Inside the shadowed, stomach-churning world of night climbing

The time is 1:32am. Oxford’s streets have long emptied. I’m alone under a crescent moon. Waiting. Something scuttles over the slate rooftops towering above me. I take off along the cobbled streets, winding through tight alleyways as my eyes scan the night sky. 

I’m on the lookout for the Oxford Night Climbers. A daring group of nocturnal traceurs who lay claim to the rooftops across the city. Catching a glimpse of this elusive collective is like striking upon gold. 

While slowly making myself nauseous, as I twist and turn on uneven pavement, I can’t help but be grateful that I’m down on solid ground, rather than up among Oxford’s iconic, yet precarious, ​‘dreaming spires’. Then, just as I careen around a corner, my eyes are drawn to a group of four shadowy figures perched atop the summit of a college rooftop. It’s the people that I am searching for.

The Night Climbers are a secretive society from the University of Oxford who transform the city into their own urban playground while the city is fast asleep. Dancing along the rooftops, these members have become experts at buildering’s (ropeless climbing of man-made structures and buildings) after dark cousin. Without ropes and safety equipment, the sport – or parkour de nuit (night parkour) – is the act of scaling buildings and other urban architecture while submerged in darkness. 

It’s not for the faint-hearted. The consequences of a mistake are severe, yet the payoff is euphoric. ​“You realise that you’ve entered a rare form of solitude, one that spawned due to your trials and tribulations alone,” Ben* tells me. ​“You begin to realise that there are very few predecessors who have stood where you now stand, and perhaps you might be the forerunner. You feel blessed, as if you share their story in some way, as if you’ve stepped outside of time and can speak across centuries.” 

Night climbing has taken a particular hold in Oxford. Its roots stretch back to the 1930s, when rogue members of the Oxford University Mountaineering Club first ventured onto the college rooftops. Early students would scale walls to access their colleges and dorms after curfew, treading the line between a great story and potential rustication (an Oxford University term meaning temporary suspension or expulsion). Particularly ambitious students would even summit buildings to ​“acquire” weathervanes from landmarks, such as the Christopher Wren sundial at All Souls College. 

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Some 95 years on the society has preserved, operating with a strict code and respect for the environments its members trek across. ​“Leave no trace is our policy,” Will* explains. ​“This means that we don’t interfere with the architecture in any form. Surfaces are only scaled and traversed, so long as they cannot be damaged. A rule worth abiding by, especially when you decide to free solo above unforgiving concrete.”

Given that one wrong move could mean a night in the nearby John Radcliffe Hospital, it’s fair to say that the group consists of some of the best traceurs around. Not only do they need a photographic knowledge of the optimal routes along college walls, spires, and rooftops, but they must be quick thinking and sharp. The society makes clear that every member must be laser focused at all times to successfully monitor pedestrian traffic, manage environmental factors, remain alert for authorities, communicate effectively with their team, adapt routes on the fly, and remain calm in high-stakes situations. ​“We’ve had a fair few brushes with college authorities over the years, and I think our unwavering wit during the crux of these moments has allowed us to come out on top each time,” Will continues. 

Then there’s arguably the greatest challenge of all. Fear. When balancing along the exposed spine of a university building, etching ever closer to a roof gap you need to clear, anxiety inevitably creeps up. Just because they routinely venture onto roofs at twilight doesn’t mean they’re immune to being terrified. In their own words: ​“There are only two types of people who don’t feel fear when they look over their shoulder, down at the yellow-lit cobbled stone below, with a cast-iron drainpipe dividing them between the floor. Liars and madmen.” 

What makes a Night Climber particularly adept at the craft is their willingness to train day in, day out, until their confidence outweighs their self-apprehension. ​“It’s safe to say that Night Climbers feel the same level of fear as everyone else,” says Will. ​“We just have a more refined understanding of when we should walk away, and when we should commit.” 

Witnessing them glide along the razor-thin college rooftops, I can’t help but gawk and wonder how many hours of training they subject themselves to behind closed doors. When operating at such a high level, night climbing demands total discipline and care. 

“You don’t just pick out a nocturnal ascent like throwing a dart on a map,” Ben says. ​“In some incidents, even the most seasoned Night Climbers have built meticulous training programmes, designed specifically for the movement patterns they’ll utilise during that particular climb, only to walk away at the last minute.” 

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Back on solid ground, the thought of exploring a city’s upper limits under the shroud of darkness feels farfetched. Yet over recent years, the appeal of night climbing has grown in the UK and internationally, with veteran traceurs helping beginners venture into the dark. As well as Oxford, Cambridge has also has a prominent night climbing society dating back over a century, while urban climbers even scale the tallest buildings in London, Dubai and other skyscraper-hosting cities around the world.

Dan Edwardes, CEO of Parkour Generations, has been running introductory and advanced night climbing courses in London for well over a decade. His goal is to introduce budding explorers to navigate the concrete jungle while the city sleeps. ​“It’s a personal development discipline,” he says, ​“but also [gives you] strength and confidence.” 

Parkour has always been an interdisciplinary practice, training the mind just as much as the body, and night climbing is no different. When the pavement constantly looms below, it serves as a reminder that there is little room for failure, and Edwardes believes that successfully traversing rooftops can help build resilience. ​“The founding group called themselves Yamakasi, a Lingala word that means strong mind, strong body, strong spirit,” he explains. ​“So, it’s about this idea of being a strong person. Physically, mentally, spiritually and ethically.”

In our hyperconnected world, full of instant messaging and a never-ending stream of digital content, retreating to the rooftops for a moment of solitude and tranquillity serves as an antidote. ​“There’s something rare and special about moving through a city at night,” says Edwardes. ​“Most people are asleep and the whole world feels like it’s yours and yours alone.”

“For myself personally, scaling buildings at night is an experience unlike any other – both exhilarating and deeply introspective,” Night Climber Ben tells me. ​“The world below starts to fade away, and all that exists is your movement, the texture of the granulated stone, or the cast iron beneath your fingertips, accompanied only by the rhythmic sound of your breath. Every grip, every step, every calculated shift in weight requires absolute focus. You’re balancing on the blade of perfection.”

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As an outsider, it’s easy to romanticise the Oxford Night Climbers and their nocturnal escapades. Their ascents and traverses through the spires tow the line between a Batman impersonation and a ticket to neighbourhood watch’s most wanted. ​“Some see us as romantic rogues, others see us as troublesome trespassers,” Ben chuckles. ​“The scrutiny, though, is part of the tradition. Every generation of Night Climbers has faced it, whether from the college authorities, the press, or the student body.” 

And it’s this rebellion that’s part of the sport’s shadowy allure. ​“We’re supposed to be seen as outlaws, it’s what attracts so many to our exploits in the first place.” he continues. ​“This very notion also reminds successive generations of climbers to tread carefully, to remain unseen, and to uphold the principles that have guided the society for decades.”

So, next time you’re wandering the streets well past your bedtime, take a moment to look up. You never know who might be looking back. 

Writer’s note: Please do heed the Night Climbers’ words, ​‘tread carefully’. The group are well-trained experts with rich experience, or even careers in parkour and mountaineering. If you are thinking of taking part, speak to a professional first. It’s what a true night climber would do. 

*All names of the Oxford Night Climbers have been changed for anonymity reasons.

Sam Mumford is a freelance journalist. Follow him on LinkedIn.

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