Howsie and I decided we would head to completely different location in the morning, and that required an early’ish departure.  But not before we enjoyed breakfast at the campsite, helped break camp, and said goodbye to Rongy and Sarah.  They were heading back to Brisbane, and had work the next day.  Mikie didn’t need to pick the boys up from the grandparents until a little later, allowing him to head back to Eagles Nest to top rope solo a few of the longer lines.  For us it was a short hour drive to the top of Ocean Vista Drive:

This road snakes up the hill towards Mount Ninderry, from where views stretched all the way to the coast.  The houses on either side of this ridge were big and looked incredibly expensive.  Our sights however were not set on them, but the steep limestone cliffs that hung off the peak that lay ahead.  Mount Ninderry is located in a 150 hectare nature reserve, and once we hit the tree canopy the place took on a tropical feel.  Ferns stretched across the understorey, tall lush trees rose up, and vines hung down.  As we walked there was a rustle:

A large Lace Monitor (Varanus varius) made its way through the vegetation appearing and disappearing out of sight, and then going silent.  We thought we had lost it, when Howsie spotted it making its way up a tree.  Another name that is used for them is a Tree Goanna, and while on occasion they forage on the ground they mainly move about in the trees and shelter in tree hollows.  This one certainly looked very at home easily walking up the vertical trunk, but as it went higher an Australian Magpie (Gymnorhina tibicen) started to swoop it:

We left the two to argue it out, and carried on towards the Octopuses Garden.  A place the two climbers who hadn’t thought so highly of Eagles Nest had suggested.  This was in part because we asked them about places that were in shade all day, but they also suggested a route here that they considered worthy.  The reason for wanting shade is that today was going to be hot, we would break the thirty degree barrier.  And despite the wonderful shade, the air hung heavy.  The humidity was up at 95% and we were already dripping with sweat:

The route they had suggested did indeed look fun, and Howsie was keen to jump on it.  The conditions and last six days of climbing took their toll, and we climbed slowly.  The moves felt hard but we pulled through them one by one.  Looking for any chance to get a stance and rest where we could.  We both got a clean lead and thoroughly enjoying the route.  I had also spied the namesake climb, a classic route according to the guidebook but only gaining two stars on The Crag.  A full on roof climb that came out from a cave onto a steep headwall:

I was really keen to try it, but wanted to see how I was feeling.  If I failed on the roof it would have been really difficult to retrieve the gear, and the only sensible way to clean the line would be to climb it on second.  As such we both needed to feel comfortable in getting up it.  That is partly why I pulled the rope on the first climb, and that lead was enough to tell me that taking on a route three grades harder on much steeper terrain was probably dumb.  Howsie agreed, already being satisfied with his first lead and the crag booty he found on it:

An extender, like my crag booty in near new condition.  And with not another soul in sight it was his for the taking.  We checked the area for other possible routes but everything else was harder or looked average.  So we packed up and wandered round to the Enter the Ninja Sector, timing it well because the sun was just moving round enough for the mighty wall to be in shade.  We had our eye on two lines up this near 30m wall.  Starting on the lower graded route of the two, to see how we went on the more technical slabby climbing on offer:

We again pulled the rope and both led the first route, which was great fun.  And it was then that I wished I still had that stick clip, as the first bolt on the second line was a dizzying eight meters up with a nasty ground landing waiting below.  We were lucky and were able to sensibly clip the first bolt when we rapped off the first line.  The route really kept us focused, the bolts being a bit more spaced with some delicate and airy climbing between them.  On the plus side being out of the tree canopy there was a slight breeze that helped cool down:

It was an epic route and very worthwhile, and I also found a Dubious Dtella (Gehyra dubia) high up on the face with the below skin it had recently shed.  We were however now both really tired, so I am not sure why I suggested we look for one last climb, but I did.  We walked round the tracks looking for a line of ring bolts on a lonely pillar.  Back under the canopy it felt hot again and we sweated our way round.  Just as I was about to say let’s give up, Howsie said he found it.  My response wasn’t very enthusiastic, but it had sounded a good route:

Seeing I had suggested it, I should at least give it a go.  I only managed to get to the second bolt and then simply couldn’t read the route and/or didn’t have the gas left in the tank to pull the moves.  I looked down at Howsie, and he didn’t seem overly keen to try it.  The decision was made.  We packed up, walked back down through the fern covered slopes, across the thankfully short paddock section in the blazing sun, and once back at the car we cranked the air conditioner to its coldest setting and sank into the seats:

While we may have only got three routes in, it was definitely worth the short diversion of the highway to experience the place.  And should I be lucky enough to have another climbing trip here, I’ll be sure to get back at the Octopuses Garden for that amazing looking roof climb.  For now however we drove the hour back to Mikie and Helen’s house, where we sorted through the gear and got cleaned up.  The idea being to shout everyone a meal out, but before we could do that Bryn wanted to show us that he could ride his bike without training wheels:

Then with training wheels back on he and Rupert rode their bikes ahead of us, as the four of us walked down the road with Maggie in the pram.  We went to the RSL club, which was huge and looked to boast a good menu.  First priority however was to get a drink in, and even I got a pint feeling like this one was deserved.  Everyone’s meal was really yummy, and we washed it down with a second round.  Even I had another pint, as the first one had gone down so well.  Managing to also sneak in a takeaway collection of desserts, for the grownups only:

It was a lovely way to wrap up the last seven days.  And while our flight home wasn’t until Saturday evening, Howsie and I were content not to head out for a final climb in the morning.  There was plenty of time, but the heat and humidity was up and we were pretty toasted from everything we had packed in.  For the real nerds I’ve even added a few stats of what we achieved climbing wise, and it isn’t too shabby a list.  So Saturday morning saw everyone wake up at the usual time, except Howsie who enjoyed a well-deserved lie in:

That was until the boys wanted him to catch up on all the bedtime stories they had missed out on, while we were away camping.  This started in the caravan and then moved the tree house, and by mid-morning we all headed out to have a wander round the Bribie Island Bicentennial Trails.  This just so happened to be next to the Community Arts Centre, which had a pottery exhibition that Helen was keen to check out.  While it is called Bribie Island, looking at a map it is not your typical island:

It is described as a sand island, being split from the mainland by Pumicestone Passage.  The passage is a shallow and narrow estuary in which the two meter tide creates a series of channels and sand banks.  As such it is only accessible by one bridge, and in the wider and deeper parts of the passage where the bridge is located you may be lucky enough to spot dugongs and turtles.  However, each time we drove over the bridge we would look up at the light poles.  These are fitted with a false lights on one side to provide the pelicans a roosting spot:

Despite not being an island in the sense most would think, it is a lovely place comprising mostly state forest edged with lovely beaches.  And as we found out on this trip, having good access to plenty of amazing climbing spots.  The only downside, from a climbers perspective, being that for quite a long period the climate is not conducive to being out on rock.  This time however we managed to score a great week, and our climbing cup was well and truly filled.  A very big thank you to Mikie and Helen for accommodating us and also Rongy and Sarah for tagging along:

Route summary

Fri 20 Sep – Mount Ninderry
The Octopuses Garden
Lava Tube 18** 17m Krish
Enter the Ninja Sector
Neo Nasi Goreng 18** 25m Krish
Enter the Ninja 19** 26m Krish
Ocean Vista Area
The Big Boss 19* 12m Krish (attempt)

The final stats
Days climbing 7
No. routes 51
No. pitches 64
Total length 1,398m
Average grade 17

It felt like a normal climbing day on Wednesday, when Howsie and I were up in darkness and snuck out before anyone was up.  We had a two hour trip ahead of us, and were aiming to be on the rock at 7am.  The changed approach was a reflection of the temperatures creeping into the high twenties, and wanting to make the most of the cooler mornings.  We drove to the Brooyar State Forest, a place that is described as a quiet getaway camping experience nestled in an area that features sandstone cliffs and scenic forests:

Mikie would follow later, Rupert and Bryn were having a few days at the grandparents so he would drop them off at their house at a more reasonable hour.  Then continue the journey with the caravan in tow, so we would be glamping as opposed to camping.  Hoping for that ‘quiet getaway’ experience, as we had heard it could get a bit rowdy when the trail bike rider groups descended on the area.  They generally only go here on weekends, so we felt we should be safe.  We arrived at seven and for now it was just the two of us:

The climbing is on a bunch of scattered crags, most of which sit on the west and south side of a ridgeline that runs through the park.  They range in height from ten to forty meters in height, so there were some reasonable length routes to bag.  On advice from Mikie we picked Black Stump Buttress for our first area to visit, and being west facing it held shade till midday.  There were only two lines at this area that Howsie and I really wanted to climb, but we started on some easier stuff to get a feel for the rock and style:

I forgot to mention that as Rongy and I rapped down, after our second big multi-pitch route I spied an extender in a bush.  It must have been dropped by a previous party, and was near new.  Today my crag booty collection during the trip extended further when I spotted a stick clip.  This is a device to allow you to clip the first bolt of a sport route from the ground, and I’m using it in the second image.  Just for fun more than necessity, as this is not a piece of equipment that I would ever consider buying:

As you may have guessed by now this is a bolted sports crag.  There are a few trad lines hidden amongst the bolts and some routes are mixed, but for the most part it is all bolts.  This didn’t detract from the very good climbing, and sandstone can have some very interesting and unlikely features adding to the fun of the place.  We’d already snagged three lines, by the time Rongy and Sarah joined us.  Shortly after their arrival I lost my crag booty, when two other climbers came along looking for a stick clip they had misplaced just yesterday:

Mikie joined us by mid-morning, and we worked our way back and forth along the crag jumping on lines that looked fun.  This included a grade 24, just because it is 2024 and Howsie had to attempt at least one.  It was thin, technical, sequencey, and sustained, and no one got it.  There was no point in projecting one hard route, when there were plenty of great routes to climb so we kept moving.  Also the sandstone rock was the coarsest rock we had climbed on so far, and there was a risk our finger tips could be quickly worn down on such a route:

As the morning wore on the sun crept round, and this brought out the skinks.  The timing was good, as Sarah doesn’t climb as much and this left the four of us to pick the lines off while she indulged in herpetology.  Letting us know when she spotted a cool find so we could have a look.  Two images up there are two Southeastern Morethia Skinks (Morethia boulengeri) facing each other of.  This is a common species found over a large area and living in a wide range of habitats.  Population densities can be as much as several hundred in one hectare:

The above is a Dark Barsided Skink (Concinnia martini).  A species with a more confined range of south east Queensland and northern New South Wales.  Sarah also noticed something I missed, a climb that was called Orchid Lane.  So while Rongy and Mikie kept picking off lines Howsie and I had bagged before their arrival, we wandered over to check out the climb.  The rock here was darker, more rounded, and had interesting pockets.  It also had a tree growing half way up the face with roots draping down the rock that seemed to disappear into the rock

It simply had to be climbed, and the rock features were so fun that we did two routes.  We even got Sarah on lead.  Everyone was getting their monthly, if not greater, climbing quota in.  Being relatively short walls with bolts, we were able to rack up a lot of lines.  Eventually however our stomachs were telling us we should get some lunch, but only after one last climb. A very fun route called Hand in the Honeypot.  An apt name as we were feeling pretty lucky being out climbing, just as Pooh Bear would be to have his hand in that honey pot:

The area certainly was a great playground, and other than the two people who had come back to find their stick clip we didn’t see anyone else climbing in our two days here.  We had done pretty well to keep going but it was getting on now, being close to two.  And as the route tally at the end of the post shows we hadn’t dilly-dallied about.  I do not recall a climb that we didn’t enjoy, and each one seemed to have something a little different about it.  Just before we left this Yellow Flesh Fly (Sarcophaga bidentate) braved landing on my foot:

There were of course flies about, but this was the only Yellow Flesh Fly I spotted.  These produce live young, being viviparous, birthing their maggots directly on a food source.  This may comprise rotting vegetation, carrion, and/or decomposing organic matter, but not a live foot such as mine.  Amongst the other flies about were the dreaded March Flies of the Tabanidae family.  These use their proboscis to pierce through the skin and suck out blood, which the females require to produce eggs.  Fortunately they were not out in great numbers:

Our lunch was much more pleasant.  The kettle went on and wraps were prepared, while the gear was sorted on the grass.  We had every intention of getting back out, but first needed to build up our energy reserves.  Mikie had found a great spot with a shady tree to provide additional shelter from the sun.  Here we were content to sit and relax, waiting for the heat of the day to pass us by.  Supping on several more cups of tea while contemplating where to head next and browsing the guidebook, as we didn’t really have pre-set a game plan:

We chose Pure Point.  There was a classic line that Rongy was keen to see and maybe try, and there was also a classic route for Sarah to lead in a very unlikely position.  This one started from a hanging belay approx. ten meters above the ground and followed a very cool arête.  This meant we needed to take the rap line in to access the route.  Carrying the extra rope in was no problem.  All the areas seemed to be right next to the parking areas.  The longest walk-in was a few minutes, making it a very accessible place to climb:

Rongy decided against his line, but Sarah went for hers and I have to say did very well.  After that lead, she was however happy to go back to looking about finding a few Elegant Rainbow Skinks (Carlia decora), as above.  This species has an even narrower range than the previous ones mentioned, being along the eastern side of Queensland but only as far north as Cairns.  I had my eye on two lines just because of their breakfast orientated names, struggling to decide which one to try first Mikie suggested I go for the breakfast I was more likely to enjoy:

It was a good way to stop me procrastinating, and both lines were great fun.  I also managed to find a couple of Dubious Dtella (Gehyra dubia) in the final crack on the second route.  It was a good job Sarah was about to identify our reptile finds, as this one is a crafty fella.  It can change in appearance both to avoid predators but also to deceive its prey.  They can change from a darker to lighter colour, and are also able to lose the spots that are normally along their back.  While we got images of our reptilian finds, very few images were taken of the climbs:

We used all the daylight available and then went back to the camp.  While the days were warming up the nights were a little cooler.  Not so cold as to really need a fire, but it was very cosy and did help to keep the mosquitoes at bay.  I was really expecting Sarah and Rongy to go for a walk to look for snakes, but it didn’t happen.  She did however spot the above False Garden Mantid (Pseudomantis albofimbriata).  Being one of the smaller species of Praying Mantids species found in Australia, only growing to just over a couple of inches in length:

After our early start had worked so well yesterday, we agreed on the same time again.  Heading to an area Howsie had been too, but Mikie had not.  Eagles Nest has the longest routes in the park, and I was keen to bag as many of them as possible.  But before we got to them we jumped on a couple of shorter and quality warm up routes.  We didn’t bother pulling the rope on every climb to allow everyone to lead every line, instead focusing on getting the routes in.  At the top of the first one Howsie spotted something he thought I may like:

And he was right.  Another lithophyte orchid, this one being the Tongue Orchid (Dockrillia linguiformis).  This species is found in New South Wales and Queensland and is also known to be an epiphyte orchid and can be found growing on both rocks and trees.  The Latin words lingua and forma meaning tongue and shape, referring to the leaves as opposed to the flower.  And now that we had spotted this one, we spied quite a few more of them scattered round this particular rock outcrop.  This was the last species we managed to find in flower:

The pace of the morning was not so much fast, but it was unrelenting.  I did wonder if Howsie would survive each time I encouraged him to jump on the next, and then next line.  We climbed quite a few of the forty meter plus lines, and quite a few of them had relatively steep sections.  It is hard to pick the standouts and going through the online route database, The Crag, just about every route we did had a star or two.  Interestingly the climbs given three stars in the physical guidebook had been knocked down to two stars, which did surprise me:

But before I attempt to detail the doozy routes, I have to introduce the Red Spider Ant (Leptomyrmex rufipes).  Of all the Leptomyrmex species this one has the widest range, from the base of the Cape York Peninsula to the southern border of Queensland.  What caught our attention about this particular ant was the away the abdomen would be pointed upwards when we got to close.  They were also fast moving, their speed aided by the long legs, and never seemed to sit still.  It took a lot of images to get one that was clear enough to include:

We also didn’t really sit still, resulting in me taking even less climbing images than I had yesterday.  Of the climbs I really liked Miss Kandy Kane, which followed a very cool flake line and was trickier than I expected.  The other two that really struck me was Looking for the Sun, for which we had to pull out the trad rack.  It did have a couple of bolts, only one of which seemed essential.  The climbing was however superlative and engaging all the way up, and I do not understand why the general consensus on The Crag to is knock a star of it:

The other one very worthy of a mention, in my opinion, is Free Range Heggs.  I encouraged Howsie to jump on this one towards the end of the morning.  He was looking weary and unsure, and kept looking up at the steep and exposed pathway.  I am so please he went for it, and he was super chuffed to have bagged the lead.  But you should not always trust what other people think, if we had we may not have come to this area at all.  The people we had met yesterday said they didn’t rate the climbs at Eagles Nest, we however did:

It was back to the camp for lunch, at a slightly earlier time than yesterday.  More wraps and cups of tea were needed.  While it was a bit hotter today, we were lucky to have a bit of high cloud about to take the bite out of the direct sun.  This did however bring more moisture in, resulting in the humidity also creeping upwards.  We were really unsure of where to go for the afternoon session, and ended up picking a place on the basis that we could probably clean it up plus it had a fun mini roof climb to keep us honest:

I also liked the name of Hammerhead Rock, and it was a good choice.  Again just a minute or two walk in, and then Mikie and I went for the glory route straight of the bat.  The sun was back out and stung, so we figured we were better off getting the harder route under our belt first.  After our lunch break the body was feeling a little lethargic and stiff, although with each climb we did we limbered up and got into a routine.  Unlike the morning on the longer routes, this time we did pull the rope every time so we both led every climb:

Yesterday we were still climbing as the sun was setting, and it seemed that once that had happened darkness fell quite quickly afterwards.  Today we timed things a bit better, achieving what we came for in daylight.  Mikie and I finished on the lowest graded route, and both felt the top was poorly bolted.  Providing the potential for a nasty fall when clipping the anchors.  Maybe our bodies were just getting tired, making it feel that way but we were both grateful when the anchors were clipped.  Howsie and Rongy were not too far behind us:

And once all was done we managed to drive to a lookout in time to watch the sun go down, after a second big day.  As the sky changed colour, Sulphur-Crested Cockatoos (Cacatua galerita) noisily flew about perching on the tree tops in the valley.  Howsie and I had racked up a worthy seventeen routes on each day, and we were both a bit surprised we had managed to keep going.  It was not over just yet, but before the climbing continued we had another hearty meal next to the fire and slept well in what was a very peaceful campsite:

Route summary

Wed 18 Sep – Brooyar State Forest
Black Stump Buttress
Snake Charmer 16* 18m Krish
Annabelistic 18** 18m Howsie
Footprints on the other Side 19** 18m Krish
The Enticer 17** 15m Howsie
Dreamcatcher 20** 15m Krish
Shake and Bake 24** 14m Krish (attempt)
French Bandit 15* 12m Krish
My Brothers Keeper 15* 12m Howsie
Right of Passage 21** 15m Krish
Via the Rainbow 18* 12m Howsie
Sun Chaser 16** 12m Krish
Orchid Lane 15* 14m Krish
Found the Salt 14* 13m Sarah
Hand in the Honeypot 21** 18m Rongy
Point Pure
The Cornflake Climb 18** 25m Krish
Coco Pops 15** 25m Krish
The Great Barrier Reef 13** 18m Howsie

Thu 19 Sep – Brooyar State Forest
Eagles Nest
Miss Manners 15* 20m Howsie
Miss Kandy Kane 15* 20m Krish
Digit Crucifixion 18 10m Mike
Up a Rat in a Drain Pipe 18** 20m Krish
Send Me An Angel 17** 40m Howsie
The Pioneer 16** 40m Krish
It’s a Long Way to Tip Fairy 16** 45m Howsie
Little Ray of Sunshine 17* 45m Krish
Free Range Heggs 17** 20m Howsie
Looking for the Sun 19** 40m Krish
Hammerhead Rock
Catch of the Day 20** 10m Krish
Grey Nurse 15* 10m Krish
Becalm 16* 13m Krish
Hook Line and Sinker 18 10m Krish
Chironex 18 8m Krish
Not on Porpoise 18 8m Krish
Irukandji 15 7m Krish

The Glass House Mountains alone contain 24 regional ecosystems.  And being spring I was hoping there may have been a heap of flowers.  However, as we walked to each crag, often through a different vegetation complex, we really didn’t see too much.  My attention was of course aimed at orchids, but I should have done a bit more research in that department before heading out.  There are certainly some species of orchids that are similar to what we find in the South West of Western Australia, many are however very different:

The above is a Noble Rock Orchid (Dendrobium nobile), this species which Mikie and Helen have in their garden is an introduced ornamental species.  But does introduce the term epiphyte and lithophyte, which quite a few of the native orchids of South East Queensland are.  These terms mean a plant that grows on the surface of another plant and that grows in or on rocks, respectively.  Some of the native orchid plant masses are also very different, often with a mass of exposed roots and/or leaves that can be quite fleshy in nature:

While I didn’t see many, I was lucky to find three native species.  I unknowingly took an image of one on my first day out, and have included an image of it in the first post.  It will crack another mention later in this post.  Day three and it was time for a long route.  Mikie had suggested he may only join us for one day on the big lines.  Allowing him to spend some time with Helen and the kids.  Sarah was also absent, as she is not overly keen on big multi-pitch routes.  This meant Rongy had driven up alone last night to join us for an earlier start:

The destination for the three of us so happened to be the third tallest peak in the Glass House Mountains.  Mount Tibrogargan at 364m.  Despite being the third tallest, it seemed to stand out the most.  An impressive peak with steep sides falling away on every side.  This illusion of grandeur didn’t just make an impression on me, and culturally Tibrogargan was said to be the father of all the other peaks in the Glass House Mountains.  The mother being the tallest peak called Mount Beerwah:

The sides are so steep that in 1799 when Captain Matthew Flinders was exploring the area, he wrote in his journal that ‘the steepness of the cliffs, utterly forbad all idea of ascending to the top’.  This was despite having already ascended Mount Beerwah.  These steep sides are however a draw card for climbers, and as we walked in I had a giggle when I saw the sign two images up telling non-climbers to ‘turn back now’.  On the face of it, it seemed that Queensland had a more outward facing regard of climbing than in Western Australia:

The little pink flowers two images up deserve a mention, I’ve never seen anything like them.  As the petals start to open they reveal what looks like a bud of yellow cotton wool.  This must fall out or get absorbed when it fully opens, as the flowers then displayed the usual arrangement of a stigma and anthers.  I asked a few local people about them but no one could tell me anything about them, and my research has also failed to pin them down.  Fortunately Rongy, Howsie, and were able to pin down the route we would aim for, but it did take time:

The routes we were looking at were located on the impressive +200m Carborundum Wall.  Descriptions of many lines were plastered with warnings that only climbers with good traditional skills and route finding experience should undertake them.  Added to that it was a rock we were not familiar with, being different to what we had climbed on in the last two days.  Then climbing with three of us would slow things down.  The route that drew our attention, was also a little daunting due to the grades but if all else failed we could rap off:

As such we went for it, 245m comprising six pitches with five of them having a grade of 18 (E1 5a/b) or more.  Howsie was once more first up, and if the crux on that pitch was anything to go by it promised to be a big day.  It may well have been that it was the first pitch of the day.  Also it took a while to get used to the sloping holds, which nearly always seemed to be angled the wrong way.  Making for nervous moves when the gear was spaced, but after the first two pitches there seemed to be a generous offering of bolts making the climbing less intimidating:

The bolts also meant that finding the route really wasn’t all that hard.  The second pitch was the trickiest but with the description given it didn’t take too long to unlock.  I think it took longer for me to get my big wall leading head on, than it did to find the way.  We lapped up pitch after pitch, and Rongy was the one brave enough to take on the one graded the hardest.  And as I have said many a time, grading is a little subjective.  Not taking anything away from the quality of the climbing and the route, we felt it was somewhat over graded:

We were in no rush by any means and sat on a couple of the belay ledges to take in the vista sprawled below us.  Each pitch taking about an hour for all three of us to ascend, and at the top of pitch six we were still a good 50m short of the summit.  We had an option to rap back down the line.  Warnings online of rusty anchors at the top of the last pitch might put some off, but upon inspection they looked in good enough condition.  We all agreed however that it would be worth the scramble required to enable us to stand on top of Mount Tibrogargan:

The scramble started up clean rock, which is where I came across the above Pink Rock Orchid (Dendrobium kingianum).  This is the flower I took an image of on the first day, shown in the fifth image of the first post.  It is endemic to eastern Australia and one of the lithophyte orchids.  The scramble then entered thick vegetation and was horrendous, with the occasional loose rock underfoot.  We persisted, topping out only to find that there is no clear view from the peak.  Still it was worth it, to have a clear area to sit and finish off our food:

After a well-deserved chill, we started the hike back down the tourist track.  And it was a track like no other I have walked down, and was not something I would call your average person walk track.  It dropped away steeply, and would be treacherous when wet.  The thin veneer of soil having been eroded and washed away due to foot traffic.  This exposed a light coloured smooth rock, creating a scar on the peak that can be seen from many miles away.  Requiring full on scrambling in sections.  Whilst a lot of fun for us, it could be pretty daunting for others:

I can see why Flinders and his crew decided not to attempt this peak.  After the very long scramble we came across a few people walking up who said they would only go as far as the scramble started.  It did however make for a great day out for us, and the walk/scramble of the peak was just as entertaining, in its own way, to the climb up the impressive face.  And to boot as we wandered round the base, back to the carpark, I spotted one and then quite a few more White Fingers Orchids (Caladenia catenata):

This dainty orchid is endemic to New South Wales, Queensland and Victoria.  Reminding me of the Leafless Orchid (Praecoxanthus aphyllus) that is endemic to Western Australia, which I have only just found this year.  But unlike our local orchid with no leaf, the similar eastern orchid has a single hairy leaf.  It was a great way to wrap up an epic day out, which was celebrated with a BBQ that was well underway when we got back to the house.  Courtesy of Mikie and Helen, which was very much appreciated and went down very well:

Having got a big route under our belt, and of the grade that it was, heading out on Tuesday back to the same place didn’t feel quite as daunting.  This time Mikey joined us and we intended to climb as two parties.  Both on the North East Buttress on routes that were just shy of 200m.  We had originally picked two lines hoping that each party could climb both routes.  However, we needed to get back at a reasonable time to be able to prepare for the next couple of days, as we intended stay away overnight.  So while possible, it wasn’t likely:

As we walked in there was a slight change of who climbed with who, and Mikey and Howsie climbed together.  This left Rongy and I to tackle our chosen line, which we had also changed.  Our rationale being that if we were not going to have time to fit both lines in we should pick a climb of similar grade.  While the face wasn’t quite as sheer as yesterday, most of the eight pitches were steep enough.  Bolts showed the path, so it was hard to go wrong.  Rongy and I climb pretty efficiently, and even faster when not needing to fiddle with gear placements:

The climbing was really good, and that bit more comfortable now that we were accustomed to the smooth slopey holds on offer.  We were not rushing but managed to climb the route and rap back down in a three hours.  This would have allowed us plenty of time to wander round and climb the route that Mikey and Howsie were still on.  It had however been pretty warm, the sky was near clear and this buttress had no shade.  This made Rongy admit to being a little weary, once we had rapped back to the base and not show signs of being keen to press on:

Not too weary to miss this St Andrew’s Cross Spider (Argiope keyserlingi), a common species that is easily identified by the markings and colouration.  Cross spiders are so named due to the cross that is woven into the web.  The spider will often then sit on the cross with their legs paired together in line with each arm of the cross.  The cross is thought to play many roles including making the web stronger, providing camouflage of the spider, reflecting more light to attract prey, and also to deter predators due to the extra mass of silk to deal with:

Just below were we had climbed is an area called Candy Mountain.  Mostly lower than the tree line, it had very welcome shade.  I popped round the corner to check if I could see where the others were, and timed it perfectly to see Howsie just before he went out of sight.  It’ll be hard to see in the image below, but he is there right on the skyline.  It is a false summit and not the top, so they were a way off.  We sat in the shade for a while munching on our food and rehydrating, and once the energy levels were up the short wall beckoned:

Rongy had climbed here with Sarah, but there were still a few lines that he hadn’t picked off.  So we started on them and worked our way rightwards.  The short 12m wall provided some entertaining lines.  It felt that just because it was a short wall, the grading allocated was more on par with what it should be.  Unlike the grades allocated to the pitches on the multi-pitches we had done today and yesterday.  Maybe it is an additional layer of precaution applied to make sure people don’t bite of more than they could chew, but it did seem strange:

During our session on the little wall we had a visitor, a good four foot long Lace Monitor (Varanus varius).  It is the second largest monitor found in Australia, being pipped at the post by half a meter, by the Perentie (Varanus giganteus).  They are of the same genus, and Lisa and I have seen heaps of Perentie during our time in the Red Centre.  The Lace Monitor can grow to six foot so this one was a good size.  Wandering about as we picked off two lines each.  On the last one, and for the first time, I felt my arms ache just as Howsie and Mikie arrived:

Finishing the line off, we packed up.  They, as we did, had a thoroughly enjoyable time on the big wall and were buzzing.  It was however now time to make a move.  Rongy was heading back to Brisbane, with plans for he and Sarah to meet us at the next crag tomorrow.  While we needed to get back to get things ready for a couple of nights of camping out.  On the walk out this Australian Brushturkeys (Alectura lathami) was too busy scratching about to notice us.  While they are pretty common I do like them, and had to include an image:

Route summary

Mon 16 Sep – Mount Tibrogargan
Carborundum Wall
Airtime Over Pumicestone 21** 245m Howsie/Krish/Rongy (alt)

Tue 17 Sep – Mount Tibrogargan
North East Buttress
Ross Millar Route 19** 180m Rongy/Krish (alt)
Candy Mountain
The Real Rainbow Unicorn 16* 12m Krish
Glove Slap 15* 12m Rongy
One Eyed Wanderer 18* 12m Krish
Old Elvis 17* 12m Rongy

{North East Buttress
Sunburnt Buttress 19** 185m Howsie/Mike (alt)}

The last time I had a week long climbing trip was to Victoria to visit and climb with Dan in the Grampians.  Originally planned for Easter 2020, it was delayed by two years due to the pandemic.  Early last year, Dan and I started to chat about another catch-up.  An adventurous one that would see us sail into the Bass Straight between Australia and Tasmania, and climb on a remote place called Deal Island.  A week before I was to fly out he dislocated his shoulder and the trip had to be canned.  The big question left hanging was what to do with the flights:

One option I had floated with Howsie was to go to Victoria and spend a week at Arapiles.  In some ways it is a bit like Stanage in England.  Both are a great place to learn trad climbing, boast over 2,000 routes, and are very accessible.  Stanage however only has routes up to 20m high, whereas Arapiles has lines towering up to 140m.  Long trad multi-pitch routes are what I love. The timing seemed perfect for spring this year, marking my thirtieth anniversary of the one and only very short visit I have had there.  But the plans changed:

Howsie’s brother, Mikie, caught wind of our plans and hinted we might want to head to Queensland.  Rumour of our possible visit got out and Rongy, who happened to be over that way, was also keen to get in on the action.  So it was that close to a year and a half after Dan and my plans were forming, Howsie and I flew to Brisbane.  I do hope my next climbing trip is not quite as convoluted and delayed in the planning.  It felt like this trip was far off for a long time, and when it eventually arrived it was a very much needed circuit breaker from work:

Mikie, along with his wife Helen and three young kids Rupert, Bryn, and Maggie, live on Bribie Island.  A short car trip north from Brisbane airport, which we drove after our red-eye flight that saw us get a maximum of three hours sleep.  I’ll provide more detail about Bribie Island later on, but fair to say the first impression was a quiet and pretty seaside town.  A popular getaway destination, and being the Queensland school holidays it was busy but never too crazy.  Better still the island is located on the doorstep of the Glass House Mountains:

The Glass House Mountains had on offer big two to three hundred meter routes.  But before we went climbing, the morning was spent catching up with Mikie and Helen, and Howsie of course had uncle duties to perform.  With three young kids, putting us two up for a week was no small undertaking.  I was given the luxury of a granny flat, and Howsie took the caravan giving everyone a bit of space.  And there has to be a massive shout out to Helen, who kept the kids entertained while we kept Mikie entertained with our trips out:

We were however also conscious of not making home life too busy and unrelenting for Helen.  Our start times were generally fairly relaxed, and we didn’t climb till light faded.  Aiming to get back to the house by approximately three most days, so we could give a hand with the kids.  Due to our close proximity to the crags and the relatively short walk ins, with nothing more than half an hour, there was plenty of time to climb.  Plus if we were to keep going for eight days straight, we needed to pace ourselves to avoid getting burnt out:

The risk of getting burnt out was not only from the climbing but also the climate.  We have had a bit of an unusual end to winter and start to spring in Australia.  The southern parts have been hit by windy, wet, and cold conditions, while the northern parts have been hit by a heat wave.  Temperatures reaching ten to fifteen degrees above the expected averages.  Where Mikie lives was no different and just a week before we got here, the temperatures were in the thirties.  Being Queensland you can add the humidity to that, so it gets hot and sweaty:

I don’t like climbing in the sun, and certainly don’t perform well in heat and even worse in high humidity.  It was a risk, and coming here in spring elevated that risk.  In fact the majority of local climbers consider our visit here to be outside of the climbing season.  Autumn and winter being regarded as when the weather is great for this type of activity, and as spring works its way in the temperature and humidity start to put people off.  Then comes the wet season, when only the real diehards might be seen out on rock:

Indeed Mikie had suggested we leave our warm clothes at home, but I came a little more prepared than that just in case.  In part because, just in time, there was a promising looking forecast for while we were to be here.  Great temperatures that steadily increased as the week progressed.  And with the great outdoors beckoning, and after we had settled in and caught up, it was time to hit some rock.  Our first destination was Mount Ngungun, which has several short crags on it with mostly single pitch climbs:

Mount Ngungun is the smallest peak in the Glass House Mountains, at only 235m high.  There are thirteen peaks that rise out of the otherwise flat landscape.  Remnants of volcanic plugs that have resisted the erosion of time.  A process that has lowered the landscape around them, into what we see today.  These plugs were formed 26 to 27 million years ago, but the Glass House Mountains were only named as such in 1770, by Lieutenant James Cook.  This was because the peaks reminded him of the glass furnaces in Yorkshire, back in England:

The area is of course steeped with a much older cultural history, having deep spiritual importance for the Jinibara, Gubbi Gubbi and Kabi Kabi Traditional Owners.  And in more recent decades joint agreements have been put in place to ensure appropriate management of the area.  This has generally, so far, not prevented climbing.  Access and activities are however, and understandably, restricted on some peaks.  But not Mount Ngungun, and we aimed for the Upper Cliff, offering 40 plus meter climbs on the hexagonal basalt columns:

In planning where to climb, we were mindful that Howsie has been here before and of course Mikie has climbed all over.  We endeavoured to pick areas and routes that Howsie hadn’t been too, but also tried to find crags that were new to Mikie.  The Upper Cliffs were the perfect start and we picked three great, steep, sustained, and continually interesting traditional lines.  The cracks between and on the basalt columns looked great, but were deceptive in nature.  Flared and often blind, making gear placements a thoughtful process:

It was also an introduction to an unfamiliar style of climbing for Howsie and myself, adding to the mind game that climbing can play.  Mikie while a local, has not been out too much over the last year or so.  Family life having taken over.  So while he was bouldering fit from his indoor wall, leading fitness is quite different.  The three lines were all listed as classics, three stars hanging off their names in the guidebook.  Stars can be subjective, but in this case they were spot on, totally absorbing and engaging routes in a great position:

All three of them had us on edge the whole way up, and I could write stacks about each line but will restraint myself.  What a way to start the trip.  And despite the advice not to pack warm stuff, which was fine while climbing, all three of us got cold while sitting at the base or at the top.  But I’d rather be cold than hot, so that is certainly not a complaint.  In the evening Howsie put another one of his talents to the test, when reading the bedtime stories.  Keeping the boys interested with an impressive array of voices, which became a hit for the week:

Being amongst friends, once the kids had gone to bed, Mikie and Helen didn’t bat an eyelid when I would sloped off to the granny flat at a reasonably early hour.  Even before Rongy and Sarah had arrived, in their campervan.  After a chat with Lisa who was two hours behind me in Western Australia, that first night in a bed was bliss.  It was wonderful to catch up on some sleep.  I still however awoke early, at 4 most days.  And was grateful to have a small kitchenette at my disposal to have a brew or three before venturing into the house:

Rongy and Sarah are traveling about, hence the campervan.  They had a very stop-start beginning to their travels, with many a false starts for various reasons.  Since then they have however enjoyed a relative free lifestyle on the road in their big yellow van.  They have been in Brisbane for a few months now, working before they head back on the road.  Managing to take a week off work while Howsie and I were over.  Day two arrived and the five of us aimed for a crag called Serpent.  This place was in the Blackall Range, which was a bit further away:

It is a small but steep crag, that had one of the longest walk ins of the trip.  At only half an hour, but it was one of the steeper approaches.  Or was it that today it felt warmer and the air was a little heavier with moisture.  The drawcard for this place was a climb called Minotaur, one that Howsie had placed on his tick list.  It included a great geological feature, that simply had to played on.  We were all keen to jump on it.  However before we hit it, we were kept entertained with an offering of less steep climbs at the edges of the crag:

The cooling time for the lava that formed the basalt at this crag was different to that of Ngungun, changing the mineral sizes and rock texture.  Forming a rock mass as opposed to columns, needing a changed approach to the climbing techniques.  Another aspects that we aimed to keep mixing up on the trip.  You’ll have noticed a variety of images so far, that has included some flowers, trees, shrubs, and fauna.  Unlike my usual approach, I haven’t attempted to identify my finds.  There are simply too many, and I would spend days if I tried:

I will however get into more detail for some of them as I go along.  And I’ll start with the stick insects in three of the above images.  I believe that the small green and big brown specimens may be a very young nymph and adult male Titan Stick Insect (Acrophylla titan).  It is a bit of a guess as I didn’t look for the finer details that are required for a true identification, and is based on the short antenna and spines on the back of the thorax.  We only saw them on one climb, and didn’t see any more during the entire trip.  But there was plenty more to see:

Minotaur, above, was as good as we had hoped.  A steep line snaking it’s way between a huge flake that looked to be defying gravity.  After caterpillaring up this you poke out of a window, onto the steep juggy headwall.  It was the last route of the day, being our shortest day of climbing as a group.  The travel time and walk in having chewed into our ability to stay any longer.  That said the remaining routes were much harder and it was heating up, so I was happy to call it quits.  Ending on a high note of another well-deserved three star classic climb:

It was so good that it took a while for everyone to lead or second the very cool two pitch routes.  And while that happened the rest of us were kept entertained with a myriad of interesting insects and arachnids that were mulling about below.  The above insect is a nymph planthopper, probably of the Eurybrachys genus.  This one may well have lost one of its false antenna, which are located at the back of the body.  This is an example of mimicry to make it look like a different and more aggressive creature, to deter predators:

They also walk backwards to make the back look like the head, and then when the situation requires they can hop away quite some distance.  Sarah also spied this tiny arachnid, which I have, not surprisingly, had absolutely no luck in identifying.  It is likely to be a juvenile, being a mere millimetre or two in size.  What really intrigued us was the cluster of soil and leaf detritus attached to its back.  Again I can only assume this may have been a camouflage technique, but I can only find out about a spider in Mexico that is known to use this method of concealment:

Sarah also found some crag booty, a misplaced chalk bag with koala print.  She wasn’t overly interested in keeping it, so I nabbed that.  My two outdoor chalk bags are getting a little ratty and worn out, and this one will serve as a good replacement.  Arriving back at the cars Rongy and Sarah drove to Brisbane, where they are house sitting, while Mikie, Howsie and I went back to Bribie Island.  All up our first two days in Queensland had been great.  Two quite different crags, lots of new flora and fauna to spot, and catching up with friends:

Route summary

Sat 14 Sep – Mount Ngungun
Upper Cliffs
Icehouse 16*** 45m Howsie
Visions of a Transmitter 18*** 45m Krish
Ensorcelled 17*** 45m Mike

Sun 15 Sep – Serpent
Serpent Wall
Off With the Pixies 13* 18m Krish
Berserker 17* 15m Krish
Arcane Secrets 18* 12m Krish
Minotaur 17*** 35m Mike/Krish (alt)