Aging

Craig recently had a big birthday, and as is tradition our presents to each other comprises getting out climbing.  The weekend before his actual birthday we opened up our house for a daytime BBQ and bit of a boulder.  Once he had celebrated this milestone with a quiet gathering of his family and close friends, it was time for stage two and being a special birthday we went somewhere equally special.  So last Friday afternoon we headed out and were still driving as the moon rose, giving us a sneaky peak before it was hidden once more behind the clouds:

We arrived at our destination about 8pm and set up camp (i.e. put the tent up) and hit the sack.  There really wasn’t much to see at that time of night.  When we arrived we had done a quick lap of the area to check a few camp spots.  We found only two other parties already set up.  So we sought out a spot half way between both of them which was far enough away and out of sight.  After all there is no need to gate crash on someone else’s peace when there is so much space.  An hour after we had settle down I heard it, the pitter-patter of rain on the tent, then it bucketed down and the winds howled on high:

I was up at six making a brew and pulling gear out of the back of the car, pleased to see a clear sky.  Despite the heavy rain the only real sign was the soppy tent, the ground wasn’t too bad no worse than a the usual winter’s dew.  The clear sky did however mean it was chilly and added to that the wind was still about, although thankful it wasn’t as strong as the night before.  Craig crawled out of the tent, after one of the longest and very much needed sleeps he could remember.  He hadn’t even been woken up by the rain and wind during the night:

With a cuppa in hand we made our way to the customary rock to watch the sunrise.  It was, as it always has been, a glorious sight.  Brown Lake was looking pretty full not the usual bright white you would expect from a salt lake.  They say the coldest part of the day is just as the sun rises, and we certainly hoped so as it was pretty chilly.  That said Craig would probably use stronger and more pronounced language, but after all it is still winter so what do you expect.  Back at the car we got breakfast going and then made a second cup of tea to take up with us:

It was a lazy start, two hours since I had been up before we made the short trudge up to the rocks to climb.  We hadn’t been able to send a message home this morning, as despite having a fully charged phone last night the cold morning had tricked the technology into thinking the battery was dead.  While Craig’s phone was unable to find any reception, despite using the same service provider mine does.  No matter, it was time to climb on the wonderful smooth granite of Eaglestone Rock.  It’s a five and half hour drive (if you don’t stop) and it is worth it:

We started on the easier lines and also on the sunny side.  The images make this morning look like a wonderfully sunny and warm star t to the day.  Looks can however be very deceptive, and the only saving grace being that the rock wasn’t completely cold due to a week or more of sunshine having warmed it up from the inside.  I’d taken my really warm hat and it followed me up every climb that day, and took the place of my helmet as soon as I was safe.  On top of the granite domes there was no protection from the bracing wind:

It was been a while since Craig has climbed, even longer since he has been away for a trip to climb.  The last trip had in fact been in April 18 to Angwin Peak, with Howsie.  As such Craig wasn’t in leading mode and was happy for me to bag a few early leads before he saw how he felt.  I’d already prepared myself for a relatively slow pace, but when you have all a day and are so close to the climbing it doesn’t really matter if you slow things down a bit.  The third climb in and he was still keen to go second, and it was only then that we saw anyone else:

I came here during Easter this year with Rongy and Wiggins, a very much last minute decision my part, but it was so much fun.  Being Easter it was humming I’d guess some 30 climbers and plenty of families and people just chilling in the bush.  This time there were two other parties, a group of three and another of four and while we bumped into each other we also managed to find places when it felt like there was no one else about.  The good news about having others present, was being able to confirm that I hadn’t dreamed the weather the night before:

Climb number four and we moved back to the sunny side, as Craig’s toes and fingers had suffered while I climbed in the sun and he had belayed in the shade in a gully through which the wind was whistling.  This line was one we had talked about a bit earlier and I could see he liked the look of it.  So I gently encouraged him to have a bash, and so he did.  Unlike the way I like to climb, i.e. static, he jumped for the first holds and caught them.  From there he settle down and did a great job leading this fun line, including the ridiculous runout on the final slab:

Four routes in, not a bad start so we started to head down the hill for a spot of food and another cuppa.  As we went down we passed a line that I hadn’t been able to get clean on the last trip, and so had another bash.  It is very different from any of the other lines I have done here, the start is slightly overhung and with mostly smears for feet so you really hang on your arms.  I managed to clip the second bolt and then once again failed to get the next move, even Craig with his crazy ape index said that the move was very reachy:

Time for food, and back down at camp.  Wraps and a another hot cuppa was the perfect tonic.  There was again no rushing and we spent a long hour chilling out and recouping.  Craig got feeling back to toes and fingers, remarking how he has never had this issue before.  Maybe it is simple a sign of getting old, I’m however lucky and don’t seem to feel the cold as much as others.  My phone too had warmed up and strangely bounced straight back up to full charge allowing us to say good morning to our better half’s:

Refreshed and raring to go, round two started with a bang.  Last trip there was a route that Rongy, Wiggins nor I attempted on the main face, but it looked intriguing.  The guide has it as a project, and I have just checked online and no one has written up that they have attempted it.  I can now understand why, the first clip was easy enough, then it took some working out how to get to the second bolt.  Once clipped there is a good narrow ledge for your feet, but nothing of note for your hands.  Moving up to and/or through the next sequence was simply impossible:

So I bailed on that after a number of failed attempts and instead went for a more sensible line that has a wonderful lower crack that gobbles up wires and then a fine featured slab.  We had decided that we would run up a few lines on the main face for the afternoon, which meant that Craig had to come up second with the rap rope.  Despite the rope on his back he managed another clean climb, he was certainly going very well for an aging fella.  With the sun on this mighty face the rock was feeling good, and we were able to block out the cold of the wind:

Now that I had Craig all fired up it was much easier to get him on the floppy end, and for his next challenge it was time to get back to real climbing basics.  This route is a full-on back and foot chimney, there is no other way to get up it.  It’s a bit of a grunt as you worm your way up the crevice, and it can feel pretty tiring.  I was half thinking that Craig may bail on this one but he stuck at it, and finally popped out of the chimney where things widen up and you can put weight back on your legs without being cramped up:

This was yet another mixed climb where the gear had to be taken, this time for the upper part.  Loads of fun indeed and just the ticket for Craig, putting him in just enough of an exposed position without making him freak out.  Next up however it was time to get serious… another route that had been eyed up on the last trip but seemed that bit improbable.  That it was not, but it took a couple of false starts just to get off the deck.  From the go it has nothing but razor blades for hands and feet until the high second bolt, completely awesome and so scary:

From atop the rock the view was really stunning, being late in winter the area had greened up.  Crops where in the fields, grass was in the camp area and below the scrubby trees patches of pink paper daisies could be seen.  In the morning they didn’t seem so pronounced but as the day warmed up and sun encouraged them to open up and set the ground ablaze with colour.  While I have seen this sight several time before, this time it was really special with a rich blend of colours.  Worth sitting on top for and putting up with the wind that continued to batter us:

Back down and we were back to normal going lead for lead.  This time Craig was going for the longest and steepest route he had attempted.  Not bad going seeing after what I had just dragged him up.  I thought he may be tiring now but despite managing a gripping clean ascent up the razorblades he was keen to keep going.  This line is more gentle but no less serious, the bolts are nicely spaced so you don’t lose any of that exposure and feel like you really deserve them when you get to them.  The old Craig was back:

While the sun beat down on us and we were still rugged up we noticed a distinct change in the temperature.  The mercury was once more going down.  Before his last climb we had chatted about what the thoughts were.  We agreed that rather than go down for another cuppa we would get two more lines in and then back to camp.  So with the thought of being out of the wind after one more climb I set off back up the wall.  Another fine climb, and another clean ascent by Craig.  Then it was time to clean the rap line and head down for the last time:

We made a brew and decided it was way too early to have dinner, so went for a wander to the lake.  The flowers under the trees were great a true blanket of colour, reminding me of our family spring camps to the Stirling Ranges.  Once on the lake the crusty and crunchy surface felt slightly spongy underfoot, water was expressing in-between the salt crusts, but we risked it and walked out quite a way.  Inspecting the large salt crystals, which made amazing patterns that at times looked like flowers:

Part of the lake was bound by granite, I hadn’t been to this part before.  The wind and rain has carved really funky shapes out of the rock.  Forming many overhangs, caves and also quite a few tunnels that you can crawl through and pop out on the ledges above.  We spent a fair bit of time checking out the formations and admiring the striking and contrasting colours of the granite, moss and water streaks.  The images just don’t do it justice and it is a place to go to in the early morning when the dawn light hits this area for better shots:

We scrambled back along the rocks to the camp.  Time to get a fire going, put the dinner on.  Thanks once again to Lisa for our scrumptious pre-prepared meal!  We then relaxed by the fire as the sun went to bed and allowed a blanket of stars to take over the sky above us.  There were no clouds about and the moon had not yet risen making for perfect start gazing conditions.  Eventfully the wood was burning down allowing the chill to take effect and we decided to hit the sack, I was hoping that tonight the rain wouldn’t come and keep at least me awake:

It was a peaceful night, and the only problem with going to sleep early is I wake up even earlier than normal.  I could say that the bright moon had tricked me into thinking that it was morning time, but I’ll make no excuse that I do love this time of the day even if other around are not quite ready for it.  So even before there was any hint of the dawn I had the kettle on and made use of a few surviving embers to get the fire roaring again.  It was a cold morning and Craig made himself comfy by the fire, while I got breakfast going:

It was certainly chilly and the hat and gloves were on, as was a fleece under my buffalo.  The good news however was that there was not a whisper of wind and that along with the blue sky promised warmer conditions than yesterday.  However, it was also the day we were heading home so unfortunately we were not going to get the full benefit of the warmth that the day promised.  Eager to get a climb or two in before we left we were soon fed, had a second cuppa ready for the crag and were walking up to the rock:

It was a bit difficult to decide which lines to start on, as we had hit the obvious warm up climbs the day before and I wasn’t so keen to jump on anything too tricky to start with.  So somehow, and I still don’t know how, I managed to convince Craig to set the mornings proceedings off.  It was a repeat climb from yesterday but this time he would go up on lead.  Maybe he is going a bit soft in his old age, as he gave into my not so subtle hints and just got on with it.  He starting in the shadows in search of the sun, making comments about the rock feeling cold:

On top he was well and truly out of the dark and in glorious sunshine with no wind.  Despite that his finger and toes were still giving him grief.  While being a good friend I left him to massage his own feet back to life.  It did however feel good to be in the sun and we let the warmth seep back into us admiring the view before heading down.  One of the other parties had left yesterday, the others had just woken up.  We could tell as smoke was rising from their camp, they were no doubt settling themselves round a toasty fire:

We however, kept going and this time moved back to the sunny side to take on a full trad line.  A very fine jam crack that in itself might seem short, but has some fine moves and can easily be extended into a good length by finishing along this traverse.  A couple of the jams in the initial peapod crack felt a bit ferocious this morning.  They had me working harder than I think they should have, as I attempted to find a stance on the smooth flared sides.  Craig seemed to make easier work of it, a positive sign that his extremities must have been feeling better:

There were still a few lines on the biggest face that we hadn’t hit, so I ran up one of them.  It really did feel like I ran up it, no sooner had I started than I was at the top.  I wasn’t purposely rushing the route but it just flowed, the movements felt really fluid.  Before you think I didn’t get a clean lead I better explain that like most of the climbs on this trip I set myself up to get better images by doing some weird and wonderful belay anchors, Craig was pleased about this as it said it slowed me down and gave him more of a breather:

It really is worth the effort, plus I have probably said many a time I like to watch the second come up.  Climbing is like a dance and when it is done well it is great to see.  Much of the climbing here lends itself well to the dance, the routes especially on this wall have great movements.  Craig was certainly in good form and I got a bunch of great images as he made his way up, any hint that he may be struggling, in pain or simply feeling old were not showing.  There were still a couple of the long routes on this face we hadn’t climbed but we left them for another trip:

Instead for the last line it was back to where we started, in the sun and a repeat of the first climb from yesterday.  This time Craig had to smear his way up to the first bolt with the rope hanging down below him.  It hadn’t been quite lead for lead this morning, but we both bagged two fine routes.  Craig made short work on this line, his digits had plentiful blood coursing through them now and he really lapped up the holds and positions.  One last sit atop taking in the stunning scenery before we had to make a move:

We threw everything in the car and headed out, as it was too early for more food and we still had some tea in the sippy mugs for the trip.  Driving out in daylight we could see the mighty Eaglestone Rock soon appear like a pimple in the landscape.  Then once on the open road we made a beeline for Bruce Rock, we had decided that we would check that place out, make some lunch and a cuppa, as well as sort the gear out.  After about an hour we rolled into the picnic area of the historic Bruce Rock one of the first settlements in the area:

It was a huge disappointment, the rock was a low flat mound of granite and the only remnants of the historic site of some of those early settlers in this area were two old wells.  The stonework of these were impressive however the ugly iron cages to stop people falling in, litter building up onto top of them, lack of signage or information about the family of area and barren nature of the carpark with no facilities seemed a big missed opportunity.  Still the stop gave us a chance to have a hearty feast and sort our gear out in the warm sun before we hit the road again:

Then it was time to put the car into cruise control on the long straight roads between the small Wheatbelt towns.  With hardly any other cars in sight it is a relaxing drive, watching the varied paddocks some in farrow, some with early green grain crops and others brightly lit up by the yellow of canola flowers.  The farm houses are scattered far apart, and all seemed to be surrounded by a graveyard of machinery in a vast range of conditions.  Like the historic Bruce Rock picnic area it seemed sad to see the original farming equipment lying about rusting away:

We got home in daylight, and so came to the end of yet another amazing trip.  Happy birthday Craig!