Life is about to change for Sam and Michaela, as they prepare to bring new life into the world. The months leading up to this point have been way busier than anticipated, and Sam told me this was likely to be the last opportunity to get out for some “him” time. Like me getting outdoors is required to create balance in life. Depending on where our minds may be at it provides a time to allow us to reset, reflect, and/or simply appreciate, but always enabling us to immerse ourselves back into “the norm” with a positive outlook:
Unlike me, Sam has a few outdoor pursuits that compete for his time. But today climbing won out on account that the winds were not looking too favourable to catch a wave, which ranks higher on his list of preferences. That’s not a huge surprise as he has been surfing for a long time, whereas his first introduction to climbing was only in September last year. Since then he has only managed to squeeze in a handful of trips. Added to that his last trip out was all the way back in November, which was also when he had to be a sponge:
That day out was at Lost Buttress, where he needed to absorb hours of advice, hints, tips, and at times instructions from me, on the many aspects to take account of, when lead climbing. His absence from rock since then was not on account of having found it too much but, as alluded to before, the months have been packed with both the good and bad that can occur in life, at any or at times every turn. Indeed, he came away from buzzing, and keen to get out on some longer routes with a keen eye on Wilyabrup. Which is where we headed to:
With such a long period between touching rock I wasn’t too sure how he’d go, but as with all these forays it is best to take things one step at a time and see where the days leads you. Sam was already hinting he was keen to have a lead, so I guessed we would be hitting some familiar lower grade lines. This would allow him to ease back into leading, but also make sure the in-between climbs that he seconded were not too hard so as to tire him out. Understandably, he was happy for me to kick the day off, which I did with Glory (14):
Sam was more than happy with the choice. Recalling from a prior visit, this and the line next to it afforded a potential to say hello to a Carpet Python. Sadly just not today. Despite not seeing a snake, Sam was feeling good after the first climb, and racked up to take on Twenty Questions (12). A very aptly named route. Easy to make completely safe this line includes for many, including Sam, a very perplexing crux that keeps you pondering and questioning “how?”. After the climb and checking in on how he felt, it was obvious he was hoping for more:
So Hope (14) it was offering a second chance to search for a Carpet Python, while also being a very popular and truly classic climb. From the above images you may be able to tell I was trusting Sam’s ability. Applying my unorthodox belaying approaches, to allow some better images. This is not something I will do with just anyone, today however I was comfortable enough on account of Sam’s demeanour on rock, proven ability to place good and sufficient protection, and method of climbing being considered, calculated, and controlled. And while he missed the snake during the ascent, I was happy that he had instead been focusing on what really mattered, safe climbing:
I could tell he was keen to take a look, so he rapped back down to catch a glimpse of the short sections of the body curled up deep behind the flake. The skin covered with beautiful markings that are said to resemble the patterns used on oriental carpets. Back on the deck we pondered what next. This was swayed by a comment Sam made when we arrived, hinting he was intrigued by Steel Wall. The +30m vertical and clean wall is certainly an impressive sight, but he also said he would not be keen to lead anything on it. And I would certainly not have sent him up any of the direct lines, although Sirius was an option:
I pointed out how Sirius snaked up the wall. The first pitch (14) following a right trending flake before traversing left along a horizontal break that goes almost the entire width of the wall, providing plenty of air beneath your feet. I led this, and as Sam prepared to follow me the next arrivals rocked up. Setting up camp under and then climbing Hope, and as I watched them it was clear they too didn’t spot the snake. I also kept a close eye on Sam, especially on the traverse. A airy type of climbing that can take a little getting used to, but I needn’t have worried and it seemed to just add to his enjoyment:
For the second pitch (14), Sam needed to leave the comfort and safety of the great belay ledge to climb a couple of blocks, before stepping round the arête onto a fine but super exposed face. I didn’t tell Sam about the exposure. That was something I wanted him to experience without any preconceived notions or indeed realisation of what was to come. When he got atop the blocks and looked round the arête, and then down, it certainly had the desired effect. The smile somehow spread even further across his face, hinting at both excitement and a bit of fear. I watched the rope inch upwards at a slow pace, he was being careful and that was a good thing:
He took enough time for me to watch the second party finish on Hope, and then spot a third party arrive. They too set up camp under and climbed Hope and the leader again didn’t spot the snake. I didn’t get to watch the second go up, but comments from them later hinted he too didn’t see the snake. Obviously local knowledge is needed to spot the delights that while so close are hidden from view. Sam was understandably very happy with his leads, and said he had just enough mental power and strength in his forearms left to follow me up one more lead. So I picked the direct and rather steep The Unbolted and the Beautiful (16), which provided an achievable but very satisfying last climb:
Sandbagged 