Quality over quantity

Our 2006 Roads and Tracks Road Map of Western Australia, prepared by a potentially dodgy publisher on the basis that the contact for them was a ‘bigpond’ email address was once again misleading.  The road names had potentially changed or swapped in places, and many of the dirt roads were shown as sealed and vice versa.  As such I have no doubt I took a meandering path on the back roads from the Stirling Ranges National Park to Cheyenne’s Beach.  No matter I rolled up to find Ron deflating his tyres ready for the sandy track to our destination:

Kym, Jim, and Ange were also there so we almost had the full contingent of (relatively) older climbing crew of the South Coast, with only Jon as the missing link.  The familiar and somehow endearing bickering, needling, and cajoling started almost straight away.  It was great to catch up with everyone, and from what I heard it has been a while since the crew has been out together.  We were heading to Lost World, a place I’ve been to twice before.  One successful day out and one not so, which I will come back to a little later on:

Jim hasn’t been out climbing for a few months, after being knocked off his bike by a dog which has caused him no end of grief.  Today, as such, he was out for a bit of top rope soloing to see, in his own words, “if I can still climb”.  Ron and Ange eyed up a fun single pitch climb to warm up on, and Kym and I sat there with no real idea of what to do.  During some of my south coast trips we have been on a mission.  A new crag to check out, a first ascent or two that was itching to be climbed, or some gnarly classic we were keen to test ourselves one.  But today there was none of that:

Eventually I let Kym, who knows the area way better than I do, lead me to a long abseil all the way to the base of the cliff where a three pitch route called Blitzkrieg started.  It began with a bang, a steep and awkward pitch the grade of which that was heavily debated.  Was it a 20, 19, or 18?  No matter the number jumping onto it cold and not being overly used to the south coast granite climbing style it felt hard.  There was even a section where you have little choice but to act like a beached whale, lie down and gracefully worm your way upwards:

It had just about everything on it, making the whole climb super interesting and engaging.  Including a clump of Coastal Sun Orchids (Thelymitra granitora), which are found in shallow soils on granite outcrops along the south coast, sadly the flowers were not open as shown a couple of images above.  And just below the vegetation in the image below I found some Southwest Granite Snail Orchids (Pterostylis jacksonii) surivisng in a thin layer of moss, sadly past flowering and wilting away.  These being found in ‘moss on granite outcrops’ along the south coast:

It was the longest route at Lost World, in part due to the long rising traverses that allowed the line to avoid towering blank faces of granite by meandered its way along the weaknesses comprising flakes and cracks. These ranged in width from barely finger tips through to full arm bars, and the route also included a couple of spicy vertical sections.  Needless to say Kym and I had an absolute blast in an amazing position, and of course a backdrop that few crags even along the south coast can match:

Once on top we caught up with the rest of the crew, Jim found that he could still climb and Ange and Ron fired up after a fun warm up were heading down to jump on the route Kym and I had just had such a blast on.  Coming down this way is as much about catching up with Kym, and his family, as it is the climbing.  So we grabbed a bite to eat and chilled out pondering what next.  The multi-pitch route had been such fun that we plumped for a second multi-pitch climb, one that Rongy and I had attempted to get on during my second less successful trip here:

On that visit we managed the first abseil and were about to go down the second when the storm hit.  Huge raindrops transformed the granite slabs into a waterfall, made even more exhilarating when the lightning started.  Today was a complete contrast, and I had the glory of leading the first pitch up Cloud Street at 16, which followed an unusual dolerite dike with different holds to the rest of the area.  Kym then padded us to the top on the delicate slab of Silver Lining again 16 , which I had previously done in the rain.  Both pitches were crackers on clean rock with no vegetation, and hence no orchids:

Back on top there was no sign of Ron and Ange, but we found Jim.  His hands had given up on him so was just packing up.  We were not sure what to do next, but he had suggested earlier we try a route he had not seen anyone repeat.  And also a new line that Ron had secretly put up some time back.  This time, and under the watchful eye of Jim we hit a couple of single pitch routes.  I got the feeling that I had led Schmidchen Schleicher at 17 on my first trip here, but checking my post from that trip I hadn’t.  Kym’s toes were starting to complain, so he was happy to hand me the rope again for one last climb:

Ron’s new route, Panel Beater, was not here on my last two trips, and Jim was keen to see someone lead it and give a second opinion.  It may have even been the second ascent.  After climbing it the grade like the first route of the day created a bit of heckling, based on all the routes I did today I’d struggle to give it more than an 18, possibly only 17.  Not the 19 that Ron adamantly claims it deserves, but that was not the only bickering that was going on.  As when Ron and Ange finally topped out there was the sorting of gear, and the need to make sure something had not ended up in the wrong rucksack as can at times happen:

Ron’s route Panel Beater, whether 19, 18 , or 17 was great fun and on the way out we discovered where the name had come from.  The track was wet on the day he and Ange had come here to establish the route, and as they drove in the car slipped where the tracked was angled sharply to one side.  This resulted in a bit of panel beating needing to be undertaken.  The banter that might have some worried carried on all the way out, and as we sorted the gear between the cars were we parted ways.  It was a fitting way to end yet another very enjoyable day out with the old’uns, although that I said only Jim is older than I am:

The evening went by relatively quickly.  Firstly topping up on tea, then playing ping pong with Tessa as Beau ran round as the ball boy.  Meg had made a lovely homemade quiche for dinner, and after a bit of grown up chat once the kids had finally drifted off, we all hit the sack.  Claire was up early and made us breakfast, as Kym and I pondered our choices for the morning.  It was going to be a morning session only, to allow me to head home at a reasonable time.  A trip to West Cape Howe was tempting but the conditions would mean the rock would likely be damp and in the shade:

Many of the other options, which didn’t have a long hike in, faced east and would be subject to the swell.  And while being a paltry two meter swell, something Lisa would consider bobbing in the water off Peppy Beach in, here on the south coast that could result in a fair bit of spray.  The final decision, right or wrong, was East Side about a twenty to thirty minute hike from the Blowholes.  A crag that see’s very, very few visitors and as such there was no track to follow when we worked our way through the, at times, head high bush:

Kym did well and we found our way there with no detours or backtracking required.  And on arrival the magnificent position and view made us realise we had made a good choice.  As seen above a two meter swell was indeed pretty serious.  The 25m crag was small compared to where we were yesterday, but it felt like it towered above us.  Higher than it did due to the proximity to the waves.  It was also pretty steep with sheer faces, cracks, and corners.  Some overhanging, and that just added to the intimidating south coast experience that is strangely enjoyable:

Feeling the seriousness of the place, also makes you question the grade at which you want to climb.  An accident here would become a massive situation, boat and helicopter access wouldn’t work.  And with no defined track the rescue from above would be a logistical nightmare.  As such I flaked the rope out to avoid the risk of it becoming a knotted mess as Kym would lead us out on Sea Serpent, a snaking grade 14 line.  And as soon as I had finished a wave got that bit close, then another, and finally a third captured in the above image:

The swell eased off again and Kym set off with the dripping rope below him.  Soon finding himself on clean dry rock, while I watched out to sea waiting for the next descent set to come in which it didn’t do.  It was weird how hard a grade 14 climb could feel just because your nerves are more on edge, but it may also have been because it was a fairly sustained so it kept you on your toes.  Or maybe I was making excuses, because our options for the next route, and it was my lead, were a bumbly grade 10 or bumping things up to grade 17 on the crag classic:

I certainly waivered as I stood below the steep corner crack, weighing up my ability to take it on.  Kym meanwhile kept providing words of encouragement, until the biggest wave of the lot came in and completely drenched him.  I managed to be that bit further back from the edge and stayed dry, but wasn’t keen to hang about anymore.  Tying in and going for it, I won’t lie and I was nervous.  It was sustained, technical, and committing.  Everything you would want from a classic, making it completely absorbing and thrilling.  Luckily the crack gobbled up gear helping to calm my nerves:

Heads and Tails certainly earnt every one of the three stars it is given in the guidebook, and I’d be keen to come back here on a slightly calmer day to try some of the other lines.  But we agreed that there was little point in going back down today, the wind was picking up just enough to increase the impact of the swell.  Also if we were to go back down we’d have to resort to the grade 10 bumbles, as the remaining lines all started at grade 20 and the conditions today made the thought of trying them pretty undesirable:

It’s also fair to say we had just climbed two classic routes in conditions that elevated the experience significantly, and we wanted to end on a high.  Instead we kicked back on the little bench that Jon had made here years back, with a 30m drop into the ocean at our feet.  Taking it all in while having a snack or two.  Eventually, sorting through the wet salty gear and packing up for the fight through the bush back to the car.  Armed with walking sticks to ward of any unseen snakes in the thick undergrowth:

Those that know me, will also be glad to hear that I wore shoes and not sandals for today’s venture.  I’m probably not making this sound particularly inviting to most, but as Kym said we ended my weekend away with a proper south coast experience.  Difficult to find access, getting scratched up by the bush, a remote location, brilliant views, bundles of atmosphere, superb rock, and classic climbing.  We may not have climbed much on the second day but the whole experience was quality through and through:

Back at the house we had a well-deserved cuppa and it was a final catch-up with Meg, Tessa, Claire, and Beau before I said my thankyous and goodbyes and hit the long road home.  Passing kilometres upon kilometres of bush and wondering what I might find if I stopped, which I only did the one time to check out one of the many very obvious patches of Scented Sun Orchids (Thelymitra macrophylla), which seemed to be scattered along the roadside for much of the journey.  And while it was great to get away, it was equally lovely to get home: