Howsie and I made a hit list of crags to visit some two or was it three years back, the optimistic intention back then being to knock them off over the course of a year. Yesterday we had a big day out to tick one more of the list and at the rate we are going it’ll probably still be another year or two before we get to all of them. So in the dark of night we found ourselves on the road north heading to Perth, after probably not quite enough sleep:
We managed to negotiate the windy roads and many junctions that took us from the Roe Highway to the Darlington Estate with only one wrong turn. As such based on the estimation of travel time we were, as planned, walking in at first light. Parking off the narrow road was limited and there were already two cars there. As such we were a little surprised not to see anyone else and having the crag to ourselves, not that we were complaining about that:
It was about 45min to walk to the crag, maybe in part due to checking our location numerous times to make sure we were on the right path. A valley opened up to our east with a creekline that carved a progressively deeper valley the further south we wandered. Our eyes kept scanning the side of the track for the cairn that all available guides had mentioned. It was easy to see how people miss it as we only saw it went we looked back up the track:
Our destination today was the Darlington Boulders, not to be confused with the historic Darlington Boulders in the North Yorkshire, England. They finally started to appear after we descended down the side of the valley. The goat track eventually took us to a clearing were we set up ready for action. It was a cool crisp morning, but not too cold and the morning sun was on the face that we had decided to start the days adventures:
These boulders are stated to typify Perth climbing, so with having visited a few locations now you’d think we were prepared for the hard-as-nails granite. The main features on the slabs were cracks, many of which were shallow, flared and blind with crystals on every surface. This made placing gear tricky and while small wires were the go, and they were not always inspiring. This didn’t put us off and we soon ticked Fryaway and Andy Pandy (images above):
Next up was Pogue Mahone, a feisty bouldery start finally allowed Howsie to fiddle a couple of those very non-reassuring wires into a horizontal break. He then had to tentatively pad his way up the slab until he was above the wires, which is when we clipped the first bolt of the day. Much as it would be a nice idea to stick to trad, it would be very limiting here. We had both scoured the guide and had an idea of what we wanted to climb and so far we were on track:
The next and final line up the slab seemed to be severely over-graded. It didn’t take long to work past the initial and very cool bouldery start, then the middle of the slab was as it looked a cake walk. It was not until I had to make the moves over the final bulge that things got interesting, and I really wanted some good gear. With a statement that Steve had recently circulated round our group I found myself placing four wires to protect the last few moves:
The only one I had confidence in was the one below, the others comprised a half wire and two of my smallest RPs. It was not very reassuring as I would take a two plus meter fall on them if I didn’t manage the chicken wing moves up the very shallow seam while padding my feet on the flat slab, relying on nothing by friction. The rock certainly provided lots of friction, and it was a case of getting used to a style of climbing that we really don’t encounter in the South West:
After Teddy, it was time to hit a Fist Full of Friends. It was for this and one other route that we had brought as much gear as we had. A rare opportunity of a fist sized jam crack, that promised to chew up lots of cams of a similar size. So we had come prepared with a double set of cams, as well as hexes. Much as the line looked stellar but I was happy to give Howsie the lead, as I do get out a lot more and I know there are some fine jam crack awaiting me on the south coast:
The start proved to be everything we had hoped. Great deep jamming on solid rock. We were wondering if the course granite would rip our hands and forearms. Strangely however all of the jamming proved to be very secure and comfortable, and that comes from two people who really are not that good at jamming. Unfortunately after the first brilliant section the need for jamming disappeared and so while still fun the line didn’t live up to the hype:
It was then time for some Irish Stew, the first full sport line. It followed an arête and was impossible to read from the bottom. The first bolt looked crazily high considering the landing, but this deceptive line was brilliant. It kept you guessing the whole way up, with no real rests but if you were brave enough to keep moving it would give you just enough to keep hanging on. It was a line both of us thought was one of the best:
Knowing it was going to be a big day we had brought a hearty fest for lunch, plus a stove so we could make a cuppa . The idea being to make sure we paced ourselves and didn’t burn out. Having bagged six fun lines the morning was almost gone by the time we sat down for a snack. It however seemed too early to have lunch seeing we had had some breaky on the road. So after a relax, nibble and rehydrating ourselves we packed up to move onto the next boulder:
Most of the lines are located in one area but there are a few more boulders spread around the valley side. It wouldn’t have been right if we didn’t go and have a look at the Slot Machine, it appealed to both of us being a top to bottom crack. The bottom moves provided great finger locks, if your fingers like mine were small enough. After that the crack closed up and holds became more like small side pulls and the gear became non-existent:
Howsie was keen to bag this one and he was at the above spot for a long time working the gear and trying to sus out the next moves. The small wires were worse than those on Teddy, while the moves above were steeper, looked harder and went on for longer. He was there for ages to the point he opened up his knee before deciding it was too risky. So we set up a top rope and managed to climb it clean, whether we would have led it ground up we will never know:
It was then time to head to the slabs on the other side of the valley. So we shouldered our packs followed the goat track down and bashed a path up the other side. The granite here had a smoother texture. The black rock still had great friction but without the same protruding crystals. There were more edges and while there were a couple of trad and mixed lines, most were full sport. With a name like Bongo Man we just had to climb it, so that’s where we started:
I do like a good slab climb and so with renewed energy ate up the first few lines. Wild Honey Pie was a little strange as you had to zig zag a bit to get up but good fun. With relatively new looking bolts clipped there was not the same level of nervousness we had on some of the sketchy wire placements from the morning. The guide suggests climbing here in the morning, before retreating to the boulders and we had duly ignored that knowing better:
When I jumped on Captain Funkmaker’s Hot Pink Acid Jazz Dream I found out why we should have maybe done as suggested. The sun was poking it’s rays over the top of the slab making it impossible to see where to go. A thin crimping slab is not the place you want to let go with one hand to shield your eyes from the sun, so there were a few moments where I just had to trust I would find something and keep moving. We came off this line feeling our feet and fingertips:
As the sun moved round the real reason to climb here in the morning came into play, the heat started to rise and on such a clear still day there was no breeze to help keep the temperature down. So we had a choice, stop for some food and stay late or motor on for a couple more lines before our finger tips and feet forced us to stop. We went with the former and Howsie jumped on the very fun Turpentine, this and the former line were made more exciting as it had carrots:
We had no choice but to bag one more line, shame, as we had to retrieve a couple of draws. So off I set off on Lucky Legs, finishing the slab climbing as we had started it with tiny slab holds and friction moves. Every climb on the slabs was good fun and despite our tiring and hurting bodies this last line was equally enjoyable. When we got down there was one last line Howsie had on his list, he looked up at it longingly:
Then decided on the sensible option, leaving it along with a few others (including leading the Slot Machine) for a return trip. We had packed way too much gear and next time we would have a better idea of what we do and don’t need, so can travel lighter. It’ll be worth it as while it is not a massive walk in and out there are a number of steep sections and with a heavy pack our legs were burning:
After another bush bash to the creekline we found a way up the other side that was much clearer, so next time we know a better way in. The slabs on the western side were visually stunning being streaked black and cream. They dropped down into the valley with the Eastern Slabs clearly visible and the valley dropping down even further as it snaked round the corner. From here we could spy a number of other boulders, as yet unrecorded and maybe unexplored:
It was about 45min to get back, the walk up the valley side and the return hills certainly took their toll. All was forgiven though due to the great tranquil location, fun climbing and the amazing chorus of red and white tailed cockatoos that awaited us as we traversed the last leg of the walk. We managed to avoid the honky nuts that were being dropped from above, as the trees above were alive with these majestic birds and we lost count of how many we saw:
Back at the car we finally made use of what we had hauled in and out, the kettle went on and two hearty wraps were hungrily devoured. The tea along with more snacks kept us going the whole way home, and two and half hour later I had dropped Howsie home in time to tuck his boys up in bed and read them a bedtime story. I then made my way home as the sun lit up the sky for the last time on another great day:
Sandbagged 