Sixes were in the air. The 6th moon phase was on display with a 66% waning gibbous moon. Lighting the path as Mario and I aimed for a first light start at Cosy Corner, at 6am. Driving out yesterday the moon was hidden behind a blanket of clouds. Today it look very different. Maybe for that reason the kangaroos and wallabies were way more lively. It felt like they were firing warning shots across the front of the bonnet. Within 500m three hopped from behind the trees and undergrowth into my path. I drove out slowly, watching carefully:
Down with the family for the long weekend, Mario was keen to sneak a climb in. This meant I had a good hour and quarter by myself in the car on the drive down to Conto Campsite, where they were staying. Not quite sure what to listen to I let Spotify pick a mix based on Watershed. The South African, as opposed to the American band. Turning out to be an aptly named band when Mario told me that it had rained fairly consistently during Friday. Half an inch may not seem like much, but the cliff tops are the perfect watershed for the cliffs:
The term watershed can mean an area that collects and directs water to a specific point, or can describe something that results in a notable change. The South African band used it to symbolises the positive change made when they formed the band, while the American band used it to honour the Newark Watershed feeding Pequannock River. The rivers name comes from a Lenape word meaning ‘cleared land ready or being readied for cultivation’. So for the Delaware Indians, it relates to the second meaning of the word but not in a good way:
Now back to Cosy Corner, where the even-grained granitic gneiss had channelled Friday’s rainfall to the low points along the cliff face. Water was still dripping down some of the cracks, and oozing from under flakes. The limestone and flowstone looked particular uninviting, and having soaked up moisture some of the black streaks glistened. But where the granitic gneiss lay bare, other than for the red lichen that makes the rocks glow a wonderful colour in the early morning and late evening light, the rock was dry and the friction was on point:
The place is not to be confused with the Bay of Fires in Tasmania, which displays a similar landscape with red lichen covered Devonian granite. Mario was however on fire, armed with his above trademark No.4 Camelot. Without verbalising it I offered to be his belaying tour guide, seeing it was only his second visit here. Pointing him towards the lines he hadn’t been on before. Keeping in with the theme of six, we jumped on a couple of routes in the guide and the four routes Howsie have put up here that are not in the guide:
Sorry to say Rongy your and my lines from our last trip here were looking very unpleasant. They will have to wait until the next trip here for their second ascent. We didn’t hit anything too serious grade wise. Not that worried Mario who enjoyed the routes finding they all provided interesting and worthy climbing. With sufficient gear, most of the time. The two stand outs were those in the above and below images of Mario on lead, which should make Howsie happy. They also happened to be the two climbs with a disconcerting, but not too silly, runout:
But as for grades, this crag is probably the place where I reckon they really are all over the shop. And just based on today that could be said for old and new routes alike, with some over and some under graded. Not that I was able to subjectively add to this discussion today. I felt like I was climbing like a cabbage. There are plenty of excuses I could put out there such as being weary from yesterday, getting used to my new shoes, having had two early starts on the trot, or just feeling my age. All I can say is I am glad Mario was happy to bag all the leads:
It was finally time to call it, but not before checking out Wave Wall. Despite hinting a day or two back there was a climb he was keen to play on in this amphitheatre, Mario conceded it all looked a little too steep and pumpy for today. I was both pleased about that, and that we had wandered in here. In a similar theme to my climbing today, I lost my way entering the area by trying to get through some scrub. Nearly stepping on this Southwestern Carpet Python (Morelia imbricata), one of the six species of the genus Morelia found in Australia:
Sandbagged 