Climbing in the time of coronavirus: not quite as poetic as Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Countrywide, we have the two extremes of panic and denial going on around covid-19, neither of which are really justified. Lots of people are panicking because covid-19 is new and unknown. There’s no doubt that many other things will continue to be far more dangerous – climate change, poverty, family violence, driving, hell, lifestyle diseases lead to a huge number of preventable early deaths in Australia. People continue to refuse vaccination and can be rather lax at using condoms. All these things could kill us, but the risks are dealt with through normalisation and denial. Covid-19 is a long way off being normalised. It will be eventually. Most of us will get it at some point, a vaccine will be developed and life will go on. Until then, there’s a lot we don’t know about covid-19. We don’t have clear figures about how prevalent it really is, how contagious it is, or even rates of mortality. The different living conditions, populations, health facilities and management strategies of different countries all effect the outcomes we have seen. Between its frequently mild presentation and limited availability of testing, there could be a much larger reservoir of it out in the community than we know of.  Rates of mortality may be elevated by its presentation in countries where many people live in poor conditions with poor access to health services. Having said that, Italy is a modern western society, and its health service is overwhelmed. This again leads to increased mortality. As we are living longer, we have a large aging population particularly vulnerable to acute illness. I also dread to think of the impact if it gets into remote indigenous communities, who have high rates of pre-existing health conditions, crowded living conditions and very poor access to services.

Despite all of the uncertainties, one thing that has been clear that it is spreading exponentially. Australia is on track to have 1-2000 cases in another week. I don’t think we are going to prevent the spread of the virus. The sort of serious intervention, investment and support that was needed weeks ago in order to prevent it is the sort of action that is anathema to liberal governments, as is the health and social welfare action we should have had over the years that would have been made us more resilient to this. Instead we get told things to do as individuals. Self isolate (is quarantine a dirty word?). Take your annual leave to do so. What, casual workers haven't saved their meagre casual loading for a national crisis? Part time nurses, step up to fill the staffing shortage! (Yeah, right, like I'm going to work more to save Scotty's arse ...).  No wonder people are unwilling or unable to do this. No amount of good will is going to solve this problem. Welcome to the trainwreck that neoliberalist policies get us.

  

Climbers like to think of themselves as a healthy bunch, so it seems there’s a fair bit of complacency about covid-19 in our community. For most of us, it is quite reasonable to expect we will not suffer badly with the virus. But that doesn’t mean we should remain unconcerned about it. Some climbers are not as robust as they may seem. Some have chronic respiratory or heart conditions. Some are on immune suppressing drugs for conditions like rheumatoid arthritis or Chrone’s disease or after organ transplant. Some are recovering from cancer treatment or are just becoming older and more vulnerable despite their continued capacity to climb. You can’t really tell how strong someone’s immune system is just by looking at them. We don’t know if someone is going home from the crag to care for an elderly or sick friend or relative who may be vulnerable to serious complications if they become ill.

Climbing is actually a pretty good medium to spread bugs in. Covid-19 is transmitted via contact and droplets. This means that infected particles are heavy enough to fall to the ground within a metre or two. They aren’t airborne. So if you are two metres away from someone, you should be pretty safe. That’s easily breached in a crowded gym or even a busy crag. The virus can survive on surfaces, meaning every time you touch something, you may get some your hands. We don’t know how long covid-19 survives on surfaces, but studies of Middle East Respiratory Syndrome virus suggest it survived 60 minutes on surfaces. A lot of people can touch a door knob or climbing hold in 60 minutes. Of course, the skin is a great barrier, but you become infected when those organisms on your hands get into your mouth, nose or eyes.  How often to you put your gear, or your climbing partner’s gear in your mouth? We handle all our grotty, probably never been washed equipment, then scoff down a sandwich without a thought of washing our hands. How many other sweaty hands have caressed each hold you are using? I’d avoid the gym at the moment, but that’s no great sacrifice for me, as I haven’t been in one since about 1997. Now is a good time to start taking hand sanitiser to the gym and to the crag though. Put a generous dollop in your hand, rub vigorously together until dry, making sure you include thumbs, between fingers, finger nails and backs of hands.

Should we still go out climbing? I certainly will be, but remote and obscure crags have extra appeal at the moment. In consideration of the more vulnerable members of our community, don’t go out climbing if you are at all sick, or known to have been exposed to covid-19. If you are feeling well enough to do stuff, save your sanity with some solo or non-contact outdoor activities, like hiking, trail running, mountain biking, surfing. Well or unwell, quarantined or not, practice hand hygiene all the bloody time. Before touching stuff, after touching stuff, before eating, before and after blowing your nose … it starts to feel ridiculous, but ridiculous is best practice. When you are sick to death of washing your hands so much, sympathise with us poor nurses whose skin is basically falling apart from years of handwashing like this. If you are at gyms or busy crags, you are at more risk of exposure, so don’t spread your exposure to vulnerable people. It’s fine to take risks with yourself, not so fine to force those risks on other people. Ring Nan rather than visit. Leave a care package on her doorstep, but make sure you wash your hands before preparing and handling it.

You’ve got the climbing trip of a lifetime planned and you’re wondering whether to cancel? I guess we should be grateful that these are the hard decisions of our lives, because they could be so much worse. Check your travel insurance to see if they will cover cancellation in case a pandemic, or if your airline will change the dates of travel. Assess the risk of the country you’re are going to, or any transit countries. Check the travel information from the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade. Who knows what restrictions may end up in place for international travel? It looks suspiciously like it’s too late for travel restrictions to be of any use for Australia now, but our government does like the “strong border defence” lines. They are practiced at that. You might get out of the country, but face quarantine to come home, or be unable to enter your destination country. Planes are great places to spread illness, so you will inevitably be increasing your risk. If you have any chronic conditions that increase your risk of complications, think about it even harder.  If you do go, get immunised for everything you can before you go, stock pile your first aid kit with medications to relieve symptoms and antibiotics for secondary infection.  If you get sick, find yourself a comfy hotel, hole up in your room, order in food, minimise contagion, make sure the hotel knows to take precautions and lounge around until you recover. That is, if anywhere will let you stay there by that stage. Consider the possibility that you could get seriously ill in another country. Will your travel insurance cover you, and will that country be able to care for you? Is your trip worth the risks?

There’s no great reason to panic.  If this was ebola though, I’d be hiding out bush for the duration. Be sensibly cautious nevertheless. Practice scrupulous hand hygiene, choose less crowded places to go, avoid close contact with vulnerable people, and just stay home if you are sick or aware of an exposure to covid-19 until cleared. I’d love to take the social distancing advice as a chance to disappear somewhere with my bike for a few weeks, but sadly, I don’t think they mean nurses when they say please stay away.  For those of you who want to self isolate via climbing, may I recommend the Australia wide tour to repeat all of Greg Pritchard’s new routes?  I am certain that you will not find anyone with coronavirus on Greg’s new routes, and by the time you’ve managed to find them all,  if you ever get back out alive, we should have a vaccine. Bugger stocking up on toilet paper, though, make sure you have enough coffee, wine and chocolate. I’ve also got a supply of pop corn in case I get the pleasure of watching the capitalist system collapse around me.