Kym and I have been trying, and failing, to tee up a weekend to catch up for some time now. The wet winter and now spring we have had has not helped our cause. But this Friday I had to head to Albany for work, helping out with a workshop that ran from nine till two. It seemed the weather gods where being kind to us and there was a possible window of opportunity aligned with this weekend, squeezed between yet two more prolonged wet periods. I rolled into Albany at eight on Friday morning and despite the forecast of dry weather it was raining, but I put those thoughts to one side and headed to work:
As with all good workshops it overran, but not by too much and I was at Kym’s place sipping on a cuppa by three. We would normally have a plan for our catch-ups, These normally comprise a classic big multi-pitch route, a remote hard to access crag, camping out and/or stunning new routes to bag. But this time we had no plans other than heading out to a local crag, and then see what gives. Kym and Meg live at the perfect location, for climbing, with so many crags and boulder fields within a short drive. It only took five minutes and we were parked up at The Gap:
This is a place that I have wanted to climb for many years, but have never got to. You may recall The Gap from the week long climbing trip with Rongy, Howsie and Andrew nearly a year back: https://sandbagged.blog/2020/11/13/south-coast-revisited/. It doesn’t feel like that long ago, but there you go. We had some wild weather on that trip and the day we came to The Gap we had no illusions of getting a climb in. We came to see the massive swell smash the coast, and it was spectacular. Today it was very different, despite the rainy start to the day it was now glorious and the rock had dried up just enough for us to have a play:
There are a few reasons I have not climbed here before. One being it is very close to the public and secondly it has a bit of a reputation for being hard. Neither reason should have put me off before, yes there are lots of people about but as I found out there are many spots where you can hide away from them. Even now with so many more people out and about due to the lack of travel allowed, we were soon out of sight and it felt like we had the whole place to ourselves. As for being hard, well there isn’t a lot of easy stuff and what makes those climbs feel even trickier is the climbing style:
Jamming is an old school traditional technique of climbing. Instead of finding a hold to curl your fingers round you wedge your body parts into a crack and hope that nought but friction will keep it there. Above Kym made use of a perfect hand jam, and while it is not a technique I will profess to be proficient in there are two things that make jamming here a bit more forgiving. The first is the smooth texture of the granite, so when you press your skin against the rock there are rarely any sharp crystals or rock surfaces that are sharp or painful. Secondly, Dan had kindly bought me a pair of crack gloves and they made a huge difference and provide greater friction, as well as protection for the back of your hand:
The first route things went well, it felt tougher than it should have. I could blame the 4am start or the rock that was a still bit greasy after all the rain and big swells of the week before. But, in truth it was my jamming style and ability that made me work that bit harder than I should have. After that, and following Kym up the route he led next, I felt more prepared mentally. Things or should I say jams slotted into place. And not just hand jams, also fist jams and arm bars. The final moves required a finger jam which had to be reached at full stretch. The fingers on my right hand didn’t quite get in deep enough, resulting in a painful slip should you care to zoom in to see the damage:
The routes may not be super long, but they are steep and strenuous and require the whole body to engage. There is no just using your arms and to climb well here you have to activate every muscle. Despite my body feeling it after just two routes the sun was still in the sky and it seemed silly not to make use of the daylight, so back down we went. One of the things I love about traditional climbs is the natural features or weaknesses that they follow, in which you can place protection. This route followed an amazing looking flake followed by a wide chimney that you had to wriggle your body up in an exposed position with limited protection:
I was a tad nervous, as it was the same grade as the route Kym had just led. But I needn’t have worried. That was maybe because it didn’t require jamming the whole way and had a fair bit of laybacking which I relish. Where you holding onto the flake and press your feet against the wall, a style that I feel I am not too shabby at. Despite the slip on the second route, all three climbs were very classy. Solid clean lines with sustained and interesting climbing. We made plans to come back here in the morning to hit more of the fine routes on offer. The grades would be going up, but I felt more prepared for them after my reintroduction to the art of jamming:
The evening and morning light are well known to provide the best light for photography. But, as the shadows grew longer and the orange hue of the lowering sun made things glow in that magical way we had the place to ourselves. The viewing platform stood eerily empty, as the sun drifted towards the horizon and mist from the crashing waves drifted up from The Gap. Both Kym and I felt weary but very satisfied, as we threw the packs back in the ute and drove off, wondering what the morning would bring. Back at the house I caught up with Meg and the kids, Beau had grown so much and was a right little chatter box. He, Tess and Claire were going well and as with any house with three young kids the place never seemed to stop:
Kym was working that night so he headed off soon before eight and I hit the sack, as their house started to go quiet. As is the way when I have an early start, I wake at a similar time for several days afterwards. It is almost as if my body gets rewired and it takes a few days to reset. Rather than disturb the household I headed out for a walk, and I soon realised I was pretty achy already without having hit the rock. Meg was making breakfast when I got back to the house and everyone was up. Being a Saturday morning with no school to get ready for everyone was fairly chilled and there didn’t seem to be that urgency of rushing into the day:
Kym rocked up soon after 7:30 and had a reasonably quiet night, even having managed to get a bit of sleep. I’m not sure how he manages to keep his energy levels up with the irregular work hours, study and of course the family. He and Meg somehow seem to make it work and whenever I come down they always seem to manage to have the energy to make me feel so welcome. He came back this morning raring to go, so it wasn’t long before we were back in the car for a short five minute drive. The water looked reasonable flat to my untrained eye Kym however suspected, and was right, as wandered around checking the various walls:
The swell hadn’t gone down, it just seemed flatter because the swell period was longer. But when the sets came in the rocky coast got pummelled. This resulted in spray drifting upwards landing on the rock and not only making it damp but giving it that greasy feel. Seeing the granite here is quite smooth. and you have to rely so heavily on friction to make those jams stick, the conditions were not looking favourable. Especially seeing we would have to up the grades if we went to the same area. Instead we wandered eastwards and the big waves, as shown in the video below, made it look likely that we might not get to climb here:
Whenever I think of The Gap at Albany, I tend to only consider of the main tourist feature where the paths and viewing platforms are. If you walk east from there the place is littered with rock faces. I was aware and had been to the amphitheatre before but today that too was wet. So we continued to the next area called Zig Zag, which I wasn’t even aware of and is a seldom if not rarely visited area. Kym had only climbed here a few times, and wasn’t even sure what the routes were. The rock looked marginally bit better here, and the lines looked fun so we dropped the packs and got ready:
We started today’s session a bit more sensibly, Kym pointed out a wide crack on the far wall in the sun. I was happy to jump on a more relaxed line to get the body moving the this offered that opportunity. As Kym set up his phone to capture the action, I sat and watched the waves occasionally looking up at the wide crack wondering how I would go. As I started up I wedged my hands, fists and arms in, and I felt comfortable and secure jamming my way up the first route of the day. It seemed kinda nice not knowing the routes or having an agenda, instead we scoped the place looking for lines that looked appealing and interesting. Then we just let the day unfold:
I was a little surprised when Kym opted for what looked to be a stiff opposition for just the second climb. A short but steep wall with a series of vertical and horizontal cracks that took you on a dog legged line up the face. It started with strenuous jamming and laybacking off the deck. On the steeper wall the jams felt a little less secure, with hands and feet squished in a narrow and more shallow crack. From the first horizontal break, tenuous and balancy moves on small rounded holds where needed to make it to the second horizontal break. All this made more nervous due to the dampness. And it was only then that the route really got serious:
You can see the line Kym followed, towards the left of the wall. The chalk marks giving it away. The top vertical crack was flared and difficult, even for Kym with all his jamming skills. By flared I mean that the sides were not parallel, with the crack being narrow at the back and wider at the face. These cracks are tough to jam, and Kym had a battle on his hands quite literally. And made all the harder with limited options for feet. He eventually unlocked it but it required pulling up on a dodgy jam, then in an unbalanced position releasing the jam and slapping the same hand higher up and hoping it would stick:
Having a rope above makes things feel not as bad, but there was no way I could climb the final crack of the route the way Kym had. I still had to jam the flared crack but the slap of faith was not in my repertoire of skills mentally or physically, so I had to work out a different way. It felt super strenuous when I eventually figured out what worked for me, and we both felt like the route had given us a right royal serve. After such a battle you would think we would pick something fun and a bit easier. But no, and added to that I’m sure an off-width crack is definitely not on everyone’s list of what they would call fun:
But we had lugged the big guns with us, the number five and six Camelots, and we had to use them at least once. I felt laddened down with all the hardware hanging off me, but it got used and I was very grateful for them once I got stuck into the meat of the crack. Too wide to fit hand or fist jams and too narrow to squeeze your body into. Arm bars also didn’t feel secure and added to that it was steep. It was a monstrous fight to be able to stay in and then try and move upwards. I had to use hand-stack jams, something I had never done before, and knee bars. Needless to say I fell out of it lots of times, and each time lost a bit more skin. By the time I topped out it felt like I had been put through a cheese grater, and we call this fun:
Kym also struggled but nowhere near as much as I had. With his far greater jamming skills coming into play, he seemed to make much lighted work of it and I think it is fair to say he probably didn’t lose any skin. This the style for much of Albany climbing, jamming rules down here and you either learn to do it right or struggle to get up many of the great lines. There are very, very few climbs where I live that require full on jamming. It is however a technique that I strangely enjoy. I just need to make more of an effort to get down here so I can hone my skills and learn how to avoid losing so much skin:
The next line was far more relaxed, and in many ways reminded me of climbing in the Peak District of England. The home of gritstone, famous in the climbing community, known for its gnarly trad routes https://sandbagged.blog/2017/07/30/part-4-the-peak-district-learning-the-ropes/. It has a very wide range of routes and there are literally thousands of them. As such I was able to and did avoid the lines with more full on jamming, instead opting for routes with layback flakes and technical walls. Kym was starting to get weary, not surprising after his night shift, but he battled his way up this fun route. It had funky moves between wide horizontal breaks that needed a bit of thought, and finished on a fun upper section with layback flakes:
There was one more route we had to bag, Kym felt it may not have been previously climbed. It looked great with what looked like, from the ground, just enough holds and gear to make it go. So I set off full of confidence until I got half way up. Here perched on the steep wall it became evident the spaced horizontal breaks were sloping downwards and not very deep. Small slopey holds and only friction for feet were between me and the top 5m above, plus the gear was unknown. Added to this the slightly greasy rock and my weary body made it less appealing, so I traversed left into the more obvious line to top out. One to leave for next time and better conditions:
It may seem that we hadn’t climbed a lot today, but our bodies told us otherwise. Plus these trips are not all about the climbing. Catching up and just being outdoors soaking up the atmosphere, which this place provided in bucket loads, is all part of it. Kym and I certainly felt we had had our fill. Plus I was driving the four hours home today and it would be nice to get back in daylight, which I managed only just. Walking out we came across Michael and Zed hauling lots of boulder mats in, we wished them luck thinking the conditions may not be what they were expecting. No matter, just like us having being spat off several routes, they will hopefully still have fun:
Sandbagged 