Another inclement day, and this time is was Craig who joined me to brave the elements, not walking and hunting for orchids but for a climb. You may recall a few weeks back he joined us for a play at Moses Rocks, after a long absence from rock. I think he may have caught the bug again, as not only did he jump at the chance to get out this weekend but we are also scheming a short trip away in October. So today was both for fun, and also so he check where his stamina was at. He is a little worried he may not keep up with Kym Rongy and I, and therefore I suggested we head to Wilyabrup and pack in eight lines:
I had asked if there were any lines he was particularly keen to have a bash at leading, as I was expecting him to lead four of the eight routes. He only suggested one line, being Waterfall Second Folly direct start. This was probably not the best route to jump on straight up, so we started the session on the north facing wall of the Fat Chance area. Not only does this wall have some more sedate routes, but it also provided some welcome shelter. It was biting cold, clouds hung ominously in the sky and a strong southerly wind cutting across the coastline:
On the first route our fingertips were tingling from the cold, but the friction was great and we balanced our way up. I took the first lead, so by the time Craig jumped on the sharp end he was at least a bit warmed up. Today, in contrast to the view of a tranquil flat ocean that Lisa and I had seen yesterday, here on the exposed west coast the ocean was a mass of boiling white water. Big thunderous waves came in quick succession, and even quite far out to sea they became an indistinct blur of white. That was until they made land fall, sending spray high into the air:
Due to the northerly wind the continuous salt spray, which was giving the ocean a hazy appearance, didn’t head our way and the rock was lovely and dry. The tide and swell were such that the usually sandy beach, just to the south was just a mass of water. I’ve just checked the swell and it peaked at 7am today, which is when we arrived, tipping in at just shy of seven meters. Unlike yesterday’s ocean conditions today it didn’t make me think about snorkelling. It’s a good job that loose flakes such at the one above doesn’t have that same impact on me with climbing:
It is interesting when I hear people who don’t climb, claim without any understanding that climbing is very risky. Even if when they themselves partake in adventure sports, such as surfing or mountain biking, they still see climbing as having a higher risk level. What is so often overlooked is the slow and controlled nature of climbing. Making slow and deliberate decisions. All the time looking at how we can reduce the risk, as opposed to having to make quick changes of tactics when an unexpected wave comes in or the bike track conditions suddenly change:
I guess there is also the need to understand the mechanics of protection. Craig has these wonderful triangular wires and non-climbers, as well as some climbers, would struggle to appreciate just how good the above placement is. Today Craig had his head in the game placing good and trusting in his gear, and showing control and technique. We soon racked up four fine climbs meaning it was time to break out the thermos. A cuppa being most welcome, as we were about to move to the west facing wall and would be right in the path of the wind that still had a cold bite to it:
The cuppa did a great job, and I fired up my next line before Craig then took on the one route he had put forward before our trip out. I have to say that when he suggested the direct start to Waterfall Second Folly, I did wonder how much he might have remembered about this line. As it turned out not as much as he thought, and after the more friendly routes round the corner this one caught him a little of guard. But not so much as to not be able to get up it, and his stamina was certainly holding up well:
With the conditions as they were, we were not surprised to be the only people climbing today. But there were quite a few groups out for a walk, both above and below the cliffs. The second group arrived as we were on the penultimate route, and I gave them a bit of a start when I popped my head over the edge of the cliff while they were stood a healthy distance back from the edge admiring the view of the crashing waves. They then made a beeline to the base and arrived below just in time to watch Craig as he neared the top:
Craig told me that the cliffs of Wilyabrup were on some Facebook group that has a bucket list of places to see in the South West, which explains the increasing numbers of walkers. The walkers were however not the only observers of our antics today. This Southwestern Crevice Skink (Egernia napoleonis) watched us carefully before scuttling away in a crevice, as we got ready to climb right past it. These skinks are from the same genus as the King Skinks, and both are endemic to the South West of Western Australia and relatively common to see. But as with all things nature based, it always gives me a buzz to catch sight of them:
I was quietly hoping to also see a different reptile, and the place to see it was going to be on the last line of the day. Sadly despite the now blue sky and sun bringing out the skinks, there was no sign of any carpet pythons not even a discarded skin. It was a great morning out, as it always is, and Craig can now rest assured that he still has the skills and stamina required. Even leading us out on the last route, alpine style with a pack on. Also what he hadn’t considered is that both Rongy and Kym have hardly climbed for months, so the October trip is highly likely to be a pretty chilled and relaxed event. That said I have no issues with Craig dragging me out for a few more training days:
Sandbagged 