The exciting news is that yesterday Lisa and I headed to Perth to pick a few bits up, and maximised the use of our time there by going to Rock Face indoor climbing gym. Where Lisa checked out some climbing shoes. With one big toe being fused and the other having bad osteoarthritis, it has been hard to find shoes that fit and are comfortable. They need to have enough room for the sticky up fused toe and have a stiff enough sole so as not to put too much pressure on her slowly deteriorating arthritic other toe. And she found a pair:
You might now think that armed with new shoes and excitement that would bring this post would be all about Lisa and I out on rock, but also no. Firstly after weeks of being knocked about by a virus and also not being able to exercise for a few months due to stuffing her back up, Lisa’s energy and stamina levels are pretty low. Secondly she is keen to first play on the indoor wall at home to build up a bit of climbing fitness. So instead of Lisa, it was Mikey that joined me on a trip to Moses Rocks, which was his choice of location:
Despite there being a four meter swell today the light offshore would no doubt make it a great atmospheric day to be here. Only last week the swell had got higher than I can recall it ever being, at a lofty nine meters. All the signs were there that the coast had been smashed, as you can see in the first image the loop road at the carpark was partially filled in with sand, then above most of the beach was gone. With so much dune eroded and bedrock exposed it seemed extreme, but looking back at my images we have had somehow similar situations before:
However, it does still feel worse. The signs for me being the way the dune had started to erode, with visible signs of the dune vegetation being spread across what remained of the beach. Another sign was the mineral sand, with black flecks, again something I can’t find in any previous images. Other parts of the western coastline with more formalise structures, such as seawall and stairs, were severely impacted with reports of the worst erosion people could recall. I guess with the latest report on climate change we can only expect the situation to worsen:
If you are keen to flick through a few past images to see what the main beach has looked like before, both during summer when it is at its fullest and winter when it has been eroded here are a couple of posts worth checking: https://sandbagged.blog/2019/03/25/couch-potato/ & https://sandbagged.blog/2020/07/25/learning-new-skills/. As I checked my image bank before writing this post it hit me just how many times I have climbed here. It is amazing that I haven’t got bored of the climbs here, and I can honestly say I haven’t:
The last time I came here with Mikey, was with Craig and Rongy and we headed to the southern end at Rumpoles Rocks. He hadn’t been to that area before so I let him take all the leads, and today I had the same idea. He already had a few climbs in mind that he hadn’t been on before, or hadn’t led. And I was more than happy to be on belay duties, kick back and watch the waves roll in. It was also great to listen to the thunderous sound, as the clean barrels collapsed in on themselves. I had in mind to video the scene but we never got round to it:
Mikey jumped on Many Hands to warm up. The rocky was a little damp and a bit of salt residue could be felt under our fingertips, so I was glad he was on lead and happy to have the rope above me. Some of the lines he had in mind were a bit goey, so I suggested that rather jump on another easy’ish route he should bump it up straight away just to see how he was feeling. And feeling good he was, as he on-sighted Billy the Fish. A smeary and slippery grade 20 slab with a couple of tiny millimetre thick opposing wires protecting him from a potential ground fall, as he topped out:
As the morning wore on the rock did improve, and that was a good thin as the next route has a high first bolt with tricky moves down low. It is not a place you want to be falling off from if you miss the clip. At the start Victor and his Boa Constrictor has small crystal holds for your fingertips and smears for feet, and if the rock is slippery it would have made it a bit of a dodgy climb to jump on. I didn’t give anything away by saying where holds or gear was, and it was cool to watch someone climbing the route with no prior knowledge. Being so used to the routes and knowledge them so well it also made me appreciate the grades a bit more:
Today was blue, blue sky and it made a big difference to many recent trips out. The day was well and truly awake now and the more gentle hues of the morning were now taken over by brilliant bright colours, almost too blinding to look at. This location, particularly on days like today, provide a sensory overload but one that you just can avoid watching and listening too. We took advantage of the times when we were belaying to absorb it all, and then when on rock our senses seemed to block them out and our focus was purely on the rock:
For such a small crag there is an amazing variety of lines on offer here, and the next one is one of a kind in the area. Cornish Nasty, is far from it. The body eating crack low down eventually spits you out into an exposed position on rounded holds, as you look up and wonder how you will ever get over the bulge above. But today, and at least for now, Mikey was on fire and he gobbled up yet another very fine route with seemingly very little trouble. He was also unphased by my belaying and photographic antics:
Signs of cracks did however start to appear. While he had knocked four routes out of the park, he suggested that I might like to take the next lead. I know from previous trips that he is much more comfortable leading a route than going second, so it was a clear sign that his stamina was starting to wane a little. Having a rope above you, allows you to relax on the holds more and also climb more efficiently, as you don’t have to worry about the gear placements. So for the first time today I found myself taking in the view from above, and if you look closely you might see my shadow:
Mikey’s rationale for me taking the lead on Johnny Fartpants, was to allow him to recover a bit before he then tried Fat Slags. I’ve mentioned before and feel the need to mention again many of the names at this particular wall are from an old satirical British comic from decades back, so rest assured the names used were not chosen to or meant to offend! This route has a tricky start, nothing more than an open dish for your left hand, and the rest is all balance and footwork. It took Mikey a while to figure out the best approach, but got there eventually:
The route, like the last two he had just led, is pretty intense. After the delicate moves down low a cam can be placed in a flared horizontal crack, and once placed you check it and then you check it again and again. Each time you try the next equally tricky sequence above the cam, you come back down to check the cam again and again and again. Eventually you either make the next sequence of moves to get better holds or you pop off and test if the cam placement was any good, hoping it was so you don’t deck out:
Mikey didn’t test the cam and managed the next sequence. But higher up the route he slipped, as fatigue started to seep in. This was not helped by all the yo-yoing and checking of the purple cam. We had a kept a good pace today, but time was now catching up with us. Mikey was however keen on one more route. Again a line he had not climbed before, and the good news being it was several grades easier. Even that didn’t help and his arms were toasted, and eventually he handed me the rope to finish of Hickup:
Mikey was done and even on second he was struggling to pull the moves, but he was also very happy and satisfied and so he should be. Before heading back to the packs we took in the magical view of what would normally be a beach, as we looked back towards the carpark. It was time to pack up and walk out, and as we did we watched how far inland the waves had been coming and eating away at the base of the dunes. I wonder what this place would look like with a nine meter swell. Maybe next time that is forecast I’ll come down:
Sandbagged 