Lying in bed I could hear the rain falling in the darkness outside. The usually local crew I would badger about heading out for a climb were all doing family stuff or feeling crook. This did make me wonder whether to head out or just watch the outdoors from inside today. After all if I felt the need I could stretch my legs and get some fresh air by taking the poodles to the beach. Something Lisa normally does, but in her absence I have had to step up to the plate. I could also stretch my fingers by pulling plastic on the climbing wall in our shed, which has sat idle for quite some time now:
Just yesterday Josh had been keen to head to Moses Rocks, but he is playing it safe. With an ominous tickly throat, which could be a sign of the virus that has ruled the world for several years taking hold. My indecision didn’t last long, and not surprisingly I plumped for heading out. Climbing indoors is ok, but that is as far as I would go in describing it when compared it being outdoors. It was forecast to be another blustery day along the western coast. Resulting in a good swell and strong landward wind. So even if it did rain, the rock would dry quickly:
Being a solo mission, I plumped for Wilyabrup. I was pleased with my choice from the very start of the walk, as I spied an Autumn Leak Orchid (Prasophyllum parvifolium). And like at Castle rock last week I could find just the one. My destination was based on several factors. First, I was thinking of places where I could set up the anchors and not have to phaff about changing them for each climb. Indecently, having needed to check my spelling of the word phaff I discovered can also be spelt faff, according to the Collins dictionary. With the urban dictionary claiming this spelling it is an acronym, for something I won’t type here:
My second reason for picking this location was it has a relatively easy walk-in. After the big hike yesterday this seemed a good idea and might be kinder on my legs. Not that I seemed to be feeling any delayed onset muscle soreness, or DOMS, yet. That will no doubt come tomorrow when I am back to work, and sat at a desk for eight hours straight. Thirdly, although probably the main reason, I recently had a very fun solo session at Moses Rocks so felt the need for something different. I arrived to a, not unexpected, empty carpark and crag:
On arrival at the top of the crag I took a moment to soak in the great sound of the choppy swell and rush of the strong wind. The local crew should be able to pick from the above and below images that I had plumped for the picturesque wall, which deservedly adorns several coffee table climbing books. Steel Wall is a very fine geological feature, and when the evening sun sets on this sheer face the orange colours seem to leap out, it is quite spectacular. As with all solo session I came armed with an agenda:
Today this was to hit all the, reasonable, routes on the left side the wall. Starting from the left and making my way right to finish on the route in the centre of the wall, which is where the rope is hanging below. Unlike yesterday when I didn’t see anyone, today there were five separate family groups who came one at a time during my relatively short session. Each time making their way down the path that leads to where the left of the above rainbow ends. Giving them a great view of Steel Wall, and unfortunately me:
While each time they gave me a wave, I was pleased not to have any whooping or hollering or applause as I climbed, as can happen. Like me they were out to enjoy the place, and after watching me for a short while each group continued on their own journey. My choice of routes was indeed great and I enjoyed, the customary, six lines on a very fine wall, in a wonderful position, and surrounding by an invigorating atmosphere. As has occurred a few times with my outings of late, things slotted into place perfectly:
Despite a few rainbows coming and going they never resulted in rain falling where I was. Until all the gear was packed away and I was walking out, which is when it started but also set in. This meant I would not have to drape wet gear everywhere when I got home, which is always a plus. Another plus when I got to the car being that I had learnt from yesterday, and came prepared with provisions. Comprising a hot cup of tea to sip on the journey back. On my return the first thing I did was head down the beach with the poodles, resulting in one happy household:
Sandbagged 