Friday morning arrived at a time that most would not have realised existed. Lisa was still tucked up in bed, as I quietly rolled out, and went about my usual morning routine before I head out for a climb. This included pouring two cups of tea into thermos mugs, one for me to take and one to pop on the bedside table for Lisa to sip at a more reasonable time of the morning. Howsie chose Bob’s Hollow, for which it is worth a bit of an earlier departure, and he’d kindly offered to pick me up from home:
If he had rolled into our driveway the dogs would have kicked off, and woken not just Lisa but also the whole neighbourhood. So I left the house a little earlier than the agreed pick-up time, and started down the street on foot. Our aim was to be walking into the crag at sunrise. As it was we didn’t get to see a sunrise, or any pretty morning hues, with the sky at our destination being caked in grey looming clouds. Along the side of the track the bush was more of a low groundcover, still recovering from bushfires some years back:
The long, hot, and dry summer we have had hasn’t helped it’s recovery. Yellowing to brown leaves showing that the vegetation was under heat stress. Occasional limestone nodules and roots on the path meant we kept our eyes on the track, and we almost missed the above kangaroo. It was just a meter or two of the track, and bounded off to get a bit further away from us just as we were upon it. While we missed a chance for a closer look, by stopping before it hop away, at least we didn’t stub our toes:
There was a very slight intention to progress Howsie’s 2024, with a play on the one and only grade 24 route here. There are however a number of 21s, 22s, and 23s here that he has never been on, climbs he didn’t manage to get on in their respective years. Our pre-trip chat had alluded to a few 22s and one 21 that were likely candidates. Bob’s Hollow is a steep limestone cliff, overhanging for the most part. A very different style of climbing to our usual destinations, so before we would consider these routes there was a need to warm up:
After our warm up route, Howsie admitted to being pretty pumped and his expectations for what might occur dropped considerably. Neither of us come here often enough, and we really aren’t used to the steep powerful routes. In years gone by, we climbed here quite a few times a year, but in the last three years I’ve been here twice and Howsie has been maybe once. I didn’t feel too bad on the first line and decided to hit the grade 21, a line I had never been on before. It was steep and pumpy, and I nearly popped off a few times but somehow managed to bag it:
Howsie, to his credit, pulled the rope to give it a crack on lead. But with an already weary body, it made him work extra hard. Every time he fell off, and sat in the harness, he had to expend valuable energy to get back on the rock and repeat moves. This ends up quickly sapping what stamina he had left. The day continued like this, but he never gave up, and while we may not have bagged anything harder than that 21, he kept going. A 22 I had not been on before drew my attention, but when I got to the steepest section it was dripping wet and I retreated:
Considering the record breaking dry and hot this summer we are experiencing, we were surprised at how much seepage was occurring. Above you can see some plants, unfortunately weeds, taking advantage of the drip line from stalactites. Despite the all too quickly tiring arms, and in places wet rock, we bagged eight routes and had a lot of fun. The lower than expected grades didn’t dampen our mood. The fine dark sand at the northern end of the crag seemed to cake everything it touched. With the risk of the sand grains being fine enough to get through the protective sheaf of the rope:
So keeping it on the tarp was important, and each time we pulled the rope we aimed to get it to land on the tarp. Something we managed surprisingly well. Then midway through our morning, and while not looking were I was walking, I stubbed a toe on a root and took the top of it. The toe that is not the root. So for a while I had to make sure I kept not just the rope but also my foot on the tarp. And then once I popped my climbing shoes back on, which felt comfortable enough, this enabled some form of hygiene by preventing my foot from getting any grubbier than they already were:
Sandbagged 