he climbed at Smith Rock in Oregon. In May, he headed out to the Gunks to climb and teach 75 beginners in an AMC course. He climbs with his granddaughter, and still tinkers around the house, making kinetic sculptures for his daughter, emailing World War II buddies on his computer, and restoring Ken Henderson’s climbing films from the 1920s and ’30s. He isn’t giving up anything to age yet. “Most of my friends are climbers and most are younger than me,” he jokes. “It bodes well as you get older. That way you don’t all die at the same time.”

His presence is welcomed in the climbing circles he continues to frequent. “The Harvard Mountaineering Club thinks I’m the Old Man of the Club,” he says. “They expect me to come and bring a bottle of sherry to each meeting.” In 2006 AMC’s Boston Chapter honored Bill with “The 50 Years Award” for his more than five decades of climbing experience and 40-plus years introducing the sport to new members. The American Alpine Club awarded him the Angelo Heilprin Citation for his 11 years of service as New England’s section chair. (Bill received the award the same year his former climbing student, Henry Barber, received the nation’s highest honor for climbing achievement.) And at his annual New Year’s Eve party a few years back, guests ranging in age from 18 to 90 shared stories and first impressions of their host. “I was blown away by the number of people there, and the appreciation they felt for everything he’d taught them,” Holley says, “his spirit and sense of humor, his quirky generosity.”

Stories of Bill abound. Whether from his fantastic feats, triumph over age, climbing onto the kitchen table at his 80th party to blow out the candles, or showing up to an alpine club dinner after hip replacement surgery with a beer holder jerry-rigged to his crutches, Bill’s influence on the sport, and the New England climbing community in general, cannot be overstated. “Bill is, and has been, a lot of things,” Al says. “He is an engineer, a lover of history, a wit, an astronomer, an airman in the greatest war mankind has ever seen, a first class all-around climber, and a friend and mentor to generations of Boston climbers. And certainly one to me.”

“Climbing has changed my life tremendously,” Bill says. In some ways, perhaps he has reached his total eclipse and is starting to return to the normal light of day. He has very few regrets—wishing he’d climbed in the Alps sooner or spent more time in the Dolomites without rain. Mostly, he’s content with all he’s done. But growing older has never daunted Bill. No one would be surprised if he hasn’t peaked at his corona quite yet.

- Amy Vanharen

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