I dread to think how many times I have walked into Wilyabrup. Hundreds for sure, but how many hundreds I have no idea. And for a great many of those trips we have been the first people at the crag. If you haven’t already guessed from my posts, I like early morning starts. Today Seb and I walked down a little later than usual, but we were still the first to wander to down the track. With a car already parked up before we got there, you may ask how we could be sure that no one had gone down for a hike, run, or just to get their Instagram image:
The evidence was clear. Not one but three cobwebs stretched between the vegetation on either side of the track. Unbroken, and looking extra stunning as a result of beads of water generously drizzled over them. The spiders were out of sight, no doubt hiding in the vegetation. We didn’t trace the trigger lines to see if we could spot them. Instead ducking underneath and leaving their webs intact behind us. I remarked to Seb that in all my time of coming down here I cannot recall ever seeing webs across the track like that:
The beads of water should give an indication for the slightly later, but not by much, start. It had been raining overnight and the threat of more hung all around us. The forecast suggested we had an hour or more before the risk of precipitation should ease to nothing. The day could have felt very wintery with messy waves crashed in, a threatening cloudy sky, and wet rock. The temperature is what gave it away, there was no need to rug up not even when we first arrived:
It was great to see Seb was not put off getting out this morning. In fact I doubt wild horses could have kept him away. He was keen, very keen. As such I had already formulated a bit of a plan for the day, and it all started like yesterday with a trad line on a wet traverse. Quite a few grades easier, so while the conditions may have made the heart beat a little faster I felt it was well within his ability. It certainly had the desired effect and the section, which many people find tricky when the rock is dry, had him on edge:
Pulling through the crux, Seb went on to establish the belay. Perched halfway up Steel Wall with a great view. This is where one of Lou’s cams, which I recently bought of her, got its first use. The trad leading teaching continued, as I assessed each placement and I made suggestions. Noting the spacing between gear, whether it was the best selection of nut size, the angle a cam had been set, etc. For the most part the gear was bombproof, and even those I could pick a fault with were reasonable it’s just they could have been better:
As a dive instructor Seb gets the safety aspect, and takes it seriously. Eager to hear what I had to say and keep learning more. Each time I reminded him that he should also assess and provide any comment he had on my placements. Not that he had much chance to do that. I sent him up the second trad pitch to the top, during which he found not one but two great pink tricam placements. Another person has been converted to paying homage to the use of the pink tricam. You may laugh but there is a bit of a global following:
An ode to a pink tricam (https://www.swarpa.net/~danforth/climb/sinkthepink.html) exists. I don’t know why but many people are drawn to wanting to place this piece of gear. After two fine trad leads, which had him beaming, it was time to turn it up a notch. This time on bolts. We rapped back to the halfway ledge and I was most disgusted, as a few others who read this may be, when Seb casually reached up to clip the first bolt. Not needing to pull any of the start moves. Tall people have the advantage on most routes:
Being able to reach past sections shorter people need to work. There are the occasionally routes that have a section that has compressed moves, which taller people struggle with. But they are few and far between. Seb ate up the sports line, and then we rapped back down. This time I had a lead, up a rather nervous trad line that I would not have suggested he lead just yet. I laced the bottom half with six small placements all of which were pretty good. I think each time I climb this line I find more gear:
After that however it gets run out, and there is only one other piece of gear way up on the wall near the top. A narrow slot that most people, not that I’ve seen many people want to try this route, don’t find. It was the perfect place for one of Lou’s smaller cams, so it had been a good buy. Seb watched on nervously, as I inched my way up. Probably thinking I was a little mad when I would stop to fiddle my camera out of its protective case. Then after taking an image of the gear, fiddle the camera back in the case:
He lapped the route up, stating he was glad I had led it. While I have thrown him on a few trad lines some of which I’ve known people get scared on, each line has been carefully considered. And a bit like Sam from work, Seb has a hankering for trad. With a calm head, an eye for how to place protection, and gaining far more satisfaction from popping gear in than just clipping bolts. Not everyone has it or gets it as quickly as I’ve watched them progress. It’s cool to observe and I’m lucky to have the time to help them on the journey:
Time was catch-up with us and there was a choice. Another lower grade trad line, a real peach of a corner. Or a sport line that was going to be at the upper end of Seb’s current ability, but would see him scale the mighty Steel Wall from top to bottom. The images give away his choice. While he had really enjoyed today’s the trad climbing, he just couldn’t resists pushing himself. As suspected it was a battle, but one he preserved with and conquered. Which I was pleased about, otherwise I would have had to jump on the sharp end to finish it off:
Sandbagged 