Pièce de résistance

The last time I caught up with Kym was just under a year ago, it was not for lack of trying but each successive attempt to get down was thwarted one way or another.  So after a long stint of mid to high thirty degree days I found myself driving down to Albany on Friday afternoon last week.  The temperature was above 37 the whole journey until approximately 30km from Albany, and as I rolled into Kym’s driveway it was a mere twenty four degrees, bliss!  I dumped my gear in the caravan and then caught up with Kym, Meg and the kids:

With three kids, Tessa, Claire and Beau, from five to less than a year old the mornings are pretty hectic in their house.  All three kids are early risers and full of beans, in fact Beau doesn’t sleep much at all and even when he does it is only for an hour or two, even overnight.  So not surprisingly our starts were not at the crack of dawn but we did get out at a reasonable time on the Saturday and headed for the Porongurup’s.  Just our luck it was due to rain today, but we were both keen and decided to just get out there and face whatever was thrown at us:

I’ve only climbed at Gibraltar Rock, the biggest monolith in the Porongurup’s, once and that was more than nine years back as I don’t have a trip report from it.  I recall the walk in and out being horrendous and I wasn’t looking forward to that.  But things have changed, and I found out the last time I approached the crag in a dumb way.  The fire break was wide and clear and when we got to the obvious stakes to mark the trail Kym went ahead just to make sure it was way to go.  The track through the bush was easy to follow and soon we were at the base:

The reason for the track being so easy now is that a new route was put up nine years back (after my first and only trip here) which has a sensible amount of bolts.  This has encouraged more people to come here to climb.  Most of the routes are long, runout and have a serious feel to them.  We were going to tackle a route that had a certain fear factor to it, but it had been recently rebolted and that encouraged us to give it a go.  Surrounded by tall trees there was a calm feel to the place, it was cloudy but dry and the winds were light:

Pitch one was a long rope stretching romp, nothing too hard or scary but good fun.  The route seemed to follow a strong natural line and this offered natural protection.  The second pitch was the choice pitch, and seeing Kym had not done any trad climbing since my last trip it seemed only fair to give him the primo pitch.  It is not to say he has not been climbing, he has done stacks of bouldering, and some really serious stuff.  So he was strong and technically in good shape, the question was whether he had the stamina for the long routes:

Now being a good natural line up an otherwise solid lump of granite, meant that this is where the water would naturally flow.  In fact without the water flowing down the line it probably wouldn’t exists.  The recent hot week had made sure the climb was bone dry, but with more regular moisture collecting in the crack year round it was also full of moss.  The start of the second pitch was a grovel up a body width peapod crack, with not much gear and plenty of moss that tumbled down as Kym knocked it off:

Eventually he exited the wide crack and was faced with the imposing steep finger crack.  It has been a while since he has had to trust natural protection and you could tell he was nervous, which was compounded by the initial gnarly wide crack.  So he took his time and as he got higher became more confident.  The crack continued to steepen to a little overhanging and the line continued to get more technical.  Smears for feet and long reaches to the next good hold, but not useable until you brushed the moss out, which kept tumbling down to me:

It was an epic 40m pitch, varied climbing and sustained.  The finger crack was not as good as it looked from below and on occasion was no more than fingertip deep and flared.  You had to layback this most of the way up smearing your feet on the left wall, occasionally finding a better bridging stance but ones that still made you work.  Part way up the crack there was a bomber placement and some previous climber had left a wire there, it was not stuck and we could lift it out.  It was however rusted so we left it for the next party (whenever that might be):

Pitch three was mine, and I was feeling pretty stuffed from that last one!  This is where the bolts came into play, the crack had blanked out, but to the left was a rising flake feature.  A blind and flared flake so no good for gear but OK to hang onto.  It required a super thin traverse to get across and then some awesome moves heading up the flake.  Kym had his phone and I had my camera and on occasion we seemed to take images at the same time.  It did mean that there will be more images of me than usual:

After the middle two pitches the next three were far easier.  Not quite a solo scramble as there were a couple of bolts for each 40m pitch just to make it that little bit sane.  The hardest part was belaying, either giving out or taking in rope fast enough to keep up with the climber.  We were well above the tree line and the huge trunks looked like matchsticks.  It was still cloudy, but the rain was holding off.  After six pitches we were on top, a quick drink and we were heading back down.  Usually one big route here is enough but we wanted to bag another:

So after taking on and climbing Joint Venture (20) we eyed up Raven (15), this was the line that had made the place more appealing to the less adventurous climbers.  Kym was involved in bolting this line and it was reputed to be the most protected line on the crag, with bolts being spaced at approx. 4m intervals.  The good thing about more climbers coming here was the track was in better condition, and during a recent rescue (for a stranded hiker) the emergency services like it so much that they GPS’d it and have put funds aside to maintain the track:

Raven was equally long but only had five pitches.  It started up a fun crack in which a skink was hiding.  I sat there patiently as it checked me out and decided it was best to move on.  After exiting the crack it proceeded to climb head first down the line I had just come up, making me feel just a little inadequate in my climbing capability!  The climbing was fun, consistent and with no nasty surprises.  With a much reduced grade to our first route the pitch was over quickly, not that I was trying to rush things:

Kym followed up just as quick and didn’t even bother to hand the backpack over, as we had on the more serious line.  We also only had to carry quick draws, no need for natural protection on this line.  All these little things speeded the changeovers up and we moved on, but not without plenty of images being taken.  In fact we were both guilty of probably a few too many selfie images, and I could almost make up an entire email of them!  The belays were comfy and well placed, allowing us to sit back and enjoy the scenery:

To the north I could see the Stirling Ranges, a place that in my mind is even more serious than here.  Loose rock, runout routes, hard route finding and longer lines that really can take all day to get to, climb, and get off.  There were some bushfires raging in the national park and so the peaks were only just visible, being mostly obscured in smoke.  It didn’t take long for Kym to get to the end of pitch two, which is located in a cave.  To the south we could see darkening clouds and wondered whether we should sit it out, but I decided against that idea:

I exited the cave to the right and then it was the crux move of the climb to get established above the overlap.  Then it was back to the same consistent climbing that we were getting used too.  The wind was picking up significantly, so much in fact it was soon howling and whistling past us.  Being a relatively easy grade route the wind didn’t put me off, in fact it invigorated and even heightened the experience.  It slowed me down a bit but that was also in part due to maybe tiring a little, after all we had already climbed 300m:

Kym followed me with the wind getting stronger, the slings were being blown horizontal and as I coiled the rope, as he climbed, that too was being blown horizontal.  You can probably tell that I actually enjoy these conditions, and it seemed Kym was having a ball too!  He led up the next pitch and as I followed up and about half way up the temperature plummeted by probably ten degrees and it felt cold.  We knew what was coming so I quickly went past him and finished of the last pitch.  There were two parties at or near the top and they intended to abseil down:

We advised them against it, the rope drag would be heightened when the rain hit but they didn’t listen.  So we walked back down, and got there way before they were even in sight.  It was time for some food, when suddenly we could hear rocks cutting through the air and we were in the firing line of hand sized flakes that they had knocked off the top.  The sound was incredible and as Kym ran for cover I watched them come down to avoid running into their path.  The choice was made to shoulder our pack and start the walk out, as the rain fell in earnest:

The black slab that Kym is standing on was treacherous and we took a few tumbles getting down it, but after having avoided the deadly rock fall we were in high spirits and took the falls in our stride.  Looking back up at the mighty monolith of Gibraltar Rock, we didn’t think the two parties that were now abseiling down in pouring rain would be in the same high spirits.  It looked miserable up there and we wondered if we should stick around to help them out, but both agreed it was safer for us not to be underneath them.  So we turned and carried on walking:

The next day it rained in the morning, but we remained hopeful.  Jon was coming round at 8am and we were off to the spectacular West Cape Howe.  It’s a mission to get in there with a sandy track, which in dry conditions can get pretty difficult to navigate.  The morning rain had however helped and we got in with ease, and we were soon standing on the precipice looking down at the mighty cliffs that soar straight out the ocean.  Today however we were not climbing on these more frequented cliffs, and instead kept driving further south along the headland:

Kym and I were taken to Convicts Corner, which has a couple of old routes in the currently WA guide book, but is rarely visited.  Jon and others had visited the area some five odd years back and found/established a bunch of new lines, some trad and some they bolted.  Since then they had never come back and so the lines had remained untouched.  Without the local knowledge the place would not have been easy to find, it not only was hidden by bush but also required an abseil to get access to the upper shelf:

At the shelf we were greeted by a huge rock foot, I love finding these features and am fascinated at how they came to be.  This one really does look like a proper sole in so many ways.  It was also the gateway to the delights of our days climbing.  The morning the rain had passed, but it was still cloudy and there was a bit of a breeze.  That would not only help dry any moisture left on the rock but also keep the flies at bay, so conditions were looking good.  After we had all rapped own it was time to set up base camp:

There was a perfect flat and shaded shelf that had an amazing view out over the Southern Ocean.  The swell was low and so there was no spray in the air, the clouds started to split into a mosaic allowing for both shade and just a bit of sun to keep us warm.  It was looking likely to be a great day at West Cape Howe!  It does however have to be said that this place can feel very intimidating, and having played on our relatively safe and small local cliffs for so long it took me a little while to desensitise to the more extreme conditions of this place:

We rapped down under Jon’s instructions to bag the second ascent of one of their new lines.  Deciding to start sensibly and then see where we ended up, this line started from a shelf part way down the wall.  Below was a huge rock shelf, and we wanted to check out the conditions to see just how high up the small swell of the day would wash onto that before we decided to go all the way down.  Keen to climb I started the day with Beggars Banquet, a pleasant and direct grade 15.  No nasty surprises just nice consistent climbing back up to where we came:

We made use for the shelf to start the first three climbs, the shelf below was getting a fair bit of action and so we decided that we would play it safe.  In the image above you will see a super impressive wall behind Kym, this is as yet and amazingly untouched wall.  It stood out as an stunning and completely natural line, which while a bit zig-zagging took in some incredible territory.  Today was not the day for that wall, but should we return Kym and I are already frothing over it and have decided we would attempt a ground up full trad first ascent:

The second line was Stress Test and indeed testy at grade 21.  The initial slab off the belay had a couple of thin blind seams, with just enough of an edge to curl the tips of your fingers round and rotate a few millimetres of the edge of our climbing shoes onto.  It was super thin and balancy.  The crux move needing full control and core strength, letting go with both hands and going for a hold that really isn’t a hold.  After that the pace eased into a perfect hand jam crack, today I had to full on jam on some lines and I have the scars to prove it:

The third line was a grade 16 that took an exposed traverse of the right hand end of the shelf, you step across nothing with 20m of air to the deep blue below.  By now I was getting used to the situation and less worried, allowing me to relax into the climbing and enjoy the sound of the waves, coolness of the wind and touch of the rock.  West Cape Howe is a very special place and has so much potential for new routes.  If I lived closer I do believe that this would be my Swanage, which was my favourite place to climb in England and is equally intimidating:

The upper section of the third line, which we still do not know the name off, comprised a rounded rib with rock textured like a reptiles back.  The scales had brown surfaces, but in-between the scales were groves etched into the black granite that lay beneath.  The holds comprised these rounded groves.  It really did flow and was such fun, the only shame being that this section didn’t go for the full length of the route.  Kym followed up equally impressed with the rock texture, as the ocean boiled beneath him:

Next up was one of the longer routes here, it started from the base of the crag but with the shelf being wave washed today we started from a shelf and accessed it via a fine crack that started wide and got progressively narrower.  It was pretty funny that when I rapped down to Kym, as he was setting up the trad belay, I forgot to bring the lead ropes down.  It was a good job that Jon was with us and he saved the day, and me from having to prussic 40’ish meters back up.  Soon enough Kym was on his way, as the sun poked over the top of the cliff:

The 40m line was insanely good, the left rising crack narrowed and became more and more technical before spitting you out onto a steepening slab that went to full vertical.  Here horizontal breaks provided foot and hand holds that got smaller and more spaced the higher you got.  Kym took his time lapping up the moves and position, and so it was that we put up an alternative start to the bottom half of Lab Rat, grade 18.  Kym is yet to name the new climb, but the grade remains the same.  Very cool indeed:

Kym was also stoked, and rightly so.  Considering he last climbed trad a year ago and has been pinching pebbles since then.  The daunting wall behind him still called out to us but we were starting to tire and the thought of such a long unknown route with two roofs to tackle was too much for us.  Instead we had a bit to eat and after that left Jon to play on the rap line on the routes we had just climbed.  We were heading to another wall, a line that again had only had the first ascent done and not been touched since:

When we first came down Jon had said this was the line to bag, and he reckoned it was the best grade 15 in WA.  It looked impressive, but to do it justice I had decided to get a few climbs under my belt to get used to the atmosphere and climbing style.  Every new place has its own peculiarities including the protection, holds and moves.  Also as the day wore on this route kept coming up, and each time it did the grade changed.  From 15 to 17, then it was an 18 or 19, maybe it was harder but Jon’s memory was fuzzy and so there was only one way to find out:

Glen the micro-cams came in very handy both on Saturday and even more so today.  This line that currently has two names of Fingerlocks and The Wooden Box ascends a 30m pillar with a crack that splits it up the middle almost to the top but not quite.  The crack starts wide and narrows, and as it narrows becomes less deep.  The gear starts with a number 2 camalot and goes all the way down the smallest micro-cam.  It has rests being slight off vertical but they get more tenuous as you get higher, and you need to trust smeary holds with great friction:

The climb requires hands down to finger locks, and it gets tricky when the crack is too narrow to even get a toe in.  Then you have to rely on full smears and at one point I had to use a finger ring lock with full vengeance, the first crux.  Kym was keen for me to keep an eye on him on this one, but I took a bunch of sneaky images as he inched his way up the line.  It has one bolt at the top where the seams just won’t take any gear but other than that it was full trad.  A wicked line that kept me on my toes the whole way up:

At the position below I was stumped for ages, eventually piking out right using features near the arête.  I kept looking back and felt like I had cheated, so decided to reverse the moves to get back to the stance that Kym is at.  Somehow I pulled them off and was then faced with again trying to go direct.  I placed a worthless tri-cam and procrastinated for even longer looking at how bad it was, before eventually summing up the guts to smear my feet and pull on the small holds hoping for a better hold above, which thankfully was good enough to pull through with:

I was floating as I belayed Kym up, relishing the route I’d just climbed and it is fair to say that is one of the best lines I have climbed.  I pondered the grade, comparing it to the other lines we had just done but also the more recent routes I’ve climbed at Willyabrup and Esperance.  Even at grade 19 I reckon people would call it a sandbag, but that is the grade I’d plump for.  Better still Jon had been watching and was very pleased when I went direct, on the first ascent they had gone right.  So both Kym and I sent a first ascent even if they were both variants:

So as per the Cambridge dictionary definition of “pièce de résistance”, I feel like we had left till last the best and most important or exciting thing, often the last in a series of things.  We were pretty toasted and ready to haul ourselves back up the rap line.  But before we passed the sacred gates that showed the hidden path through the bush, we scrambled along the top of the cliff to get a good look at the cliffs we had just climbed, as well as the most southern headland of Australia, shown above, with still soooo much new route potential:

Kym drove us out, the warm day had dried any moisture that was in the sand and it had become soft and fluffy.  With deflated tyres, 4WD, locked diffs and a bit of speed and high revs Kym sailed over the track until we came across this sight.  The poor guy had blown his diff and was trying to get out in 2WD, a hopeless struggle!  So we ended up literally pushing his car up the last 50 odd meters of hill as he revved the guts out of it inching ever so slowly along.  After that hill he must have managed to get through as we didn’t see him again:

It was my third and last night at Kym and Meg’s place, where the hospitality is top notch.  After clearing the days toys away, sorting through and sharing images and having a good feed we hit the sack.  I was up early but hung about at least until the kids had got up so I could say a proper good bye, while Meg was enjoying a well-deserved lie in after allowing me to drag (hardly) Kym out for two solid days climbing.  By 6:30 I was in the car and pulling out of the driveway, like I said their kids get up early although this morning Tessa had had a lie in:

On the road back I dodged monitor lizards and more birds than I could count including galahs, ring necks, crested pigeons, magpies, corellas, rosellas and even wedge tailed eagles.  Missing them all as I watched the landscape change from the dramatic far off Porongurup’s and Stirling Ranges, which were still on fire; wide paddocks with hay bales ready to be collected, as I skirted the wheat and wool belt; and finally state forest.  As I passed Boyanup only half an hour from home I popped in to surprise Lisa while she was at school and had a cuppa with her:

I really think I need to pop down to Albany to see Kym and his family, plus get just a little climbing in, a bit more often than once a year.