When the opportunity arises you have to take it, and seeing Kym had a break in his studies and there was a settled period I drove down on Thursday afternoon to stay with the Hartley family. As I drove into Albany I watched the sun go down and on arrival at their house I was greeted first by Sunny who wouldn’t stop barking at me. Tess soon popped out with a big smile, and then I found Kym busy in the kitchen. Meg had been out on the bike and arrived soon after me with a very tired looking Claire, who was just getting over a cold, and Beau. Dinner was soon served, and Kym had cooked up a feast. One thing is for sure and that is, despite not heading down very often whenever I do I am always made to feel very welcome by the whole family:
The next morning Kym and I headed out. Not a crack of dawn start, after all we had two days of climbing ahead of us. We made a quick pit stop at the shops to get a few supplies and then drove out to the campsite. There was no point in making camp yet and we shoulders our packs to walk out to yet another South Coast gem. Once again I found myself being taken to a place that I hadn’t been too before. It was an hour walk, but the terrain was never too hard. The track followed the contour pretty closely with only a couple of minor slopes to tackle. That said I was pretty tired when we got to the crag, my cardio fitness is certainly not what it used to be:
There was no mucking about and we soon hatched a plan for the first lead, Kym had the start all mapped out. A route of his that he had recently bolted, and one that was yet to have its first ascent. In his usual generous fashion he offered me the rope and I set off up the line, and it was time to get used to the light coloured granite. So once again I got a first ascent courtesy of Kym, it seems to happen each time I go down there! It was a very textured rock and on this route had lots of small flakes, offering positive but at times sharp holds. I looked at them nervously wondering if they might snap off sending me flying. I had no choice but to trust them and surprisingly they held:
The first pitch was a great line up the slabby face and then making use of huge huecos. This is a Spanish term meaning hollows, and is often used to referred to water holding depressions on boulders or rock faces. They were pretty enormous and in places plentiful, making for great jugging up the pocketed wall. The landscape below us was littered with boulders, high rocky peaks in the distance and rocky headlands which offered more new route potential than you could poke a stick at. These bays were small fry compared the huge monolith we were climbing on, but back home in the South West they would be greedily gobbled up by local climbs and touted as stunning finds:
The South Coast has an enviable amount of rock, and so much of it unclimbed. This particular crag looked and felt like a standout, it was tall maybe 100-150m in places. After the lovely first pitch Kym bagged the second and third pitch, joining them up to make a long 60m rope stretcher. What a way to start the trip, a great climb and first ascent! My one regret of the trip was that we never topped out, but we still got pretty high and after this first route we ended up at the Terrace. Here we walked past a few other but much shorter 10-15m routes:
The shorter routes were located on the wall in the image below. The Terrace was a vegetated gully and while it was not the top of the crag it wasn’t too far off it. You may wonder why we didn’t scramble up to it. Well I was told the top is littered with similar vegetated gullies and navigating them is a bit of a nightmare. I accepted that on the basis that we agreed during my next trip here we will top out so I could see it. So instead of going up we scrambled back down to the base in search of the next line. This place doesn’t have a guide book so I couldn’t swot up on it and make any plans, I instead was led by Kym and what he thought was worthy:
The scramble down leads you through a few gullies and as you can imagine this is where water collects most often and makes it way down for longer than other areas. For this reason there are a few ropes, and this one has been in place for over a decade. You could feel it stretch and groan when you weighted it. Being designed for wet ocean conditions it was still holding up after all this time. It is a little surprising, considering how stunning this place is, that it doesn’t attract more attention. It is partly due to the walk in, after all why make such an effort when there are oodles of crags so much easier to access:
During storms water runs down the faces and over time this has resulted in runnels being created. A number of these have been bolted to provide very cool climbs. My next lead was up one of these, a route by non-other than Shane Richardson. A bit of a local West Australian legend. Kym mumbled something about the grade and said I should do it, because it was a classic. Looking up I was a bit nervous, feeling a little intimidated by its steepness and the blank looking rock. Regardless of what I thought Kym’s energy, confidence and enthusiasm sucked me in and I found myself tying myself in and starting up the runnel:
It was super thin. Skin biting crimps that were barely wide enough to put the end of your finger pads on. Your feet had to use the same small holds and at times were simply smearing on the wall. A very engaging start and one that provided no rests, forcing me to total focus and commit. I have confessed to resorting to becoming quite vocal on testing routes in recent times, and this was yet another occasion. It helped me stick the holds when I felt like I was falling off and push through to make the nervous moves. I have to admit to being very, very, very chuffed when I got to the top of this unnamed grade 22 Shane Richardson line without a fall:
These routes were all single pitch so we found ourselves back at the base once more, making use of the lower offs. Kym has been here probably more times than anyone else, but there are still lines he hasn’t been on and for his next lead he picked one of them. This one was created by George Firth and again is unnamed going in at 22/23. It followed a steep wall to a cave and slightly overhung finish. Starting with great technical face climbing it also provided places where you needed to pull out varied traditional moves including under-clings, mantles, heel hooks and knee bars. I managed to get it clean on second, and part of me wonders if I should have pulled the rope to lead it:
There seemed to be no end of climbs to choose from and there was a surprising variety of features and climbing styles required. Back in 2011 this place had a number of visits from a Perth crew. They established a number of climbs and then left, seemingly never to return. I can imagine that it would have been a mission to get here with all the gear and commit to finding and equipping the lines, especially when travelling from Perth. But when you live nearby like Kym and the Albany crew it is much more doable, and it is good to see the place getting a bit more attention from them:
My next climb actually had a name. OK Corral (20) was a Matt and Jim classic, described in the old records as “quite goey”. Kym had re-bolted this line, which was put up with bashed in carrots, and now sports glued in machine bolts. Kym hasn’t changed the bolt positions so nothing has been changed about the route and my words after the first section shown above, without having seen the route description, was that it was “quite goey”. A super 30m pitch that was continually absorbing. Despite feeling a little nervous jumping on the grades we were, I was really warming to the granite and style of climbing:
Next up was a line Kym had tried recently and almost managed to on-sight. Another unnamed Shane Richardson route weighing in a hefty 25/26, although there is local debate about the grade. It followed another one of the water runnels, this time going up it from start to finish. With no escape onto a face or slab and not a hueco in sight. Unfortunately Kym climbed it in worse style that on his first attempt, and had to work the moves. He managed to pull them all and when he finally came down at looked at me expectantly, later saying he was half thinking I would breeze up it:
The hardest route I have ever climbed is 25 and I only managed clean ascents at that grade a couple of times, when I was very fit in Alice Springs. I’ve dogged a couple in Kalbarri, but that may have been due to the intensity of the trip. Still I was here and the rope was above me so why not give it a go! Needless to say I didn’t get it clean but worked and managed every move. I also had to find alternative sequences to what Kym used due to my shorter reach. The holds were stupidly small and at time non-existent. Often you had to smear feet on the sides of the runnel trusting in nothing but faith and friction to keep you stuck on the wall. A dead-set classic line by anyone’s standards, sustained, absorbing and in my mind definitely worthy of 25:
It had been a pretty big day, and while we had only climbed three pitches each the grades had been pretty up there for most of them. Our finger tips were tingling and we could feel our toes from all the fancy footwork that had been required. As we walked back to the packs we passed the first climb we had bagged. Kym had left a hex in a tree to mark where it started, as Jon and Ron would be joining us tomorrow and he wanted them to try it. So it was that the name for the new route came to me “Hex marks the spot”, providing the three fun pitches at grade of 17, 11 and 13:
It was 3pm when we started walking out, and an hour later we were exploring the boulders and rock pools near the campsite. It was an idyllic place to stay, very beautiful and full of character. I am a firm believer in being able to feel if a place wants you to be there. Both Lisa and I have had experience of places making it quite clear to us that we were not welcome. That was not the case here, both at the crag and the campsite, and it felt really good. After exploring the area we finally made our way back to the campsite and pitched our tents:
First things first, the kettle went on. A cuppa with some chips and a bit of chocolate. We could feel the energy levels building back up inside us. As Kym busily got dinner on the go the moon poked its face over the hills on the far side of the water. Clouds rolled across the sky making it look like the moon was playing hide and seek, and we kept getting distracted from camp duties to stand and watch the game. It must have been very close to a full moon and all night long it never truly got dark:
I felt like I was being waited on hand and foot. Kym had prepared for every aspect of this trip and I hardly lifted a finger. It felt quite luxurious, and when the meals was served it felt even more so. Starters of garlic prawns and a main of bronze whaler and whiting on a bed of salad. We ate very well and were definitely topping up our protein levels in preparedness for the next day climbing. As we sat there content we began to wonder if anyone else was going to join us, then Jon turned up and a short while afterward Ron rolled in with a bottle of rum:
It wasn’t too late night, but there was plenty of banter. There were a few long tall stories and some catching up chit chat, all rolled together with some good old laughs. As morning came in and just before the dawn chorus started I could hear the pitter-patter of light rain on the tent. It disappeared and came back one more time, but never felt too hard and we kept our hopes up. The kettle went on and we had breakfast while being treated to a beautiful sight, as the sun took the place of the moon from the night before:
The sun made its own and very different spectacle. Making use of the light cloud covering to create a mosaic of colours both in the sky and in the perfectly still waters below. It was a great sight and between us we took way too many photos, while sipping on a hot cuppas. Eventually we were ready to pack up the bags and start the walk back out to the crag. For Kym and I it would be a light walk in, as we had left all the climbing gear out there. Jon had a sensibly weighted pack, while Ron’s pack felt like it had everything plus the kitchen sink in it:
He is quite well known for coming very prepared for every eventuality, and then throwing a few more supplies in for good measure. With bags packed we made our way up the initial slope, and then followed the contour back along the track that resembled a kangaroo trail. While it isn’t spring if you looked out there were the splattering’s of yellows, pinks and reds of flowers in-between the many shades of green. I walked at the back finding myself stopping quite often to marvel at yet another plant I found:
There were some lovely flowers out in bloom, but the plant that caught my eye the most were the grass trees. I’ve seen plenty of them in many landscapes, but these were slivery in colour and really stood out, as seen below. I’ve not seen them like this before and I couldn’t help myself, stopping way too often to look at them. The vegetation was mostly low scrub, making it easy to follow the track. There were however patches where the vegetation became higher and thicker, you we had to squeeze our way through narrow gaps. These were at times narrow in the horizontal and vertical:
The walk in was indeed much more pleasant with a light pack. I wondered what it would be like heading back out with a full pack, and no doubt legs tried after a second day of bagging routes. I put that thought aside as today the intention was to mix things up, and this time we pulled out the trad rack. Kym also kindly gave me some jamming gloves to use, and I am very glad he did. While Jon and Ron headed to the west face, which is where we had climbed on our first day, we were aiming to bash a few routes out on the south face. The crag is on a slope and the further north you head the shorter the crag becomes, so obviously the south face is the longest:
Kym had a project in mind, and I was well and truly encouraging him to go for it. If he didn’t I would have. This meant that I had to lead up the first pitch of Salvation, probably a grade 15/6 so nothing too silly. But it was completely different to yesterday’s mostly crimpy style climbing, and today we needed to jam rounded flared cracks. As I said I was very grateful to have the jamming gloves, if I hadn’t had them I would have left a bit of skin and no doubt blood up the first pitch of the days and probably a few others. It felt good to be placing gear, although I was guilty of running it out in a few sections in my excitement:
The second pitch deviated from the original route of this climb. Kym headed for a large flake, one that could be seen weaving up the crag from miles away. I’d spotted it on the walk in and was intrigued, and it seems that the first time Salvation was climbed the intention had been to go up this flake. It was too intimidating on that day, so they went to the right up another crack system. On this trip we had hauled in the No.4, 5 and 6 cams specifically with this flake in mind, and the deep crevice gobbled up all three cams with ease. Even with the ample bomber gear Kym teetered for a moment but then went for the moves to get established up the left hand side of the flake:
It was a powerful move and it was all on under clings, with smears for footholds. Then just as you needed to pull up high to the left better footholds came to the rescue. A very cool sequence in a great position, which was then followed by the continuation system at a much more relaxed pace. Kym was sat atop the flake with a big grin on his face, and when I reached him we sat there taking in the view for a while. He decided to call the pitch Paradigm Shift and we ummed and ahhed about the grade, eventually plumping for 19/20 based on the other routes we did:
Rather than rap all the way down we stopped at the belay for the first pitch; the rope was only just long enough for that. From here I went back up, this time following the original second pitch of Salvation. It was graded 17 and whether it was my lack of experience in jamming or something else it felt tougher to me. A great line that involved a traversing finger crack and then a sequence of vertical and varied crack system that ended with a steep corner. The final corner was ascended by hand jamming, but in the last third I shifting to laybacking to glory. It certainly got me working and it felt like I could have popped off a few times:
Kym decided not to follow me up that line, he was feeling weary and was conserving his energy and also avoiding going downhill like Clare had. It’s a shame as I would love to have got a few snaps to show the awesome corner system on that route. When we talked about the moves it seems Kym would climb it in the same way I did. Switching from jamming to a layback, forgetting about placing gear and just going for it. We headed back down to the base, Kym went first and I sat up high marvelling at the huge flakes that were perched on small ledges. The one shown below being small compared to many others I saw. The crag and setting really was amazing:
As we walked out later that day we looked back to inspect the line one more time, and it was only then that it dawned on me that we had only climbed one third southern face in those two pitches. So the crag must be close to 150m. Next time I’ll be keen to fire up the entire south face. After those three pitches Kym was trying to figure out whether to join Jon and Ron on the west face. However, we decided to knock two more lines off before heading over. The first being Zues. A great grade 19 layback flake. When Kym had tried to on-sight this line it was a bit damp and he popped off ripping a wire, so it had been decided to place a bolt to avoid a nasty landing. It was a bit of a shame clipping a bolt but I could understand the rationale:
Kym again stay at the base opting not to climb, needless to say he has been up these lines a few times. There was still one left for me to get onto, Apollo. The lowest graded line at 15, but what a stonking pitch. Once you hit the beautiful finger crack, it takes you all the way to the belay with sustained climbing and great gear. After that it was definitely time to head over to see how the boys had been getting on, and also to have a spot of lunch. It is hard to say which of the five trad pitches I liked the best, but if I was pressed for an answer I would probably go with the last one. That said they were all really good:
We found the boys perched on a boulder having a snack and taking in the view. Jon had one mission on this trip and that was to climb the cave route. It was the original line on the crag called Natural Aids and climbed by Rathbone on trad, which meant it was mostly a solo. This was not known to the Perth crew during their onslaught in 2011, and Kate Swain and Neil Gledhill bolted the line. Both Jon and Ron rated the line. While not hard climbing the position was great, as it followed the huge leftward rising cave that split the crag. I looked at it and really fancied climbing it, and I’m pleased to say Kym was up for that:
Before starting we took advantage of our vantage point to watch Ron complete the second ascent of Hex Marks the Spot. It was good watching and reliving, in my mind, each position and move. Once he was close to the top of the first pitch Kym and I headed to the crag and I set off. The crux of the cave route was the first pitch, with the hardest moves straight off the deck, grade 17 was worthy and it certainly felt spicy. After that is eased off the and long 40m second pitch was a gentle grade 10 or 11 slab. Having a 60m rope I was able to link the two pitches and as I neared the top of the slab I could watch Jon bag the second ascent of pitch number two of Hex Marks the Spot:
We all sat at the top of the cave and decided that seeing we had all climbed the third pitch before there was no need to repeat it. If we had there would have been the need to either scramble back down or do a double rap. Instead we aimed to rap back down from where we were in one go, made possible due to having two 60m ropes. Kym was obviously getting tired, as he just couldn’t work out what was going on and looked a tad confused. We let Ron and then Jon head down ahead of us, allowing us to make the most of the views. I was half expecting that when we got back down we would probably pack up:
Ron however had other ideas and was racking up to take on the Shane Richardson route I had led on the first day. This got Kym thinking, and there was a route that he liked the look of that he was yet to try. The reason being was that this route was rarely dry and that was sadly the case today, as an alternative he suggested that I should take on the line that he had hinted the day before that I would like. He managed to sell it to me by convincing me that the pumpy right trending crack was the crux and after that the climb eased to a nice grade 18. That is how I found myself once again racking up for a lead (not that I was complaining):
This line was another from the Perth crew and again a George Firth route. The traverse was definitely pumpy and I managed to stick my feet on the blank wall for most of it. Although after the first bolt I almost slipped off. I was reaching out and just managed to get my fingers over the next hold, as my feet gave way and I literally fell into the hold. At the end of the traverse I felt a sigh of relief as the grade 21 moves where supposedly done, leaving me with a pleasant grade 18 finish up the wall… then I looked up and a blank runnel loomed ahead:
After mantling into the runnel I was reminded of the same style of climbing of the first day, small sharp holds and smeary feet. An unrelentingly sustained route that went from pumpy moves into delicate and balancey technical moves. It kept going and going, bar one good hold in which I could sink your fingers up to the first knuckle. It felt like a huge jug. I managed to focus on working one move at a time, with only the occasional self-vocalised sounds of encouragement. Another great climb, and I could see why Kym loved this place so much. This unnamed route is the last route on the west face and was worthy of the three stars they gave it:
Reading the descriptions of the old routes, the one that eased off into a fun grade 18 after just one initial hard move was the line to the right. Maybe next time, as I didn’t have any gas left in the tank. My fingers were tingling and hinting that any more crimping would result in the skin breaking. That and the rubber on my shoes had been worn down to the leather, a sure sign to stop. As I rapped down I looked across to watch Ron top out, a climb that Jon would not be following up. Kym and I were also happy to call it a day so Ron cleaned the line as he came down:
We had managed to spread our gear out in various spots so started to collect it together before working out what was whose and finally packing the bags. Eventually there was no more procrastinating that we could do and it was time to say farewell to Tombstones. A crag that offers fantastic sport and trad routes and endless opportunities for more discoveries, but will probably remain a quiet place. The walk out was surprisingly OK, even with the full pack. We kept a steady pace and I brought up the rear again so I could keep stopping to check out the stunning silvery grass trees, and also look back until the crag was finally out of sight:
Once the crag had disappeared from sight I averted my gaze to the track and was amazed at all the fungi popping out of the ground, so had to include this image. Eventually we were back at the camp, and the first thing we did was pop the kettle on. Sipping on our brews and chatting before the remnants of the camp were taken down and everything was thrown in the car. On the drive out we were treated to several animal sightings including a flock of a hundred or maybe more black cockatoos. They had been taking advantage of a large puddle off the road. We stopped for a while listening to them squawking and watching them fly about us:
Darkness fell as we rolled into Albany, so we made a pit stop at Noodlers to pick up some food. We made the assumption that by this time Meg would have sorted dinner and her and the kids would have all been fed. Sure enough that was the case when we got back, and the house smelt of homemade pizzas. There was still time for Kym to catch up with the kids before bed time, and that included a game or two of cards with Claire while Tess sat quietly on the sofa with her head buried in yet another book. Beau was being his usual endlessly energetic and curious self:
After they had one by one drifted off to bed Kym and I stayed up to go through the images, before I finally gave up and headed to the caravan to put my head down. My intention was to head out at 6 so I could get home at a reasonable time and spend some of the weekend with Lisa. I snuck into the house at 5:30 and it was strangely quiet. I expected everyone to be up pretty soon, but only Clare appeared so while I had a cuppa we chatted away and researched some of the fish in their aquarium. By 6 no one else was up so I asked Clare to say goodbye and to thank everyone for once again looking after me so well:
Four hours later when I got home I heard that Clare had written a note to remind her to say goodbye for me, and she had also mentioned in the note that I had left without having any breakfast! While that may be true I did however take an image of the picture that she had drawn before I had arrived, which showed me on top of the rock ready to belay Kym up a route. I’m already looking forward to my next trip down south, whenever that might be, to see the Hartley family and hit a bit more of that south coast rock.
Sandbagged 