Finally the school holidays have arrived! And seeing my trip back to the UK had to be cancelled I am staying home for the two weeks, as we are being told at work that we have to keep using our leave. While many are complaining about this I don’t mind a couple of weeks at home, time to kick back and head out for a few walks and just maybe a bit of climbing. It didn’t start off too well on this long weekend, with no one available for a climb. I was however not perturbed and picked a destination and headed out, but not until I had a cuppa or two with Lisa who this time hadn’t had any vivid dreams for me to recount:
As I drove past Busselton there was a stunning cloud formation ahead. It looked like the front drum of an old style lawnmower. Cylindrical in nature, low to the ground and dark and ominous, it extended a long way from south to north and was an amazing sight. I can’t show you and even if I had stopped to take an image I doubt it would have done it justice. Sure enough as the drum rolled over the rain fell, I was however feeling optimistic and drove onwards. As I closed in on my destination the clouds were still low, so low that at times there was a mist, and peeking through I could see the blue sky fighting to break through:
It wasn’t an early start, and two cars had beat me to the carpark of Wilyabrup. There was also a signed at the start of the gravel road, just off the bitumen, warning drivers that the unsealed road that led to the carpark could be slippery. It seems that more and more city dwellers are heading out to these kinds of places and need reminding of the obvious. Indeed as I drove out later on I came across a couple of cars coming in, unprepared to give way until I made it clear I wasn’t stopping seeing in both situations they were on a straight and wider section than I was:
The walk in was slower than normal, there were so many flowers out. Red, blue, purple, white and yellow abounded and it was hard to walk past without spending a bit of time soaking them up. I came across my first orchid of the season, a pink fairy and I always marvel when I see an orchid. We used to scour the Stirling Ranges looking for orchids every spring time, and have amassed a photo library of some twenty plus species. There were also large clumps of the above Clematis, a creeper plant that looked to almost be suffocating it’s host. I don’t recall seeing this plant before but it is a native to the area:
In view of the long weekend, I had decided on a place that I was ninety-nine percent certain that no else would go to. In the South West guide I described this place as “likely to appeal to those die-hard traditional climbers”. The rock can be variable and you have to use holds that may comprise gneiss, flowstone and at times a mica-rich weakly cemented, crumbling choss. Below is probably the scariest hold you have to put all your faith in as both a hand and then foot hold. I’m probably not selling the place and in view that the ground underneath the first two lines was completely covered with greenery I’m guessing that Wiggins and I may have been the last people to climb here, back in June 2019:
I started on Sure Footed a route I put up on my first visit here in 2013 with Alan. Next up was one of the original routes of the area Turkish Delight and I was pleasantly reminded of the great moves and positions of this line. It was so good that I took a short video of my second lap. Then I climbed a creation of Steve, Old Crate and that too was very fun. It’s been a while since he has been out and I’ll have to encourage him a bit more persistently to hit some rock. After that I turned my attention to another one I put up, during a different trip here with Wiggins. On the Face of It is the route for which you have to use the above hold. Looking back it was a bit of a crazy lead and I doubt anyone else has ever touched it:
As I rapped down and climbed up the great cliff of Driftwood Bay I checked every pocket, break and gully I could find. Sadly there was no sign or clues to suggest the presence of a snake, lizard, or even beetle. But I did stumbled across the above molted exoskeleton from a huntsman spider. It was lazily twisting and turning from the single silk thread that attached it to the rock, as the gentle breeze blew it about. Sorry to anyone who suffers from arachnophobia, but I just couldn’t resist including the image and probably should have warned you in advance:
The last two climbs were the crag classic Integrity, and the only route on which a hold broke on me, and yet another one of my routes Cauliflower Soup again put up with Wiggins. It is certainly not for gym junkie or sport climbers, and while there is nothing too hard here it is also not for the weak hearted. Like I said only die hard traditional climbers would enjoy this place, not only the variable rock but also the occasional long runout. I have however introduced a number of local climbers to the delights of the place, including those mentioned above and Lou, Glen and maybe a few others. Some have even returned for a second helping:
It wasn’t until I topped out on the last lap of the last line that I saw anyone else. Two people were preparing to climb at the main cliffs of Wilyabrup and above were the tourists, I could see them with their selfie stick taking images. Judging by the location of the two climbers I guessed they were going to tackle Stormcock. It would have been fun to watch them from my vantage point from where I had a great view and it had, as I had hoped, turned into a glorious day. But they were phaffing about taking forever to get ready and I was tiring, so headed out:
It was a slow walk out as I admired the flowers again, only this time in sunlight. Checking the images back home, to try and put a name to the many flowers I saw, I was amazed to realise that we have not got a flower identification book for our local area. We have them for the South Coast, Stirling Ranges, Dryandra, Central Australia and several other places but not the South West where we live. On the final approach to the car the familiar call of the Black Cockatoos, I think they were the long billed variety, was louder than normal. As I passed underneath a tree, ten or more of them erupted from the canopy some of them holding onto the gum nuts they had been feasting on:
Sandbagged 