We are lucky to have a mob of varied crags in the SW of Western Australia but there is only one crag that is fully trad with not one bolt in sight. Smiths Beach is a place I stumbled on in late 2010, at about the same time as Kym did, and promptly sieged the place lapping up ground-up on-sight first ascents on every trip during a blissful couple for months:
We’ve had a fairly dry and on occasion hot stint here so it was a little surprising to find the rock wet, and not the greasy wet that sea spray leaves but a clean rain type wet. Rain was forecast for later today but it seems that maybe there was a shower overnight as well. I’ve sent a few emails out about this place so this time have focused a little more on the landscape in the following images, so there won’t be as much reading (did I hear you say – phew {um now that I’ve finished it, maybe I lied}):
Howsie went first on the delightful The Drunken Sailor; a wide crack that has all the hall marks of Smiths with wide rounded cracks, slopey holds, (mostly) good gear and awesome friction even when wet. With just two of us you’ll have to excuse a few bum shots J. I was really hoping he was going to climb this line proper trad style and worm his way up the inside of the upper crack, but all our early before work sport climbing at Welly Dam took a little while to get out of his system:
We fully intended on having a pretty chilled morning session, just for fun and also a reprieve from the hard climbing we have been doing week in week out at Welly Dam. The grades never got to serious today but the climbing style was so very different making some of the routes feel that little bit more of a battle. Fortunately there is plenty of gear here and cams come in very handy as per this one, but why did I take the image I hear you ask. Look again and see if you can spot why (she/he wasn’t very happy):
I managed to get past him/her and ambled up this fine right slanting crack line of Seafood Extender, which made me smile all the more as it has the perfect sling placement. Being full trad I don’t think this place gets a lot of action and that compounded by being the end of winter meant that many of the breaks were a bit gritty. Easy to avoid but care was required not to shower the belayer too much:
We had picked the south’ish facing wall to get going on for several reasons. First it gets the early morning sun and when that hits it can get toasty, but probably more importantly it has some lower grade routes that are great to warm into the place. So as Howsie headed up The Crow’s Nest he worked his way into the sun as it climbed higher in the sky. This route has a wicked finale with an elephant’s arse finish that you have to really stretch to reach and blindly grope to find the best hold. Even with Howie’s ape index advantage it took him a few yo-yo’s before he committed, a bold and very cool on-sight lead by any standards:
As I belayed I look out across the bay and the boat launch at Canal Rocks was looking pretty empty. Not any great surprise, the ocean wasn’t looking the best and in the distance darker clouds were looming. It was just a question of when they would hit:
Glen and Lou recently visited this place and didn’t have the best of times. It’s short but pretty bold climbing and not for the light hearted or beginner. That however was not the only reason, they had attempted a route that you’ll see later and a 40cm long piece of an undercut flake came away and mashed Glen’s finger. There were claims of blood all over, and while we found no signs of it we did find the offending piece of rock that had split into two. We took the best looking piece back with us for Glen. Anyway the point of my rambling being that as I followed up a foothold crumbled away, which we only noticed when there was a loud crack as it hit the deck:
With the sun being on and off the south’ish face it was time to head to the north’ish face, with its more serious routes. I gave King Arthur a bash but, just like the first time I tried to put this route up in November 2010, the conditions had me scared and I ended up sneaking right at mid-height, which is a climb called Lady Guinevere. That said it was a great climb and once again we pondered on whether it had maybe been under-graded or whether it was just today’s conditions:
One of the things I love about this place is that everywhere you look there are great views. The rock features on each side of the zawn and even in close proximity to the zawn all seem to change in colour and features. The most aesthetic being the rounded windblown formations:
For his next lead it was to be Excalibur, and just to his left at waist height is where the undercut flake fell from. This is a fun climb but since I first put it up most people have taken the direct and slightly easier start (much to Glen’s peril) so it was satisfying to watch Howsie tackle the start as it had first been climbed. It certainly made him think a fair bit more, or was that just the wet rock and potential for more holds to fall away:
This is the south’ish facing wall of the zawn that we started on. The routes to the right are well protected following well featured cracks, but the routes on the left have far boulder starts. The blank lower wall isn’t much better as you get closer, for holds or gear, and the ramp below slopes down into the sea. Um ones to play on only during good conditions and certainly not today:
I was ready for the last climb of the day, and plumped for one I have shied away from ever since I put it up. It’s not that Sir Lancelot is untrustworthy but, Craig not sure if you remember this one, the gear at my feet is certainly dubious. I have not heard of anyone else attempt this climb as a fall from where I am could be nasty if that dubious wire did fail. The climbing is however lots of fun and with a cool head and a bit of breathing better gear can be reached just a bit further up. Needless to say I was smiling from ear to ear at the top of this one:
It was always intended to be a short session so with six very fun routes under our belt, and a few strangely nervous but very satisfying moments that you only really get when you trad climb, we scrambled out of the zawn. The rain had held off and continued to do so until mid-afternoon by which time we were back home:
One last image of a very funky home that we spied while walking out. It is probably an inch long and made up of tiny sticks stuck together in a way that created a great pattern. The silk thread at the top that was attaching it to the rock gave away that it was a cocoon, or so we think:
In a week’s time I’ll have a month or two break from climbing so you’ll get a rest from what has been a weekly update of my/our rock antics. Hopefully have excited and encouraged you to get out and about.
Sandbagged 