Being January it is the summer school holiday and Lisa is enjoying the time off.  I also tend to ease into the new year with four day weeks, allowing my January to be a bit more relaxed.  It has become a bit of a tradition, and the three day weekends are very welcome.  It’s a shame I can’t make it a long term thing but for now I’m loving it, and this weekend it was even more welcome.  Despite not working I still got up at silly o’clock on Friday to meet Howsie at Welly Dam for our weekly climb; Rongy bailed this week in favour of additional and much needed sleep:

Then on Saturday it was the same silly o’clock start, which was made more palatable by having had a chilled Friday at home.  It was another inland trip.  We do not have too many inland climbing spots close enough to allow for a day trip.  This means there are no images of ocean, and on that note not even a glimmer of hope of any posts about what lies beneath the ocean.  The water is still grey and milky, not being given the chance to clear up with the winds churning the water up each afternoon.  I hope that changes in the weeks to come, as I have been missing my snorkels:

There are only two inland crags that make for a sensible day trip, I have been known to drive a six hour round trip for a day out at Mount Frankland.  But fortunately Welly Dam is just shy of an hour away and today’s location of Boomer Crag, which is just outside of Pinjarra, is only an hour and three quarters.  Making it a good halfway’ish spot to meet Mario, who lives in Perth.  This crag is on private land and you are encouraged to call the owner to let them know of your intentions; he has never been known to said no:

This time he warned Mario that dugites and tiger snakes were about, but then we live in the south west and at this time of year we know that.  Not that we get to see them, we are way too heavy footed for any snakes to hang about.  It is a very rare, and personally I think lucky, sight to see one.  I do however seem to have a bit of luck with seeing carpet pythons at both Wilyabrup and Bobs Hollow.  We eased into things with Sated and Calm, where Mario did a bit of gardening pulling out the dead stump of a small tree in the initial crack (two images back):

In 2014 on my first trip here with Wiggins the small tree had a little bit of greenery, but it wasn’t looking too good (https://sandbagged.blog/2014/07/13/another-day-out/).  Then on my second time here with Craig, two years later, it was dead.  So I am surprised that it has stayed in place as long as it has (https://sandbagged.blog/2016/10/23/heading-inland/).  This is the best of the easy climbs here, and everyone jumps on it.  Next up I plumped for Suspended Intelligence, which Mario was happy for me to lead.  It gets an R rating due to sparse gear, but personally I don’t find the protection all that bad:

The cracks on this crag can hold water for a long time, even long after the seasons have changed.  On previous trips we have been serenaded by the sound of frogs singing, unseen as they remain hidden deep in the damp crevices.  Not today, everything was bone dry and the air was instead filled with the sound of crickets chirping.  They don’t normally sit still when we come crashing about, but the one above was content to stay while Mario led Mr Hitachi.  It remained in the same place until after we had finished on the route:

The routes we climbed followed a familiar trend of previous visits here, knocking off the same lines.  There aren’t too many lines here, with no option for new routes unless you want to place bolts and project steep intimidating finger ripping faces.  Seeing it was my lead, we moved round to the main face where thing steepen up.  The first three climbs were slabby, and due to the easier angle our arms hadn’t needed to work very hard.  But both of us felt them on the crag classic of Boomer Crack, a very fine sustained crack that almost reaches from the base to the top of the crag:

On a previous trip I sent Eric up this fine climb, shown below, and he came across a Huntsman spider.  As he screeching out in surprise and terror, I braced to catch him as he fell.  But he held on and then told me of his phobia, before impressively managing to supress his fear and get up the route (https://sandbagged.blog/2018/12/17/running-low-on-fuel/).  There was no spider this time, and with arms definitely warmed up now we hit a route that I did with Eric.  One I managed to mashed my fingers on.  Fuel for the Urban Warrior is hard, simple as that.  Nether Mario nor I got it clean today, it is really hard to read the moves and more so at the crux where the only excuse for hand holds are really not that good:

Apologies for the blurry image below, it was taken from a video I took of Mario’s ascent.  A video he may prefer I don’t share, and we will wait till he is more climbing fit and can get up it with a bit more elegance.  For those that read every post, you will recall Mario is supposed to be easing back into recovery.  This route is far from easing back in, and the next line he suggested we play on even less so.  Someone has since my first trip here put some new lines up and they are, as I explained above, mostly bolted and on steep intimidating finger ripping faces.  The one Mario was keen to play on was Nuggetz Kucklez, an unrelenting powerful climb:

Small, sharp and generously spaced, for those of my stature, holds make for both dynamic moves and painful fingertip holds.  Perfect for my tips that were already wearing thin after Welly Dam yesterday and this morning’s routes.  We both worked the climb, Mario more successfully than I.  With each attempt on every hold, and there were many, my fingers screamed in pain and my strength ebbed away.  I was done and pleased to see the sun creep round, which brought with it the heat forecast for the day.  The only sensible thing to do was to wrap up the session, which despite the descriptions above had been a lot of fun:

When Lisa and I came to Australia we spent a lot of time going out bush camping, walking and climbing.  Not just in Central Australia, where we lived for close to five years, but also travelling to Queensland, South Australia and Victoria.  Something that struck us was that everywhere we went, no matter how remote if you looked hard enough eventually you’d find broken glass.  Usually a beer bottle, and it became a personal joke of ours that we knew we were in Australia whenever we came across broken glass:

Since that time we still find broken glass, more than we would like, but it seems that it isn’t as frequent as we experienced back then.  Today however it was sad to see fragments of a beer bottle strewn across the base of Hands Up Wall, at Moses Rocks.  The last thing we wanted was to risk our ropes or slings coming into contact with the sharp shards, or step on any glass as we wandered barefoot at the base between climbs.  So the first thing Rongy, Josh and I did was to clear up as many of the fragments as we could find:

Then, and only then did we get ready to climb.  As can be seen above Josh was put in charge of belaying.  Being only the second trip out where he has belayed someone on lead, we provided him with words of wisdom and useful hints.  While Rongy and I are very familiar with the climbs here, you still have to have total trust and have faith in your belayer.  Should we slip and fall, Josh and only Josh would be what prevents us taking a ground fall.  That is assuming we have put in good protection:

Neither of us tested Josh’s ability to respond appropriately to a fall, but maybe next time we head out we should mock a fall so he can experience what happens and how it feels.  Today Rongy and I were not pushing ourselves too much and just enjoying the rock.  Soaking up the abundant rounded holds and friction.  There are not many positive holds here so it was a new experience for Josh.  It took a little getting used to and as we hit climb after climb we imparted nuggets of information, all aimed at helping him to adjust to the art of slab climbing:

Today had a very wintery feel to it, the swell was up and the waves continuously crashed in, a fresh southerly wind with gusts up to 35km/hr whipped along the crag never relenting, and on and off the sun was hidden behind a blanket of clouds.  Each time we dropped the rope the wind blew is sideways rather than down.  Rongy and I remanded rugged up all morning, and Josh soon relaced his shorts with jeans to keep warm.  It wasn’t that we were moving slowly, in fact we kept a good pace and Josh was chewing up the first few lines eagerly.  So we bumped up the grade a notch or two:

Josh was given a short sharp lesson in slab climbing, trusting your feet on nothing but friction and knowing that small rounded fingertip holds were enough to keep your balance.  Being his first experience of the need to climb delicately and not being able to yard up on positive jugs, he took a few falls.  But each time he got back on and worked out a better way to position and tension his body, angle his feet and open up his body to avoid moving his centre of gravity too far from the wall.  The harder grades came with steeper territory and the next two lines provided him with a real challenge:

On the second of the steeper routes, he visibly began to tire with the tell-tale signs of technique going out the window.  For most climbing styles you can still manage to keep going, but with slab climbing it results in lot of time hanging on the rope.  It’s the one style where total focus and a relaxed mind is critical, because while you may have three or even four points of contact they are never overly positive.  Loose one and your body tension completely changes and the remaining points of contact lose their effectiveness:

After five routes Josh was looking less and less coordinated on rock, so it was time to give him a quick breather.  Like I said he was keeping pace, which with Rongy and I who both climb at a reasonable rate that means there was little rest time.  In fact we managed to get eight lines in the four hours we had at the crag, so we were moving.  While Josh took a rest Rongy jumped on a trickier line, which he had mentioned he had his eye on.  After watching Rongy climb, Josh could tell it was probably a tad too much for him to even attempt, so was more than happy to sit that one out:

We eased the pace after that, moving onto the walls that are off vertical.  A welcome change for Josh who jumped back on rock.  That was until the last line, the classic of the crag, a crack that requires a bit my grunt work.  After managing the bottom section with good style he again threw technique out the window.  Fully extending his body, making it hard to be able to see hand or foot holds let alone move your hands of feet, his feet couldn’t seem to find anything to stick too and his forearms were too pumped to hold onto even the bigger holds:

He battled his way up slumping over the top, and then finding a comfy spot to lie down.  Allowing his body to recover and feel somewhat normal again.  Despite being shattered, he was still smiling and had thoroughly enjoyed the morning and it has to be said had done really well.  Rongy and I too had a great time, lapping up line after line and just for fun making sure the pink tricam got used on every route.  The temperature hadn’t even hit 20 degrees.  For us it was a welcome change from the heat, but from the absence of anyone else on the beach as we walked out at about 11:30 I guess not everyone was happy about it:

It seems to be becoming a bit of a broken record when I say I headed out with Mario during his road to recovery.  With a succession of injuries having plagued him during 2021, his New Year wish should be pretty obvious.  Today was his first roped climb since we headed out to Mount Cuthbert, just shy of six month back.  As such the session was always intended to be a chilled, slow paced outing, with nothing too serious.  We pondered whether the low grade trad lines of the Organ Pipes or Driftwood Bay were calling us:

We opted for the shorter lines at the Organ Pipes, and as I looked across I was amazed at how low the tide was.  The namesake bay of Driftwood Bay no longer looking like a bay, more of a rock pool.  The last time I climbed at Driftwood, with Andrew, this rock pool was completely immersed and waves crashed right into the bay: https://sandbagged.blog/2021/07/11/taking-a-break/.  For both locations we had pondered, the best access is to rap in and as I went down I got a second shock.  It seemed, on first inspection, that someone has been working my age old project, Reaper Man.  Chalk was plastered on the familiar slopey holds:

After seven plus years I still haven’t led it, and in truth today would have been a good day to do it.  The friction needs to be good, and as the morning wore on it was getting better.  But I didn’t and it is possible that I may have missed my chance before someone comes along and places a line of bolts.  It reminds me a bit when Mark and I put up a new route in Alice Springs days before the bolts were going to be placed.  We led it on trad and called it the Fight to be Free https://sandbagged.blog/2017/11/03/part-11-alice-springs-rock-rock-and-more-rock/.  Admittedly this time the bolt positions, as indicated by the tell-tale crosses, follow the arête, not the face that Reaper Man follows.  But, the way the two lines climb only the middle section differs:

I ticked off the first easy lead on Dry Reach, and then Mario picked Heaven Calling.  This route spooked him a bit because of the last piece of protection.  The same last piece that Reaper Man uses, which was when he began to understand why I had not yet led it.  While taking the above image of him on this route I thought the camera lens needed a clean, but sadly not.  Neither of us could figure out when it had happened, but after years and years of swinging off my harness and being bashed around the lens of the camera had taken a fatal knock.  It is finally time to put my trusty camera to rest:

It was a good job I had my phone allowing me to capture some of the fun of the morning.  While the camera is damaged beyond (worthwhile) repair, Mario was going well and may be salvageable.  We knocked up line after a line alternating leads and not really going slow, as intended.  But the lines were never too hard, picking off lines that will bring good memories to others.  Such as Knocking on Heavens Door that Wiggins and I put up https://sandbagged.blog/2018/08/26/the-new-kid-on-the-block/.  It felt as nervous as it has the last two times I’ve led it, but based on the technical moves Mario reckoned the grade was fair.  It’s just the sparse protection that makes it a heady lead, so he was glad to have the rope above him:

Mario then enjoyed running up Spraying.  Following him up I spied, and put into my memory bank, another possible line to squeeze into this crag.  It’s amazing how many lines I have managed to find at this little overlooked crag, which I have never seen anyone else climb at.  This is another reason I was a little surprised to see someone looking at bolting here.  The last trip here was with Rongy and even then we put up three new routes, and my next lead was one that Rongy bagged after I failed on it https://sandbagged.blog/2020/05/14/stretching-the-vocal-cords/.  I got a clean lead of The Honest Box, and no I didn’t use the side walls or arêtes:

It may be a contrived line by saying you can’t use the features that are so close.  Still despite that stipulation Mario rated it as the best line of the day.  The next few lines might bring back some memories for Glen and Lou, https://sandbagged.blog/2016/08/21/breaking-in/.  When I sent Glen up English Summer, many years back, I was a little scared he would come a cropper, and in his usual fashion injure himself.  But he thankfully got up it and placed bomber gear, which he did test.  Mario really enjoyed the initial feisty crack, which had forced Glen to test his gear, and this made my mind up as to where I would send him next:

But before that it was my lead, which Lou may remember.  The New Kid on the Block is in my mind Lou’s crowning glory of the times I’ve climbed with her.  An on-sight first ascent of an unknown line, something I think she doubts she will ever do again.  That said she told me she has a six months break for study so was keen to get out on rock again, so you never know what might happen.  During this ascent I somehow managed to allow my wires to cascade down the line, as I was placing a piece of gear.  While they scattered about we fortunately found all of them, and I also fortunately had plenty of gear to get me up the rest of the line:

For Mario’s’ last lead I was keen to send him up Short and Sharp, the only other route on this wall.  Since Steve and I put this up in 2014, the same time I attempted Reaper Man for the first time, I only know of one person who has climbed it.  That was Mikey during his 10km challenge, https://sandbagged.blog/2017/12/21/sprint-finish/.  I have always thought it was a pretty solid line, and like Mikey back then it took Mario a while to find some gear to trust and get going.  This time however, in addition to the loose blocks at the top there was also a loose flake half way up.  And there was no other option but to use it, very gingerly.  Despite the loose rock Mario thoroughly enjoyed himself on what may be just the third ascent of this one:

To round the morning off we set up a top rope to try the Reaper Man and also the new line that is yet to be bolted.  I calmly climbed the first, and based on the way I climbed it I’m again kicking myself I didn’t lead it.  And the new line had me foxed in the upper section until I realised that based on the chalked up holds they had moved back onto the face, away from the arête.  Maybe on my next trip here the bolts will be in place and I can led the new route, my project finally and maybe the other new line I spotted today.  I know Howsie has yet to climb here, which is quite surprising, so I might try and convince about a trip here soon:

The temperatures have been soaring in the south west of Western Australia over Christmas, and with a week of hot days forecast some might question the sense in heading out for a climb.  It was already 26 degrees when I left the house at 4:30, making me think that a 5:30 meet at the carpark of Wilyabrup was probably a bit of a late start.  But today was, like my last trip out, going to be a cruisy one.  Howsie and Nadia were taking a friend who hadn’t been outdoors much, so we were not aiming to do anything hard:

We drove in separately today, as I was meeting Lisa afterwards in Busselton, needing to keep an eye out for roos on the track in.  Today we set ourselves up at the southern end of the crag and spent the whole morning mostly having fun on a number of the shorter and easier lines.  Normally this end would have a group or two playing on these lines, but today we had it to ourselves.  Maybe the promises of another hot day had kept everyone at bay.  We started in a route Andrew and I had established way back, Grotesque:

I doubt many people have ever been on it, as the gear is a little sparse and questionable.  But the climbing is never too hard so I knew Howsie would be fine on it.  I did however notice Nadia pickup on the brief mention of the gear, but she didn’t say anything.  Sometimes it is best not to know.  You may be wondering where the name of the route came from, well an existing line just to the right is called Gargoyle.  A gargoyle is a decorative stone carving that you find on old buildings:

They are usually shaped like the head of a strange and ugly creature or human, and are spouts funnelling the water that comes off the building during a shower.  Grotesques are also stone carvings of strange and ugly creatures on old buildings, but they are purely decorative and do not have the same function of controlling the water.  So I named it for no other reason other than I felt like the two routes made a good pair, literarily and historically speaking.  Even before we were finished on the first line, the sun was coming over the horizon and it had a sting to it:

So we were pleased to be setting the belay up as a top rope after each route had been led.  We moved leftwards, next up was Candy Floss and then Brepus.  I was curious and checked what brepus meant, and felt it is probably best not to include that on this post.  While short these routes are fun and allowed Josh the chance to try an arête, face and then crack-chimney climb.  Each requiring a different climbing technique.  It was also a chance for Josh to check out the protection we were placing, admittedly the first route didn’t have much on it and in fact when Howsie led the chimney he put equally few pieces in:

It was not a day to be moving too fast and over exerting ourselves, not that this was an excuse for placing less gear.  Howsie also went into complete laid back mode with his belaying, as Josh went up the next route.  The only thing that didn’t make the lounging around in the shade below the crag pleasant were the flies, more than I have ever seen at Wilyabrup.  Relentlessly seeking out any moisture, and capitalizing on any broken skin.  We had moved across to Twenty Questions, and both Josh and then Nadia asked themselves at least that many, as they pondered the crux move:

This probably included “why am I doing this”, “surely this is not the right way”, “I wonder if they will let me down if I ask” and of course we wouldn’t, which was proven when Nadia asked.  It was pleasing to see them not give up and they both made it up, and persevered even when they both were close to coming off at the midway point.  This route has a bit of face, crack and arête climbing, as well as other styles.  So they needed to make use of the techniques the last three climbs had required, all in one route:

After four fun routes it was time for Howsie to have a little self-indulgence.  We had talked about this before today, and while there was a route I was keen to play on the heat was putting me off.  Howsie was however keen and picked Rockfish Dreaming.  A feisty and steep line, one he had never been on before so it was going to be fun to watch.  I did suggest a few times where the route headed, as he started to look up vaguely.  It’s not the most obvious, due to a large flake having fallen off from low down:

This resulted in the route weaving a bit to the right, then left before heading back up right to the centre stage of the steep headwall.  After the monkeying around below the arms start to get pumped, and the headwall starts on small crimpy holds, ready to make your forearms pop.  I led it a few months back and could still remember how they felt, but Howsie made it look easy.  Practically running up the final wall, as a few fat drops of rain fell.  Just for a while the air temperature dropped and it felt lovely:

Needless to say Nadia was definitely not keen to run up this one, Josh indicated he’d like to try but was sure he’d fail at the roof that you have to get over straight off the deck.  So it was only me following up and while the first half flowed well, the headwall felt hard.  The rain was enough to raise the humidity and I sweated myself up the line, and felt exhausted at the top.  But before we hoicked our way out I led Tom Thumb Direct, which Nadia was keen to try but felt too tired and Josh seemed to run up without needing to stop and think:

We might need to through Josh at a harder line or two next time.  But for today it was time for a sweaty walk out, but there was a much appreciated cool breeze.  We passed a couple who had just arrived and were setting up a top rope above where we were climbing.  There was also a group abseiling on Steel Wall, and seeing no one had walked past where we had been all day we were surprised at how many cars were at the carpark.  We were however happy to leave them to it, and hit the road and enjoy a bit of air-conditioning:

With the summer solstice having passed a couple of days ago it’s all downhill from here, with regards to our days getting shorter.  Not that this will affect our Friday mornings for a while.  It is already bright way before we arrive.  And the sun is already tipping over the horizon, bathing the treetops in that glorious morning glow.  People might say we are mad getting up before 4am, but with sights like this it is well and truly worth it.  Any negative thoughts we may have had, as we get up and drive out, are dispelled not just for now but for the whole day:

On arrival this morning we were greeted by a campsite.  Several tents lay silent, as we drove in one after the other.  We chatted and got ready, as we normally do.  But not a sound could be heard from those in the tents, as they were no doubt still observing the inside of their eyelids.  More by design than intention we stayed on the opposite side of the quarry to the tents, warming up on Murky Corner.  Some may question the lowly grade of this route and why we might do this, which is in part due to the special time of year:

I had suggested after last weekend’s rock antics that we should maybe pick one tricky line each.  A route that we know would be at our limits, but one we always enjoy and would consider a great gift if we got it clean.  This was said , maybe in jest, with the hope that Santa will be feeling in a giving mood the day before Christmas.  So before we had even got here we had lined up Chasing Mason for Rongy, Flight Simulator for Howsie and Attack of the March Flies for myself.  Three lofty aspirations, we knew, but it was Christmas Eve so why not dream:

So Murky Corner seemed a good limb to get the body moving and shake any lethargy or lack of focus that might be lurking within.  And also of course to warm up and get the blood flowing, without wearing us down too much.  It is also why I brought a selection of cameras, feeling that I would have more time for some photography.  Rongy felt the best after our warm up and was straight onto Chasing Mason.  And then straight off it.  So it started, on it, of it, on it, of it… you get the picture.  It was hard, we already knew that:

We all got up it, eventually, and thoroughly enjoyed the battle.  Howsie, was however left questioning his chosen line.  Clipping that scary third bolt was on his mind, hanging heavy and eating away at his confidence.  So instead he went for a very worthy alternative, at the same grade.  Taj vs The World, fingery, technical, sustained and steep.  The perfect choice allowing me to hang off the anchors of Rongy’s route and have a perfect view of every move he made.  He was looking good.  First clip, second clip and only one to go before the jugs come:

Like Rongy, he had a battle on his hand with the crux.  The small and slopey fingertip holds just didn’t seem to be enough, as he climbed, fell, climbed, fell, climbed, fell, and again you probably catch my drift.  Despite all the hard work and tiring arms, like Rongy, he persevered and was smiling broadly when he was rewarded with reaching the lower offs.  We followed up loving the challenge of the line.  As we climbed with total and unrelenting focus on the task before us, behind us there was finally movement from the tents:

I stuck to my line of choice.  And like both Rongy and Howsie, once I got to the crux the rope started loose, then went tight as I fell.  This continued with the rope being loose, tight, loose, tight.  One thing was for sure today we were all trusting and pushing ourselves, right to our limits.  Unafraid of coming off, which might seem a strange thing to say.  But that fear of falling will restrain many a climber from attempting, let along getting up, lines above their comfort zone:

While it was another very enjoyable morning, thanks to Rongy and Howsie.  The reason I decided to write today up and share it was because of the images I captured, which I get as much enjoyment out of as I do the climbing itself.  And for this morning even more so due to the moon obligingly hanging in the morning sky.  Also it gives me a chance to say have a very Merry Christmas and here’s hoping for a New Year full of magical adventure and encounters:

I guess it goes without saying that if you’ve been throwing up all morning the last thing you want to do is cling off a rock face.  So when I was a mere ten minutes away from picking Ash up, and he messaged me to say that was how his morning had been, it was of course absolutely fine for him to bail.  Ash was also considerate enough to check if I still needed his rope, on the assumption that I would still be meeting Matthew.  But it was all good, once a scout always a scout, and I had come prepared.  Something had told me this morning, as I left the house, to throw a rope in just in case:

I wished Ash well, hoping he would come good soon.  I’ve not heard from him yet.  So I guess he is resting up, and if so it was a good thing he didn’t join us and make things worse.  I was indeed still meeting Matthew, but whose he you might ask.  I have a bunch of images that my desktop at work scroll through, and at a recent meeting one of my climbing images popped up and this started a conversation about, well climbing.  That’s when I found out that Matthew, who was in the same meeting, had been known to play on rock in the home country:

Today Ash was going to continue his journey in building up trad leading experience.  We had therefore picked a crag that had a few milder climbs.  This also suited Matthew, as he had openly said after I had first talked to him about going for a climb that he would be rusty, and may not even get off the ground.  I found out that it had in fact been over a decade since he had climbed outdoors, but he had, since then, very occasional visited an indoor gym.  I though my last trip here had been with Mario, when a rock came away in his hand and he took a healthy fall.  I was surprised to see that was over two years back, https://sandbagged.blog/2019/10/19/two-out-of-two/:

I was kinda right with my guess about that being the last time I climbed here.  Although a mob of us, including Lisa, did siege The Playground (https://sandbagged.blog/2020/01/18/theres-gold-in-them-there-hills/).  That was a very social day indeed, but we didn’t make it to Lost Buttress.  Matthew and I left the carpark, which was empty, at about 6 and I expected that no one would be about for hours yet.  My rationale being that yesterday had been a bit of a manky day, so the Perth crew were probably still in Perth.  However, after a quick visit to the wonderful Wilyabrup toilet, and as we were walking back up towards the cape to cape track the next bunch of climbers were already walking in:

They were however heading to the main cliffs, and we left then behind as we followed the cape to cape track until we got to the Northern Blocks.  From here there is a fun rock hop along the coast.  Granted we could have driven to nearly the top for the crag, which Steve would have loved doing.  But I like the walk, and Matthew had said he too was looking forward to the walk in.  I expected the rock to be a tad damp, not only from the rain but also the salt spray that was blowing up from the waves.  But it was fine, and after a quick run through of belaying and tying in, just in case, I was off:

My intention had never been to go hard today.  Not only because I was hoping Ash would have been on the sharp end most of the time, but also because Friday’s early morning session at Welly Dam had been once again pretty tough.  During that session I had been well and truly humbled by Flight Simulator, resulting in both myself and Rongy, who was belaying me, to experience air time several times.  Today we started, as we intended to carry on, going easy.  No Nuts Required was the first line and indeed I didn’t place any nuts, only using cams:

My rationale being that Matthew would be testing himself enough without needing to fiddle out any passive such as wires, tricams or hexes.  While he admitted his flexibility let him down on some moves, he still pulled off the climb.  I could see that his muscle memory from a decade back, wasn’t vanquished it had just lay dormant waiting until it was needed again.  The first line, including his first contact with the good old Australian carrot bolt, hadn’t put him off.  Next up was Baby Shower, at a similar grade, that was approx. equivalent to the British grade of HS 4a/4b:

We were taking our time and while the two routes hadn’t put Matthew off, he wasn’t too keen to go much harder on the first trip out.  He was however keen to wandered across to The Playground.  Here the rope and rack stayed on the deck, as we played about bouldering.  It was a lot of fun and I even jumped on Slimeball, which I had given a grade of 19 when we first recorded it.  On The Crag those who have since repeated it reckon it is V3, which is about grade 24.  I really don’t think so, even today it all felt not too bad and 19 is more than fair:

As I continued snapping images of the morning Matthew said I guess I might get a mention in your blog now.  I’m not sure if he was hinting at anything, but my rapid reply was quite simply.  It goes without saying, and that it was an unwritten rule of anyone I head out climbing with.  That’s not really true, but no one has to date objected to being included.  Despite not bagging too many routes the morning went by way too quickly.  Maybe it was in part due to all the reminiscing and talking about the great climbing places in the home country.  But, eventually Matthew’s arms could take no more, which only left us the fun hike out:

Over the last two weeks I have not posted anything about my climbing antics, but that is not to say I haven’t been getting out.  The early morning Friday climbs at Welly Dam have occurred, start at 5am which has allowed for a solid session before work calls us.  Two weeks back Howsie and I packed in an impressive eight routes, albeit the lower grade lines on offer there.  Then this week Rongy was back and we climbed six lines, this time however we bumped up the grades hitting a couple of 22s and only climbing one route that was less than grade 20.  It was a solid session:

So solid that all three of us could feel that satisfying ache during the working day that proceeded.  The three of us then hit Wilyabrup on Sunday, as the effects of the rapid fire harder climbs at Welly Dam were finally starting to subside.  The western coastline has been ravaged by bushfires this past week, a huge one to the south and one to the north.  Luckily for us a safe distance away from where we were today, the smoke did however hang heavily in the air as we drove in and walked the crag:

The smoke haze lifted as the day went on, and the clouds also drifting away.  It had rained here last night.  And as the firefighters battled to get the fires under control, I am sure they would have welcomed the cooler weather and light sprinkle that came with it.  All of these factors gave me hope that the crag may be quiet.  With luck the climbers from Perth were less likely to make the trip down during uncertain conditions.  Of course, with us getting to the crag for 5:30, there was no one about at the start.  The rock was damp from the rain and also had that salty feel:

Not the best conditions to get us going, but that’s fine.  Rongy and then I led us up a couple of rambling lines that took in easier ground on an area of rock that we rarely climb.  It was nice to go up some unfamiliar territory, not knowing what to expect.  Yesterday I had yet another early start.  Having headed to Perth by train, as Lisa and I were picking up a new car.  This required getting up about 4:30, so this was my third day on the trot of being up and out before light had crept into the sky:

While I can manage early starts.  Three days on the trot is probably not very sensible and I could feel the effects, as I led the route of my choice.  I wondered how I’d go with what was to come next, as I knew what Howsie had in mind next.  It is 2021 and that of course means he was keen to bag a few grade 21 climbs.  For those that will remember, 2020 had got hectic.  He set himself a target of cleanly leading every grade 20 in the South West.  Towards the end of 2020, that all changed as the challenge had taken the fun out of climbing:

Being 2021, he was now looking at the grade 21s but he no longer felt that he had to get on every one of them.  And there are still quite a few that he hasn’t.  It is great to see that this isn’t stressing him out, and he is only hitting them when he feels up to it.  Today I knew he had his eye on one at the northern end of the main cliffs of Wilyabrup.  I’d only ever seconded Craig up this line, many years back, and neither Howsie nor Rongy had ever been on it.  So again it was a route that all three of us were unfamiliar with, which added to the excitment:

Welcome to Arapiles has what some might call a sketchy start, so Rongy watched closely ready to assist if Howsie should slip before he got any gear in.  After a certain height is reached by the climber, the aim would be to protect the head.  Broken bones may occur if you are unlucky but the head is all important.  Howsie was however being careful and methodical and soon popped in a cam, allowing Rongy to relax.  Then as he got higher I dashed to my next vantage point.  To show the extent I go, to get images, above you will see what I climbed in my sandals:

With a 10m scramble below me I found a great spot that out me as the same height as Howsie.  He was perched below the roof, looming ominously above him, that he had to get over.  After getting in some good gear from his relatively relaxed position, he then proceeded to go up checking the holds and gear options before climbing back down to his perch.  This he did quite a lot of time, not once getting any more gear in but at least becoming more familiar with the sequence and holds.  Below is a video of one of these times.  These repeated ascents and descents also resulted in him becoming more tired:

When he eventually went for it, he found another piece of gear and then as he started for the final roof his arms began to really to complain.  Fortunately for him the final roof was avoidable and he snuck off right before his hands could no longer hold on.  It was an impressive lead and as Rongy and then I followed we found him grinning like a Cheshire cat unable to hide his excitement of what he had just done.  In theory Rongy was up next, but as we came back down he indicated he wasn’t feeling it, and would happily allow me to jump on lead next:

I didn’t think about it, and immediately racked up heading back to the area that I had such fun with Jamie and Rongy a while back and then more recently Steve.  It’s an area that I have rarely climbed and I’ve never led The Great Temptress, supposedly a grade 19 that works its way up through four roofs.  It was brilliant, both exciting and scary and with each roof It felt more and more pumpy.  Or was I just getting tired.  At the fourth roof the sting came, and like Howsie it was my turn to go up and down like a yo-yo.  The final hold was less than a foot away from my hands on each ascent, but the insecure position and lack of feet resulted in me just not being able to get to it:

I was shattered.  After, was it five, six, seven or more attempts, where I climbed up and then back down never resting on the rope my forearms were screaming.  Eventually I snuck left, and set myself up so I could get a great view of the other two coming up to see how they fared.  Rongy managed the final hold but only just, which were his words.  Snatching for a, not so great, pinch and then barely managing to use it.  By the time Howsie got to the last roof he was toasted, but gave it his all and eventually managed to haul himself up:

It was a solid and fantastic line, as had Welcome to Arapiles been.  Howsie and I were really tired now, so we looked to Rongy to take the next lead.  He too wasn’t up for anything hard or even moderately challenging.  Instead looking for a fun route that he hadn’t been on before.  Like me, until earlier this year, he also hadn’t climbed many of the big corners here.  Decision made, and he romped up Chockstone Chimney placing less gear than Howsie or I felt was required.  But it did mean that as we followed up, with packs on our back, there was only one piece to take out:

Yes you read right, one piece only!  Rongy did admit it was maybe not the smartest of moves, even though it was only a grade 9 climb and the rock was now in great condition.  Sat in the sun at the top of the crag we sorted the gear ready to leave, and still we had the place to ourselves.  Like the good ole days, when I first started climbing in this area sixteen years ago.  With Howsie and my final rooves, and Rongy’s almost solo it is fair to say we all had a good dose of Xcitement: