I’ve banged on about phrases from the homelands enough. So this time, for a change, I’ll start today with one from Australia. Some may recall the term being used by a prominent character from Australia’s longest running soap opera, which in four days’ time will have its 41st anniversary. While the use of the term in this show elevated its popularity, and resulted in it becoming an accepted national catchphrase, it first emerged in print some fifty years prior in the 1930s. And if you have not already guessed, I am talking about ‘flamin’ galah’:
It is stated as originally being used as an insult. These days however it is used in more of an affectionate way. While the Galah (Eolophus roseicapilla), one of Australia’s most abundant and familiar parrots, is a highly intelligent bird, the term makes use of its more light-hearted side. Known to act like a bit of a clown at times, the term is used to incite someone is acting like a fool or idiot. So what brought all this on you may ask. It was a huge flock of the Galah’s that flew above round us in circles, as Lisa and I went for a wander on the beach on Thursday:
Friday morning I traded the high-pitched and raucous “chi-chi” or “chill-chill” screeching of the Galah’s with the loud and harsh “karrak” or “kree” grating of the Forest Red-tailed Black Cockatoo (Calyptorhynchus banksii naso). These came and went during Howsie and my early morning climb, as we yet again graced the steep technical walls of Welly Dam. While the Forest Red-tailed Black Cockatoos flew on high, we were very pleased to discover that back at ground level that not one March Fly (Tabanidae) came out to feed:
As I belayed Howsie I did notice one White-kneed Mosquito (Aedes alboannulatus) land on my hand. This species is a potential spreader of Murray Valley encephalitis virus, a rare but potentially serious infection of the brain, That said this species is considered a poor transmitter compared to others. Plus, while it is possible to catch the virus in the South West of Western Australia, the risk is much lower than in the northern parts of the state. Not willing to take the chance and rather than take a snap I flicked it off, and didn’t spot any more:
Friday’s session was going to be a little shorter than usual, due to a meeting that Howsie had to get back for. We pondered whether to hit less lines and maybe try something a little more testy, or get some mileage in on the more well-rehearsed climbs. Not that these slightly lower grade routes are pushovers. We still needed to work to get them clean when we plumped for the latter option. Having to work a little harder when the morning came in cloudy with a light sprinkle. Raising the humidity, which resulted in the friction reducing a tad:
We were also weighing up the fact that we had plans to get out the next day, and did not want to wear ourselves out too much from the session at the dam. As is always the case we thoroughly enjoyed the before work session. Being outdoors in nature alone is reward enough; the climbing is an added bonus. Making us feel like we had accomplished heaps before most people’s days are only just getting going, as they focus on the humdrum of yet another day at work. On Saturday we were not restricted by return times:
Allowing us a slightly more relaxed start. Arriving at Smiths Beach after first light, and just as the sun’s rays were hitting the peaks in the landscape Scrambling into the zawn, the walls were damp. Whether from overnight salt spray or maybe the morning dew, the impact was the same. The first couple of lines were that bit more nervous. The dampness added to the insecurity of holds that were already affected by the uncomfortable gritty and flaky surface of the granitic gneiss. A sign, as with all trips here, that no one has been climbing here:
Maybe foolishly, my first lead was the first route I established at this intimidating place. It felt like a complete an utter sandbag and my muscles were screaming, as I tested the gear in earnest. In my head I could hear myself say you ‘flamin’ galah’. Howsie did a sterling job coming up second, a few images up. The workout took its toll, as he then took on his second lead on a steep route that could also be a sandbag, courtesy of Crag this time. I am however, pleased to say that as the morning wore on, the sun hit the walls drying them out beautifully:
There was no more testing of gear placements and as we had at the dam, we bagged three fine climbs each but took twice as long. The above image shows we had to work hard on the last route, a clear sign it was time to wrap things up. But before I wrap this post up, below is a video of a Purple Swift-Footed Shore Crab (Leptograpsus variegatus). Roof climbing as it was feasting on what are likely to be a non-biting species of Midge (Chironomidae), based on our experience of having to occasionally climb with swarms of them round us, until I disturbed it:
Sandbagged 