Back in the era when cassette tapes were all the rage, I had an album titled Greatest Western Themes. It got a good workout. There’s something about the music from the older westerns that I kinda like. One composer stood out on this album, Ennio Morricone. In addition to his previous achievements, once he moved into composing scores for cinema he clocked up some 400. It was however his western themes that saw him rise to international stardom. One still regarded as ‘one of the most recognizable and influential soundtracks in history’:
The title of this particular film is apt in some ways for today’s adventure. It all began on a dark morning, when the unmistakable sound of drops hitting the veranda roof made the very clear statement that the weather had arrived early. The room lit up when I turned my phone on to check the radar. It hinted it was moving south east and hadn’t made it to where we were going. The radar like the forecast, when checked yesterday, was full of misinformation. The wipers stayed on for most of the journey into Bunbury and from there up the hill:
You may well be asking why we would be going to Welly Dam, after all my posts about how tough this place can be. And you would be doubly right to question my reasoning based on my confessions about the injuries I am managing. However, the weather system was forecast to hit the capes coming in from the west. So we decided the inland option was better, and if it had been dry here it would have been fine. It was not. We were not rained out but the lichen covered sections had turned all spongy from soaking up the moisture:
Even the bare granite was moist to touch. This meant the friction was nothing less than pants. As a result we crimped, pulled, and generally held onto each hold much harder than we normally do. Not the best for my elbows in the state they are, and on the third line my left one protested with a solid twinge. It was time to come back down, and let Howsie lead that one. Rightly or wrongly I went back up with the rope above me, being very careful of the angle I loaded the arms as I went. It was definitely time to break out the kettle and biscuits:
The tea kit was loaded into the car yesterday, with biscuits added as an extra bonus. Being something we do not often have in our house. There were no illusions it would feel tough today, even if it was dry. We haven’t been coming often enough to be ready for what this place, like no other in the South West, does to your body. And today, more than most times, the brew was very welcome as we watched the Australian Ringnecks (Barnardius zonarius) get closer and closer. Invading our space so much I thought they may eat out of my hand:
The parrot in the image became camera shy and froze, despite my hand being right under its beak with tasty morsels on offer. And then flew off with its mates as my fingers brushed its feathers. With the entertainment having flown off, it was back to the rock. Where I let Howsie take all the leads. Pleased that he was keen to take on the slippy holds and risk the falls. With the safety of the rope above me, my brain wasn’t making me hold on quite as tight as they would with on lead. For the penultimate climb Howsie popped his head over the top:
Just to have a look. He called down that he could see what looked like Bunny Orchids. This resulted in me steering him towards a route, for the last climb, that would see us top out and have to walk down. He seemed keen, and with the somewhat painful climbing behind us the focus was now on dainty little flowers. Using the information I recently read up on, I got all excited. As can be seen above we found a bunch of them with small crinkly leaves. Added to that it looked like the petals were hugging the column, so they could be one of two types:
I’ve not seen either before, so whichever it was I would have been happy. Back home after much checking out of the details we captured on film, looking at my books, and researching several online guides and databases, I am pretty sure these were Crinkle-Leafed Bunny Orchids (Eriochilus dilatatus subsp. undulatus). Even better we found one plant that was a lutea form, striped of the usual colours and only displaying pale hues. While I won’t say what falls under each, you could say that today we sampled The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly:
Sandbagged 