We were in for another warm day, and while we weren’t the first at the carpark we were the first at the crag.  The occupants of the two cars already parked up were still in slumber land as we walked in.  It’s been an abnormally hot summer, a record breaking one with more individual days over 40 in Western Australia than during any other summer on record.  Australia’s heatwaves are usually driven by high pressures lying over the Australian bight to the south.  This year this phenomena has been more regular and consistent:

In addition there has been a regular high pressure off the west coast, and this has at times resulted in the Freemantle Doctor not coming to drop the temperatures.  Normally during summer, a cooling sea breeze would coming in the evening to provide respite.  Locally known as the Freemantle Doctor.  Without this the place stays warmer overnight, and this repetitive pattern of warmer nights and hot days results in the whole place heating up.  What’s really interesting, and I knew this through work, is that heatwaves are Australia’s deadliest natural hazard:

More people die from heatwaves than floods or bushfires.  Despite that, so little is done to improve how we plan our cities and towns, or build our houses to reduce the urban heat island effect.  Where a bubble of hot air forms over the concrete jungles we insist on building.  While it would be warming up today, Ash and I were keen to have a chilled session.  A recent climbing accident of a friend of Ash had, understandably, knocked Ash’s confidence.  But he was still keen to keep climbing, so today was about helping him to rebuild his trad leading mojo:

There is of course only one way to do that.  Get on the sharp end and enjoy some cruisy lines.  Ones that won’t stress you out and allows you to reset your climbing mindset.  We jumped on the obvious well protected Glory and Hope, heaps of easy to spot and place gear.  As each piece slots in your mind can relax that bit more, and you feel safer.  I led and first and Ash jumped on the second, Hope.  He laced it up with stacks of solid gear.  After all if you are going to put it on your harness then you might as well use it, to save hauling it all the way up the climb:

You might notice above that Ash not only had a harness full of hardware, but he also brought along his big gear.  I’ve only used a No.5 and 6 Camelot once, with Kym when I took on what felt to me like a brutal off-width.  Not big enough to wedge your body in or arm bar, but not narrow enough to jam with one hand.  But while I haven’t used them at Wilyabrup, it didn’t mean we couldn’t find a route or two for Ash to use them.  Orryjohn seemed a likely candidate, a wide crack at the back of a chimney.  Like his first lead he throwing the gear in at every opportunity:

Climbing with, and placing so much gear, can be time consuming.  But today was about resetting Ash’s mind, by cramming in and trusting the gear not by bagging lots of routes.  So far it looked like it was working.  Orryjohn was a big hit.  Ash was keen to get one more lead in and had his eyes on one of the big corners.  His choice of Fat Crack was out, due to a party top roping right next to it.  We had managed two routes before the trickle of climbers drifted in.  So we picked another one of the wide corners, Chockstone Chimney:

Ash romped up his third lead, placing less gear than the other two.  More so due to the ease of the route than anything else, but it was great to see him run it out a bit more with confidence.  To boot all of his big Camelots got used for a second time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if after today they are put back into storage.  The harness certainly feels a lot heavier and more cumbersome with them hanging off it.  Despite the rising temperature, I reckon we achieved our goal of enjoying the climbing and staying cool headed:

Being the last week of my go slow January, and due to having a public holiday in the middle of the week, I took Thursday and Friday off to really chill out.  It’s going to be a bit of a rude awakening next week, when it is back to the five days week.  But I am making the most of it before then, with a trip to Welly Dam on Wednesday; helping Craig to put the frame for his new shed up  yesterday; getting out with Howsie today and then tomorrow I’ll help Ash get his trad leading head back:

I’m not known for my love of the sun, avoiding the sun being a key reason for why I like such early starts for climbing.  But yesterday, helping Craig with his shed, there was no escaping it.  You could say I’m a bit of a wuss in that regard, I get really weary when I’m in the sun all day.  Therefore, it was a good job that today Howsie and I were visiting the Organ Pipes.  I could take it a bit easy, allowing Howsie to take nearly all of the leads.  In part, as I had recently been here with Mario but mostly because Howsie has not climbed here before:

He is like me.  He loves climbing for climbing sake, so I knew he would enjoy the at times more rambling style of routes here.  If you can forgive that they are good trad lines, with a good number awaiting Howsie to tick them off.  We started easy, allowing him to get a feel for the rock.  We had a rap line set up, and as many lines start from the same location we could throw the rope down.  It was quite fast paced morning.  While Howsie was loving lead after lead I was bidding my time, waiting for my chance:

After Howsie had enjoyed four very fun leads I decided it was now or never.  Time to once again battle my demons and attempt my long term project.  As I started the excuses began to enter my head.  The first four routes had been just enough to wear the initial layer of skin from my fingertips, and I could feel the sweat seeping out more easily.  It also felt like my arms where tired, did I get too much sun yesterday?  Then there was the anticipation of what was to come, runout gear, delicate balancy moves, and small smeary holds.  Only one point of contact needed to fail and I’d be off:

Despite all of those thought rattling about in my head I managed, finally, to get a clean ascent of The Reaper Man.  It has only been waiting for me to lead it since 2014, but I can’t see people flocking to repeat it.  We weren’t sure about the grade 19 or 20 but looking at my grade app I reckon a UK E2 5b/c is fair, so I’ll go with 20.  Seeing this route has been such a mind game for me I had to video it.  Whichever grade it really is, Howsie won’t need to climb it as part of his annual challenge.  The year of 20’s, 2020, has passed and I get the feeling he might be pleased about that:

After my one lead I was more than happy to hand the rope back to him.  The next few routes were not as hard but the grades, compared to his first four leads, were going up.  Two of which had reasonable runouts at the tricky cruxes in the upper sections, offering a long fall should things go amiss.  I could tell he too was getting tired, which was not a surprise.  Taking on lead after lead is mentally draining.  Also being new routes, for him, there is a tendency to hang onto holds for longer than necessary.  As you ponder what might be above, so it is also physically more demanding:

Three routes later, and only just over three hours after we started climbing, we decided it was time to wrap things up.  There are still a few routes here that Howsie will have to come back for; he just wouldn’t have had the energy to do them justice today.  While I am loving all this climbing, it is taking my time away from the water and with each passing day it looks like our local beach is really starting to clear up again.  Hopefully the clarity will be like it was before Christmas again, but I might not get in until after my first full week of work for a while:

Australia Day means different things to different people.  Some see it as a celebration and some as sad reminder of when things went south.  For Steve, Rongy and I, yet another public holiday provided us with an opportunity to get away from it all, at least for the morning.  We instead immersed ourselves in the outdoors and, as you no doubt now come to expect, a bit of rock.  Welly Dam was on the cards and as I approached the area a group of five guys were furiously waving me down:

I don’t quite know how they managed to get any sleep, but the five of them had slept in their standard sedan sized car. During the process they had managed to drain the battery.  It only felt right to help them out, which I did before heading to the quarry via the toilets.  The gardens near the toilets, at the café, were alive with small birds.  What with three of us climbing I had brought my SLR today.  So I pulled my camera out and sat there for a while watching the birds, capturing the above Brown Honeyeater:

Honeyeaters are named for the obvious reason.  They have over time developed brush-tipped tongues especially adapted to be able to collect nectar from within the flowers they feed on.  While it was great watching all the birds, the one that had really caught my eye was the Variegated Fairy Wren.  A very dainty and colourful wren that is found in and around shrubs, as it feeds.  They don’t sit still for long, blink and they will normally have hopped away or flown off.  They rarely come out into the open, so it took me ages to get a good image:

The rock was however calling, and that was a stronger call than the bird song.  Rongy and I have been climbing here heaps, with our Friday morning sessions, so we handed the rope to Steve and said he could pick the lines.  After staring on Murky Corner he started to complain about not feeling fit, and suggesting he simply couldn’t improve his climbing strength or stamina.  Rongy and I nodded politely and offered him the rope again, which he gladly accepted.  He then romped up Raging Torrent, not really looking like he was weak or tired:

The five guys I had helped out with their flat battery appeared, and spent sometime in the quarry.  Their brought with them music, which bounced off the walls.  Normally this disturbance of the peace, and nature’s sounds, would niggle me.  But today it seemed ok.  The three of us enjoyed the change in ambience, as Steve then flew up Pocket Knife.  Rongy was kind enough to take control of belaying, as I ran about taking images and watching birds.  This wren had me a bit foxed, but I think it is an Eclipse Variegated Fairy Wren:

I’ll be honest and I didn’t know what this meant.  Google helped and the term eclipse is related to its plumage.  The dull “female-like” plumage, the internet’s words not mine!, is displayed by males for a while in summer after breeding.  Basically these more dreary colours eclipse the normally bright plumage of the male.  It is something ducks are normally known for.  However, other birds also go through the same process, including the Variegated Fairy Wren.  As Steve finished each route, we pulled the rope and both Rongy and I led the line, giving Steve enough recuperation time:

Next to fall was Welcome to Edges.  He confessed that he finds reaching and clipping the anchors mentally challenging.  He is not alone with that, but today he didn’t think twice about it and was soon coming back down to allow us to have a bash.  I really enjoyed flitting between bird watching, climbing and copious amounts of photography.  I didn’t however have the patience to wait for a better image of this Splendid Fairy Wren.  A species we see at home and, unlike the other wren, unafraid of open spaces.  But again one that rarely sits still:

Steve was keen for one more climb to end today’s session, and there were a few he had in mind.  Savage Sausage Sniffer was the winner, and finally I could see him starting to tire.  But despite taking two falls, the only ones today, each time he got back on he kept his cool and worked the moves with control and precision.  Afterward he accepted that maybe his earlier concerns about a lack of strength and stamina were probably unfounded.  In fact you could say he was a bit of a twinkle toes today, looking light as a feather:

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: