Tipping the scales

With an extra day in hand to get into nature this working week, and considering I have not touched rock once in September, you may be surprised to hear that I opted not to climb today.  I could be pleased with myself for showing restrain in not going too hard, to avoid the risk of aggravating the stupid self-inflicted injuries sustained this year.  I may not have touched rock in three weeks, for various reasons, but I have been back on my boulder wall.  Pulling on those plastic holds, which is way more intense than the climbing I do on real rock:

Even then I have been sensible.  Not going too hard, even though it is so tempting to push that bit more.  The flow of climbing, for me, is intoxicating drawing me in and making me yearn for more.  Lisa will recall many an outdoor trip in the red centre where I have said ‘just one more climb’, even as the sun starts to belt down on us making things uncomfortably hot.  Just one more lap on the boulder wall is more risky, being harsher on the tendons and muscles.  So I have spaced my two sessions and also kept the pace and problem selections reasonable:

You could say I am endeavouring to tip the scale in my favour.  We shall see if my approach pays off when I finally get to head out for a climb on Sunday, with Adrian.  It has been a while since I have picked on a British idiom, and for this post ‘Tipping the Scales’ seems apt.  It can be used to indicate two things, either to fiddle things to provide you with an advantage or to relate to a deciding factor.  It is a subtle difference but comes down to whether the scales were tipped by something that was considered or included by intent or chance:

For my Friday outing I admit there was very much intent but it still wasn’t a done deal that I would be rewarded.  Heading to the Meelup Regional Park.  And knowing a few spots where good orchids may be from Lisa and my visit here last year, which was only two week later in the season.  Not thinking I would walk too far, my tote bag only had a bit of fruit, muesli bar, and small bottle of water in it.  I started walking it was clear my intended advantage may not pay off, being very different conditions with the soil in many places still completely soggy:

To be honest I wasn’t completely surprised.  I did not however expect to be hit by the on and off showers.  The cool, cloudy, and damp conditions did tip to my advantage when I came across a Quenda (Isoodon fusciventer).  Usually foraging at dawn or dusk, these small marsupials are known to be active in the day especially during winter.  Coming to a complete standstill as soon as I caught the movement out of the corner of my eye, a bit like playing statutes.  It watched me, then decided it was safe to scamper in front of me across the path:

As the images show not all was lost on the orchid front.  I had popped into the Blythe Reserve in Dunsborough, before the main event, where just one or two Sandplain Donkey Orchids (Diuris tinctoria) out.  Better than nothing.  Then starting on the track along the Meelup Regional Park coast the first stretch takes you down towards the coastline.  Here a couple of Chapman’s Spider Orchids (Caladenia chapmanii), boosted my confidence.  They may have appeared in my last post but as I said in that, I make no apology for including them (again):

Other than the Chapman’s Spider Orchids and wonderful Quenda, there was nothing.  This resulted in my thinking that I wouldn’t walk too far changing.  Setting my sights on Eagle Bay to walk the entire coastal track in the park, which would be close to a ten mile round trip.  My pace had to pick up considerably.  Having had a late start to allow me to get some housework in, and needing to get back for other household duties.  Closing in on Eagle Bay I was rewarded with a single Hills White Spider Orchid (Caladenia longicauda subsp. Clivicola):

As I arrived at Eagle Bay a lonely Pink Fairy (Caladenia latifolia) was in the road reserve in the middle of the hamlet.  Worth including because of the mix of its name sake colour, along with paler shades.  There was no hanging about and it was straight back, continually scouring the sides to see if I had missed anything.  I hadn’t, or at least not that I saw.  Deciding to see if moving to higher ground may work in my favour, I threw the in Meelup Beach Lookout circuit.  The path leading up the ridge was muddy in parts, and again there was nothing to see:

Although it gave a great vantage point to watch the ocean.  It seemed calm enough for a snorkel.  Whales were in the bay, and two images up there is a bit of tail action.  It was here as I spent a few moments to soak in the view that I was missing Lisa and my traditional cuppa and cheese sandwich.  Having severely miscalculated my provisions, and rather daftly also skipped breakfast.  Walking across the top of the granite ridge the above cluster of colourful flowers of a Needle Leaved Chorizima (Chorizema aciculare subsp. aciculare) really stood out:

With their pink tinge, there were also a few Dunsborough Donkey Orchids (Diuris jonesii).  Bringing my Donkey Orchid species tally to five this season.  Just to prove I really was looking hard for orchids, despite my pace, I somehow spotted this single and oh so impressive Cape Mustard Orchid (Caladenia caesarea subsp. maritima).  Even though it was almost hidden from view behind some scrub.  While riding high from my Quenda encounter, this find tipped the hike into a new realm.  Having only seen the critically endangered orchid once before:

Having spent a bit of time atop, checking out a few finds and enjoying some whale watching.  When I got back down to the coastal track it was time to pick up the pace again.  No more orchids to report but as the day moved into the afternoon, the temperature had risen.  Bringing out a few scaly friends, bit of an abstract link to the theme but I’ll take it.  A female King’s Skink (Egernia kingii) saw me coming and scuttled into a crevice.  Deciding to make the herpers out there jealous I took a minute or two to wait.  Sure enough she popped out again:

Part of the coastal track is currently under repairs, which forces a deviation along the beach and over some rocky sections.  Working in my favour on the way back when it meant I stumbled across a male King’s Skink (Egernia kingii), who attempted to avoid my gaze by partially hiding in a bit of scrub.  But not working in my favour when, by choice, I decided to continue the rock hopping a bit further than necessary.  This turned out to be quite a long way, when there was no indication that a goat track would lead me back to the coastal path:

The rocks grew taller and steeper, requiring more effort to negotiate.  Energy levels were heading in the wrong direction, not by chance but by my own doing.  The provisions had been consumed some time back, and a weariness was coming over me.  Stepping off a particularly high rock either a foot slipped or I had tipped too far over and lost my balance.  After a forced few moments of rest to compose and check myself, I carried on battered and bruised.  On the plus side on the last stretch one more scaly friend, a Bobtail (Tiliqua rugose), came out to say hello: