On Thursday the plans that had been laid for Friday were scuppered. Howsie had fallen victim to some unwanted lurgy. My mind was however already prepared for heading out somewhere, as opposed to be stuck in front of a computer living the real life version of Utopia. Alternative plans were solidified after a few quick messages with Howsie. I may have been messaging him to make him jealous or more likely to test just how sick he really was. Trying to enticing him to head out, after all he may have only had manful. He stuck to his guns:
As such I went solo and had a slightly later start, allowing me to avoid the worse of the dawn period when kangaroos can suddenly appear from nowhere for much of the journey. The sun was already well above the horizon as I rolled down the dusty and corrugated dirt track into Wilyabrup. The original plan for today was to head to Moses Rocks, which would have meant fairly cruisy and relaxed routes. Instead I was now drawn to check out a possible new line at the main cliffs of Wilyabrup, one that looked a little too tricky to try ground up with no inspection:
In addition to trying the new line, I did my usual routine of running up six lines twice. I jumped on the possible route after four other lines, so was a little worn down. So while I couldn’t pull the moves, it seemed climbable as a fully trad line. If I did manage to unlock it on a clean ascent, which I am certainly not confident of in my current form, it would probably be the hardest route I have ever climbed. It’s now playing on my mind as I wonder if I am capable or not. So we shall see if I am committed enough to project it, something I do not normally do. I did however persist, after seeing all the snake skins, and was successful in finding my scaly friend:
One of the reasons I was keen for a less strenuous session on Friday, was that Sam and I had organised to head to Smiths Beach on Saturday. In contrast to Moses Rocks this is not a place to climb when you are weary. And is certainly not everyone’s cup of tea by a long chalk, but Sam was keen to see what it had to offer. My hopes were hinging on him loving it. That way, as Mario had kindly offered a few weeks back for me, I could kick back and second up the routes. Having the safety of a rope above me would mean I would not need to keep my mental state in check to the same degree:
It was again a bit of a later start. This was a little risky in view of the orientation of the cliffs, meaning it gets the sun from early on. But again Sam, hopefully leading everything today and as such spending more time on the routes, would have to battle with that more than I would. As it was, while we climbed in the sun the whole morning the temperature was never too bad. And even better Sam lapped the place up, and was more than happy when I offered him lead after lead. I have after all I have led nearly all the routes countless times before, and it is so much more fun to unlock a climbs secrets on lead:
The only negative with this place, is that I rarely see any creatures of interest. The Purple Rock Crab (Leptograpsus variegatusis) is about as good as it gets. It is however pretty cool when you find them half way up a rock face as this one was, leaving you wondering why they bothered to go so far up. These crabs are also known as Purple Swift-footed Shore Crabs, but this one wasn’t moving at all. Not even after Sam had placed the cam and moved on. Allowing me to take a snap, before removing the contraption that had so rudely interrupted what was probably a very relaxing morning for the crab:
Sam was moving reasonably fast and thoroughly enjoyed five fine lines on Harbour wall. The rounded holds and need to at times trust friction, and not much else to stay on the wall, didn’t faze him. The area is rarely visited, so on occasion the surface of the rock can be a bit gritty. This resulted in the occasional foot slipping off, before Sam composing himself. Harbour wall is however tamer than the pièce de résistance of Smiths Beach, being Camelot Wall. This wall has holds just a rounded but the cracks are that bit more flared, and all of is thrown at you on a steeper wall:
While I was still enjoying the stress free experience of seconding the routes, I did wonder whether I should have offered to have a lead. Especially as it became clear that having taken on lead after lead was starting to drain Sam’s stamina. Just when the routes were getting that bit more gnarly, and the intensity of the sun was starting to increase. But he seemed to be enjoying the challenge digging deep and managed to battle his way up two lines on this wall. With each one taking him close to half an hour to complete, with what seemed to be an almost continual audience, as people out for a hike stopped and observed our antics:
Sandbagged 