The almost rock star

Back in time when we lived in Central Australia we used to work at Ooromina Homestead.  On one occasion a local film company was showing an American crew around.  They were scouting for rugged outback cliffs on which to shoot a car advert.  I can no longer remember which make of car it was, but the local fella thought I’d make a good candidate for the person scaling the cliffs to get back to their car.  Sadly nothing ever came of that, but today came a second chance to be on the other side of the lens:

I met Wiggings in Capel and as with his past films he wanted to record the whole adventure, and this meant attaching the camera to the car as we drove out of Capel.  Before we got to the highway we pulled over to take the camera off the car, and it was then he realised that the lens cap was nowhere to be found.  So we retraced our foot and tyre tracks back to the pub carpark, and as we drove out of capel a second time we spotted the lens half a kilometre away from where it had been no doubt fallen off the bonnet of the car.  So it was “take two” and we were back on the road:

The sky behind us was a mix of clear skies above with distant clouds, clouds which looked like the burning embers of a dying fire.  Back in the UK the old saying is “red sky at night shepherds delight, red sky in the morning shepherds warning”, I didn’t know till now but the original rhyme is an old maritime verse and it has been around for a couple of millennia.  This morning the skies were red, which meant that clear skies to the east were allowing the sun to light up the underside of moisture-bearing clouds.  The saying assumes that more potential rain clouds are coming in from the west:

We all know what assuming does, and after all who bothers with old folk lore when you have a weather forecast.  Both Wiggins and I had been checking it during the week and the morning was to be dry with only the very light chance of a very small sprinkle in the late afternoon.  The forecast was proving right as we turned onto gravel road of Wilyabrup Road.  We stopped here and the camera was mounted on the car one more time.  This time we made sure that the lens cap was placed somewhere safe.  As we drove in we saw plenty of roos in the adjacent paddocks, but none of them hopped out in front of us now that we wanted that to happen for the footage:

On the walk in things were looking good, no wind, a cool morning and dry conditions.  Then as we came over the crest of the Leeuwin ridge we saw what was coming.  Out to ocean and both north and south of our chosen destination there was a hazy look, which would normally only mean one thing.  Sure enough as we got within 100m of the crag rain started to fall, even by Craig’s standards.  Not only that but as we stood on the edge looking out the wind was obviously coming from the north straight down the coast.  While these conditions don’t faze me climbing wise they were certainly not the best conditions for filming:

I’d come prepared to top-rope solo, allowing Wiggins to run about and film the events.  It was also his first time of using his Wiral® LITE outdoors, which is a suspension cable system on which you can attach your camera.  The good thing with this system being that unlike drones it can be used in confined spaces and through trees.  We remained ever hopeful that the weather would clear up, so we agreed on the best place for him to set the cable up a choice predominately made to make sure we could avoid the wind (as much as possible):

I then set myself up with a few warm up lines running up Inner Space to start with.  Unfortunately it didn’t seem that optimism was going to win the day on this occasion and while the rain would ease off a bit, each time it came back in.  I’d done two laps on the first route and conditions were not looking great, so Wiggins understandably had not put his camera on the cable.  Seeing I was on top rope I simply moved the system across to Water Fall Second Folly and went for two more laps, hoping that by the time I’d come back up things might improve:

By now the whole face was wet and dripping.  For those that know the compact gneiss that forms Wilyabrup, a layered hybrid of granite and sedimentary rock, they will realise that it is not absorbent and any water makes those slopey holds pretty spicy.  That added to the steep headwall on which handholds are everything made the climbing extra exciting.  I needed to focus pretty hard to pull the last few moves.  While Wiggins didn’t want to get his fancy-pants camera gear wet there was always my trusty and beat-up point and shot, with which he caught some great images of me pulling faces as I focused on those last few moves:

With two climbs in the bag, no filming done, the cable system packed away and rain falling in every direction we were just about ready to pack up when I mentioned this climb as one I had my eye on.  Wiggins suggested I give it a go anyway, so off I set up Real Woman Accept It For What It Is.  A strange name and I have no idea of the history or whether it may be deemed sexist or not.  That said back in 1985 when it was put up I’m sure they didn’t worry about political correctness quite so much.  I’m not sure of anyone who has led this climb, the bottom half seems to have no gear and it is pretty steep and sustained:

My arms were burning as I topped out.  Wiggins then kindly reminded me of my self-proclaimed ethics of doing each route twice when I was top-roping, um… So back down I went for “take two”.  Truth be told the second lap is usually more comfortable for me and I even spotted a possible tri-cam placement in the lower wall that might make it a slightly more sane lead.  The top out is certainly protectable but pumpy and I wonder what it would feel like to be hanging on those holds while fiddling gear in.  One to ponder when conditions improve:

This climb would have been the perfect choice based on where the cable system was previously placed, and as it happened the sky had started to clear up after my two laps.  So we agreed that I’d take a rest while the system was set up for a second time, so we could get some footage.  Wiggins went back down Left Hand Crack to set up the anchor point for the cable, you may recall that being a line I’d been on during my last two trips to Wilyabrup.  Not today however as it is the low point of the shelf and as such was today running with water:

Next task was to run the cable to the second anchor point, he’s got a 50m and 100m cable so it can span quite a long distance.  While it may seem a difficult system to set up for these sorts of locations, bear in mind that it has been designed equally for dealing with those locations that drones just can’t go.  This was a relatively easy setup and he had things in place pretty quickly, fortunately he was using the yellow cable so you can see it in the image.  There is also a black cable which would be less obvious in footage when the camera angle can’t avoid the cable.

The final part being attaching the remote controlled pulley system, with camera attached.  By now my arms were feeling fully recovered and ready for action, and I had no concerns about the climb that scared me earlier today.  However, just as he placed the camera on the cable a few drops started to fall, the clouds moved in and that heavy greyness fell around us as the drops became more frequent and heavier.  Geez is it really summer, and what went wrong with the forecast?  Yet another “take two” as the camera went back in the bag and we decided once again to pack up:

This time we walked out, and as we did the sun came out and while it was only in patches it really did look like it might clear up.  We checked the weather forecast and that hadn’t changed at all, no rain predicted and no rain having been identified as having fell at the closets weather station.  We decided not to go back down but we did stop for a short while on the final part of the track back out.  The system was set up between two trees and I walked up and down the walk track with my pack on doing my best to act natural:

So while there will be no climbing footage from this trip at least Wiggins got to trial the system.  Next time the weather gods will hopefully be more considerate, the forecast might be more accurate or who knows we might put faith into the old folklore or just cross our fingers and go for it.