Staring down the barrel of a four week stint in which I am likely to abstain from touching rock, I felt like I really needed to get out this weekend. Sadly, as seems to be a bit more of a common occurrence, the stars just wouldn’t align for other folk and I again had to fly solo. But with such a long break from climbing coming up it was an easy decision. Not to say I have not been getting out heaps, not only weekend climbs and walks but also midweek walks on the beach. The other day, as I walked the poodles, the wave line was littered with By-the-Wind-Sailors (Velella vellela):
My rationale for including the above image in this post is both because I really like it and it shows the blue colour that they should exhibit. You may recall I found a completely transparent colourless one of these walking out of Moses Rocks recently (https://sandbagged.blog/2022/06/19/bubbles/). Today I was not going back to Moses, in fact I was pretty undecided where I would end up. As I drove westwards, far later than I would normally be on the road, I was guided by where the clearer skies were. That happened to be to the north, which meant I aimed for Smiths Beach:
I have never come across anyone else climbing here, in fact I don’t think many people have been and those that do, tend not to come back. Today I was hoping for a quiet day away from people, but I miscalculated the fact that it was still the school holidays. The carpark and surf break at the main bay were packed, and the coastal walking track was also getting a lot of traffic. Many walked right past were the climbing is, oblivious of the zawn and as such missing out on the stunning sight across the bay to Canal Rocks:
And of course on a day like today, with the recent full moon only just starting to wane and still pulling in a good tide, there is the splendour of the waves rolling in and crashing into the Zawn. And crash they did today, with one wave making it all the way to my rope as it hung at the base of the crag. For that wave I was high up enough to avoid being doused, and the risk reduced as the order of the climbs I had selected resulted in me moving leftwards away from the ocean. The walkers that did stop, I am pleased to say, quietly watched and then went on their way:
This allowed me to stay focused and not seem rude by ignoring them, and keeping focused is pretty important here. More than most climbing spot in the south west. Many of the routes are reasonably steep and for some reason you always seem to feel on edge. In part the rounded nature of the rock, but also the steepness fo the lines. Add that to the fact that it is a bolt free zone, meaning you have to fiddle trad gear in while feeling like you are only just hanging on. Probably why people tend not to come here a second time, there loss I say:
Above is the remains of a bolt anchor, one Kym had installed when he found this place shortly before I cheekily came along and established the majority of the new lines. We had a chat about the bolts and agreed there was enough gear both on the lines, but also for belays. So he, at the time did a really good job of concealing the few he had installed. However, over time they have become exposed again. Not that anyone but a climber would ever find them. Today I stuck to Camelot Castle which has six great lines, plus one variant which I didn’t jump on:
The other walls were in the shade and pretty soppy, plus this is the steepest wall so provides very engaging climbing. Despite the short nature of the wall, with mere 10m routes, this crag certainly doesn’t hold any punches and I certainly feel like I have worked myself. The whole time I was out I looked high and low for one of nature’s treasures, and finally as I walked out I found a solitary mushroom. But I have not been able to identify it. No matter it was a very fun trip out, and I feel like a great way to ease into the next four weeks away from rock.
Sandbagged 