What are the chances!

Like probably everywhere else Easter was unnaturally quiet at Peppy Beach, normally it would be crawling with people due to being a favourite place to get away and spend time on the beach.  On Sunday night we met up with the neighbours in our cul-de-sac for a drink, each bringing our own chair, drink and glasses.  We sat in a wide circle observing the recommended social distancing.  He I sat listening and occasionally adding to the conversation, during which time I had two light beers.  I wondered if I might regret that in the morning, I really don’t drink much anymore.  Easter Monday I woke at 6:30, which is late for me, and got up to make a cup of tea and check the weather radar one last time.  Decision made, avoid the coastal crags and head inland:

I had originally planned to head to the Terrace at the Northern Blocks of Wilyabrup, a steep place with at times smeary holds and mostly harder (for me) lines.  I knew from experience that wet conditions were not ideal for the Terrace, but as I had been keeping an eye on the weather pattern I already had a backup.  As I drove to Welly Dam it was lightly raining; making my way “up the hill” it was clearing but the roads were wet; and finally as I drove down into the “bowl on top of the hill” where Wellington Dam can be found, the place was shrouded in mist.  Today I didn’t park at the bottom by the picnic area but at the top, as this saved me needing to walk back up to set up the top-rope:

The mist was lifting before my eyes, so hopefully the conditions might be reasonable.  Hauling my gear over the wall to the ledge on top of the steep granite walls I could hear that familiar sound of gear clinking.  I popped my head over the edge and saw a top-rope setup with no climber.  The car was tucked in the corner but before I had time to work out who this might be, a familiar face popped over the stone wall that keeps the normal punters away from the edge.  It seems that Howsie too was eager to touch real rock and had been here since 6, a time of the day that unusually I had not seen today:

We kept our distance and I set my line up on Ebonie Road.  I found out that Howsie had already done two laps on Taj, a line I jokingly told him a few weeks back that he should be doing laps on rather some of the easier or more familiar lines.  He admitted to finding the start super hard to read and link, and so in a tired state his second chosen line of Flight Simulator was near impossible.  He was just about to pack up, as he had said he would be home by 9.  I however encouraged him to do one more lap on Flight Simulator so I could point out the holds and moves to see it that would help.  Sorry Nadia it really was my fault that he was late leaving:

Flight Simulator is a feisty route and super pumpy.  I first unlocked it’s secrets with Howsie and Rongy way back.  But despite that knowledge it still scares all three of us.  On this lap Howsie worked his way past the first bolt and it was the moves to get past the second bolt that was shutting him down.  After pointing out a few holds and tricks he made the moves, which allowed a somehow rest before the crux sequence starts.  As he attempted that section I jumped on Ebonie and did my two laps.  It felt harder than I had hoped, and I was starting to wonder if I should have set up on some of the easier lines.  Hindsight is pretty useless really:

From atop Ebonie, after my second lap, I had a great view of Howsie still battling the crux.  He was looking tired and was going up and down like a yoyo on holds that I knew were small and draining.  After taking some snaps of his position I hopped on top and set my line up on route number two.  Gumby Goes Bolting was next for me.  Meanwhile Howsie was trying, falling, sitting, trying, falling, sitting, trying, falling, sitting and all the while inching his way upwards.  I did wonder if he was going to be a bit annoyed at me suggesting he do another lap:

He was dripping with sweat, the moisture from the night before was saturating the air giving Welly Dam a heavy feel.  Eventually he made it up and we had a quick chat about how some days you just have to struggle on the routes.  Words Wiggins had said to me at Mount Frankland came to mind.  Regardless of how you climb, is it ever really a bad day when you are out climbing?  Howsie and I looked out at the view, as I made use of Wiggins wise words.  With that Howsie’s struggles just became part of a great morning out.  He pulled his system apart, as I rapped down to do my first lap on Gumby:

The first lap went OK’ish.  My arms where feeling pumped and the holds had that greasy feel that the humidity brings.  Before I rapped back down I said my goodbyes to Howsie with the usual salutations of the moment, “stay safe”.  I rapped back down and did my second lap, the moves felt more familiar, as they should, but the arms and holds didn’t feel a whole heap better.  Back on top and time to move the rope again.  Seeing Howsie had just climbed Flight Simulator, which had been on my hit list for the day, I did the right thing and passed that one by:

Instead I set up on Ear for Fear, wondering what I was thinking as I rapped down.  Feeling weary and tired, was it the two beers or the humidity, I tentatively launched myself at the crux.  Greasy holds made it feel very tenuous.  I put that to the back of my mind and as soon as I got my right toe on that high right edge I knew I could pull it off.  At the top my arms were burning, but I knew what I had to do… so back down I went for lap two.  The holds, my fingers or something else was not as forgiving this time and I was spat off at the crux and then above again.  Finally at the top I sat heavily on the rope and pondered my next move.  I knew that with the rope here I could put in a draw on the last bolt of Slay Away next:

So that is what I did, and so I started up the steep, fingery and balancey sequence that requires lots of core work.  After that comes the crux, I was shattered but determined to try.  I attempted my usual approach of using a smooth sloper hand hold and smeary feet, that no one else seems to like.  I got to the next not so great pocket past the sloper and rock blew sending me flying, so now I needed a completely new sequence.  I eventually worked one out, but it was draining and even then I was only half way up the wall  The second lap was no better the crux was way too pumpy for me and again I fell into the safety of the harness.  Sweat pouring down my forehead and arms ready to burst I made it to the top and decided that was enough… despite having only been on four lines it still felt like a great morning out.