Changing seasons

Conditions were looking better for heading to where I intended to go on Monday.  Clear skies, light winds, and no chance of rain.  I thought that by going on a Friday, as oppose to the weekend, it would be quiet and secondly it might also make me feel better about being on the road.  There would likely be more people driving about for work due to being a weekday.  It might sound silly but on these solo missions I keep having the question in the back of my mind, it this essential travel?  Directly opposite the style that gets you onto the access track is a gum in which I often hear and see Wattle Birds.  Today a number of the nuts were a bright red with the yellow stamin of the flower just starting to emerge:

It felt like a crisp morning, and I almost put the heater on in the car when driving down.  The temperature dropped below double digits, like the flowers above this is another sign of the seasons really starting to shift.  Across the bay the sun was just hitting the main cliffs of Willyabrup, clean waves rolling in.  It would have been a great day on the water for the surfers, something that really has never taken my fancy.  My vantage point today was the top of the Terrace at the Northern Blocks, at Willyabrup.  I setting the rope up fully aware that there would be a challenging line or two, and I was not sure if I was really ready after feeling that I had being well and truly spanked at Welly Dam on Monday:

The morning began with me being sensible and starting at the left hand end.  Ideally I’d like to get up six lines today but if I didn’t make that many I wouldn’t be too upset.  With the rope set up back from the edge I could easily adjust the direction on the anchors to accommodate my first three chosen lines.  Unlike the other places I have been recently the top of this wall is a slightly narrow ledge.  The sort of ledge with just enough space to walk about on, but you always feel like you are right on the edge.  So today I was tied in the whole time I was up there, which adds to the tension and nervousness of the place.  The first line of the day was the easiest, Metamophic Sausage, but it felt hard and sustained.  The steep wall never giving my arms a chance to truly rest, two laps and I was not feeling confident for what lay ahead:

Thrice Bitten, at four grades harder, actually felt easier and I made both laps without having the same tired feeling.  Admittedly stemming allowed for complete hand free rests at several points, in-between the harder moves.  Then it was time for the real action to start, another four grade jump for Bearded Dragon.  At the first overlap the flattop block that is one of the biggest holds on the route, and normally feels so comforting, had become loose.  It looked wedged in, but I didn’t fancy pulling on it in case it dislodged and smashed into my face.  This resulted in me attempting several approaches to work round it and pumping out.  Disappointing but not unexpected, it’s a pretty sustained and technical line.  However, on my second lap and knowing what to avoid I managed a clean ascent, I was very happy:

Next up the rope had to be moved.  The Future Grins, another grade up and on much steeper terrain.  That did mean bigger holds, the first three climbs required a lot of finger strength and this was more about brute strength and core work.  I’ve only lead it once before, failing at the crux from exhaustion.  I it was intimidating knowing what to expect and that I hadn’t got it clean before, but two clean laps in and I was on fire!  I sat atop and allowing a bit of time for my arms to relax, I contemplated whether to try the line just to the right again.  Another couple of grades up, and even steeper and more sustained climbing.  Why not!  I approached it fearlessly pulling hard, working my feet, and being pretty vocal with every move.  Lots of strenuous laybacking on overhung ground resulted me in being gassed by the midway point, it took a long rest and a few attempts before I was ready to get going again:

I didn’t manage the top half in a single push, and was utterly shattered when I topped out.  Looking back down it was obvious that there was no point inflicting that on myself again.  I’d be dogging the whole way up and might even need to resort to other unethical tactics to get up.  So decision made, but I couldn’t end the day like that so I slipped down five grades and enjoyed the delights of Silver.  Fingery like the first three routes and overhung like the last two, I managed a clean ascent just.  One lap would do to even up the tally of the day, I was pretty happy with how it had gone on the rock.  Sitting back to let my body relax, and allow that tiredness seep into every part of my body as the effects of the adrenalin dissipated.  I watched the waves and noticed people stood on top of Willyabrup (above), and wondered if they had heard me encourage myself up the second last route:

It was warming up and my legs felt like jelly walking back out.  It had been a slightly sweaty morning.  The humidity was just enough to make the holds a little greasy, and I was surprised that hadn’t halted my progress.  It did mean the helmet, top rope gear and shoes needed an airing out on the walk back.  So with gear swinging off my harness I made my way back.  Up the ridge (the hard part), across the open paddock and finally down across the little creek.  Here with the cooler days coming on, the Arum Lilies were out in force.  Doing what weeds do best, chocking up the creek and blocking any light that would be needed by any native plants trying to get established below it.  One last short incline got me to the carpark, where I was surprised to see a five other cars.  As I drove out on the gravel road two more cars were coming in, with all this traffic at Willyabrup it almost felt for a moment like life was back to normal: