Needless to say I have been having a dip in the ocean over the last few days, and not wanting to head out in the car all of my swims on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and finally Boxing Day have been off my local beach. The morning of Christmas Eve was busy on the beach, the usually sight of tourists getting bogged in the sand swearing blind they had let their tyres down. That said I’ve been guilty of not letting them down resulting in being bogged, but only once. I left them behind as I put my head under the water to see what I could find:
I drifted for well over 45min but the fish were few and far between and there were very few other marine creatures to be found. Despite this, just being in the water seemed reward enough especially on a hot day. There are always great sights to be seen such as this school of White Trevally, the same fish that were hiding in the huge school of Western Trumpeter Fish that I came across when diving with Rongy. And also this beautiful Western Stripped Cardinal Fish, which being a nocturnal fish are often found in nooks and crannies during the day:
On Christmas before all the festivities of the day began, Lisa headed down for a walk on the beach and I took the opportunity to put my head under once more. Being early Christmas Day we were greeted with an almost empty beach, which soon started to fill up. The clear waters were full of promise, but also once more all the marine life seemed to be hiding, and despite duck diving to check under lots of shelfs and caves there was very little to take a snap of and nothing that needed any research when I got home:
The floor was littered with sea stars, sand gobblers and urchins but I feel like I have swamped you with images of these many times before. So the only image from that day, beside the beach, is this Blue Swimmer Crab. Each year there seems to be a creature that I see in greater numbers than normal, and this season has started with these guys. I usually find a few but this year they seem to be popping up everywhere, and as I came out of the water I passed a couple who had started fishing before I arrived. All the guy had caught were two crabs:
Boxing Day came and I felt the need to get out of the house before Lisa and I started to lounge about watching TV and eating too much food. The water was choppy, a stiff wind had come in to cool the place down after five very hot days. It was a welcome change while out of the water but the wind was stirring things up below. With the light penetrating the water I could see the bed quite well, but looking sideways was pointless. To prove the point I happened to pop my head out at the right time to see a pod of some eight dolphins cruise past me only some six meters away, yet underwater they were hidden from view:
I didn’t stay out too long because of the conditions and heading in I spotted a sea star on the sandy bed well away from the reef. I’ve not seen one out in the open like this before, and as I dived down to take a closer look I noticed the upper skin had lots of little jelly like looking protrusions, again something I haven’t noticed before. Reading up on the anatomy of sea stars it seems they are papulae, also known as dermal branchiae or in less technical terms skin gills. They assist with breathing and can be extended out of and withdrawn into the skin. The unanswered questions for me being why with all the sea stars I have observed have I not seen this before and why did this one have them extended:
On Monday this week I headed out to see what I could find, this time I decided to go down to the Capel River mouth and snorkel in the wide bay. Driving along there are glimpses of the ocean, and it was not looking as good as I had hoped. Our local beach is relatively sheltered but on either side of where the Capel River meets the ocean the dunes are lower and the wind was channelling through this gap resulting in the water being a little on the choppy side. Sure enough from the moment I put my head under the water the visibility wasn’t that great:
Still after having made the effort to get here I decided to keep going to see if it would clear up a little further out. Patches were indeed better, but the usual fish life was somewhat wanting today. I came across a few fish other than the above Horseshoe Leatherjacket, they however kept their distance and hid in the weed when I came too close. The only other find worth mentioning was what I think is a Tailor, a large recreational fish growing to 1.2 meters long. This solitary fish was close to a meter long and cruised past me keeping an even and steady pace, as if to say don’t even bother trying to catch me:
That evening friends came over for a drink and catch-up and I was offered a chance to head out and go for a scuba dive. It is something that I have considered over the last few years, but as yet had not put into action. Brian was keen to hunt crays (i.e. western rock lobsters), which meant a deeper dive and one with a mission. While I committed to heading out with him and Esky I was a little in two minds. Then the next morning I got a message from Rongy to say he was hunting a dive buddy to head out with him:
Rongy works at the Dolphin Discovery Centre and amongst his other duties he looks after the aquariums, some of which are quite sizable. The upkeep of these require marine flora and fauna, and every so often these need to be topped up. As such it was again a dive with a mission. However, the depths that he would be going too were shallower. As such I made my mind up to take offer number two, and finally take the plunge into the ocean with more than just my flippers and snorkel mask:
After sorting the gear and preparing the boat, we were off. A short 15-20min journey and we were at our destination, not that you could tell anything from looking in the water. Above you can just make out Bunbury, as we anchored off a reef that was in water no deeper than 15m. With a borrowed 5mm wetsuit and scuba gear I rolled off the side of the boat for my first dive in 19 years, almost to the day. My last dive was with Lisa on boxing day 2001, over in Queensland on the Great Barrier Reef:
Fair to say I was a little nervous but Rongy knew how long it had been and did the appropriate checks to make sure I was all good to go. The first thing that struck me was the weight of all the gear. All this weight disappears once you are in the water, but today we were here to work and as such we also had a myriad of tools, nets, containers, crates and more. My job was simply follow Rongy and be ready to take any chosen corals to the crates, and make sure pots were ready for any chosen marine life:
In-between swimming from Rongy to the crates and back again I occasionally took my time when I spotted something of interest. Above are some small fish I have only seen once before, in a cave while snorkelling off our local beaches. Yellowhead Hulafish are a small but flighty little fish, and they don’t sit very still so it wasn’t possible to get a better image without spending more time just floating along with them. There’s also a Rough Bullseye photobombed the image, of which there were quite a few about:
The above sea star also stood out so I snapped this image as I swam above it on my way back to Rongy. The shape seems to be similar to the Echinaster genus of sea star, so I am guessing that this is what I found. I have previously found a white version of this sea star in early 2020 but never had it confirmed: https://sandbagged.blog/2020/01/27/the-old-stomping-ground/. Rongy was also keeping an eye out for finds and pointed me towards this ray. It would have been great to again take my time and get a bit closer to confirm which one it is, but the patterning gives me confidence in saying it is a Spotted Stingaree:
The water had reasonable visibility but it was not super clear. Each time Rongy handed me something to take back to the crate I had check my surroundings and guess which way to go. I’d look for the anchor chain and rope, and then the less visible rope attached to the haul crate. I somehow managed to find Rongy again on each return trip, but for a period that became really easy. A huge shoal of large Southern Silver Drummers, that reach 75cm in length, came towards us and swam round us like a tornado for what seemed like ages:
Another fish that caught my eye was this Yellow-striped Leatherjacket, of which there were two that swam round together near where the anchor lay. The male with the orange patch, and the image below of the female with a yellow patterning on the caudal fin (tail). Both were displaying the giveaway yellow strip down the side that tapers towards the eye and slowly moulds into the dark ash grey body. They are very elegant fish with striking features and clean lines:
The reef was similar to that off my local beach, but in deeper water. We hunted under shelfs and in small caves but nothing else was to be found in them. The reef was however littered with sponges, corals and sea squirts. The se squirts in particular caught my eye and was found in colours that I don’t see off my local beach. I’ve had a bash at trying to identify them but it seems an impossible task. So for a brief moment I’m going to stop typing and allow you to enjoy the following three images:
After our first dive we headed up, and I forgot the important lesson of a couple of decades back… the safety swim. Instead of stopping 3-5m below the surface and pondering there for a few minutes before surfacing I instead gently continued on my upwards journey. The reward was a slightly thick head, as the air in my blood stream expanded. While it lasted long enough for me to opt out of another dive it didn’t last too long. So while Rongy was diving below me at the next location I snorkelled above:
In 3-6m of water snorkelling worked well and it also avoided me staying on the boat that was rocking back and forth. I’ve discovered I do not possess the sea legs I once thought I did. While Rongy was below he never saw the sight of thousands upon thousands of Western Striped Trumpeters, that almost made the light disappear. And hiding amongst them a far smaller school of White Trevally. I have to say that while I made a rooky error, it was a great dive and I wasn’t put off heading out again… whenever the next chance (or two) should popup:
After a day hanging about at home, going for a snorkel and chilling out watching a bit of TV with Lisa it was hard to motivate myself to pack up the car and head south. Kym and I had been scheming a trip out for quite a while now, and on this occasion I had decided on a bit of a later drive down, for various reasons. As such the clock just passed 4:30 before I hit the road. It was a little later than sensible, with a four hour drive ahead it meant I would be heading down through dusk and into darkness, which is when the roos are more likely to be out and about. An hour or so into the journey as I headed inland the skies ahead greyed over, not from dusk but smoke:
The smoke thickened as I drove and I kept a watchful eye out east in case I could see any flames. It got really thick reminding me of a few trips in the UK driving though a never ending soupy fog, this one however did end and after about an hour I was out the other side. It was a strange experience as the sky cleared up and once again brightened up. I spotted a couple of roos, hopping across the road, far enough ahead of me to easily slow down. There was also an emu closely followed by its young, which sprinted across the road as I got closer. Other than that the trip down went as planned, hitting Mount Barker as it got dark with only 45min of the journey to go:
Only Kym was up when I arrived, the others had all hit the sack. Like Lisa and I they were all shattered having just finished up the year and school just ending. Knowing Kym and Meg it would have been a packed and busy year, so the summer holiday would be very welcome. Kym however was awake, the night shifts playing havoc with his sleep routine. So as I drank tea and munched on a delicious homemade quiche we stayed up far later than my usual bed time chatting away. Eventually hitting the sack, and while I slept solidly Kym had a restless night. It is possible that the task that lay ahead was on his mind. I was up and about early, 5am and it is bright and the sun is up. It was going to be a quick trip this time so the morning and breakfast time would be my only chance to catch up with Meg, Tess, Claire and Beau:
My last trip down was in early June and Beau was still crawling but now he is walking about and is a very decisive and determined kid. After a bite to eat and all too brief catch-up it was time to head round to Ron’s, where the troops were to rally with Ang and then Jon arriving. With five of us and loads of gear we headed to our destination. Kym was strangely quiet and seemed pretty focused, again the task that lay ahead weighed heavy on his mind. We arrived with only a slight delay, as we had to assist an earlier party who had managed to get bogged on the sandy track. On the last trip here we encountered someone in need of help on the way out, but at least this time we didn’t have to manually push them out:
Climbing with Ron is a bit of an epic, in that he is well known for packing everything but the kitchen sink. His car was full of ropes, drills, gear and more. So there was a bit of haggling at the start, finally an agreement was settled on as to how many ropes we really needed. Landing on a slightly more sensible amount of gear than what we started with, but still managing to take in three racks, two lead ropes and three statics. Fortunately it is a short walk into this place, as we lugged the gear and set up two base camps. If you were new to this area I doubt you would ever find these locations and the rap stations:
But that is not why others don’t come here. Our destination was Convicts Corner, a place that the online guide (The Crag) boasts only two routes. However, over the last couple of years the boys have been busy here and there are now close to twenty quality lines, with quite a few that have yet to be led clean. Both Kym and Ron had a line each that they wanted to have a go at bagging today. Ang helped Ron with setting up so he could check the line and gear before he went for it. Kym and I had decided to head down and just go for it. There was no warming up today, and he would jump on the line we had spied on my first trip here just over a year ago:
This wall was by far the centrepiece of the area, in fact it is a little surprising that no one has previously been here to attempt it. It is steep and imposing but looks stunning, and while we ponded over the idea of having a go ground up in 2019, there were other good routes to bag then. That and in truth it looked a little daunting. Over this year Kym has been back a few times establishing new lines, some bolted, some mixed and some trad. He had also spent one day scoping this wall and decided to add four bolts, so in a way it was good that we hadn’t tried for the ground up ascent last time:
The first three bolts are on the start traverse and they were very much needed, I was belying off to the side in a corner and a lead fall would have been very nasty without the bolts. Kym was anxious as he made the first moves. From the very start it is on, slightly overhung, long reachy moves, sloper holds along a nervous traverse. Then a steep crack and layback up to the first roof. The moves over this were not as formidable as they first appeared, but once you step up another traverse awaits with spaced unseen underclings in an outrageous position. Images from the belay were never going to be that good, but Jon had set himself up on the rap line to get some good images from above, with a wall like this one it just had to be done:
Tricky moves keep hitting you, after the underclings it goes into a super delicate layback up rounded shallow cracks. More rounded cracks, occasionally just deep enough to take gear, then lead to another traverse on a thankfully deeper crack. The footwork stays delicate and you are on your arms leading you up the final roof. Here Kym stayed for quite a while allowing his arms to deflate from the sustained and pumpy moves, the climb hits you with one unrelenting sequence after another. It was delivering everything you could want and more. As Kym sat there he cleaned some loose rock off, good sized blacks hurtled down the wall. Due to its steepness and also the position of my belay ledge off to the side, the blocks sailed safely past me and crashed onto the rock shelf below:
It reminded me of being in the Zawn at Moses just a few days back, as I unintentionally knocked a few loose blocks down. This time it was my turn to be in the firing line, but that is all good it is part of climbing when you are in spots that don’t get a lot of attention. Eventually Kym went for the roof and I heard him shout out with joy as he topped out after being on the route for a long 45min. It was an epic lead for sure and one of the best climbs I’ve done. I have to admit to starting on this route cold was a scary proposition, the very first moves were hard and very reachy, and several times it felt like I was off but somehow I hung on. Each sequence fell into place and finally I only had the roof left. I’m not sure if it was my lack of reach, arms pumping out or just not reading the sequence right but I was finally spat off. It took me three attempts to work out the finally bouldery style sequence to make it up and congratulate Kym:
If that was the only route we did that day I would have been chuffed, Kym was ear to ear smiling. His lack of sleep and nervousness of the epic lead that lay ahead was all behind him and he was in a deservedly elated mood. He called the route Critical Mass and we reckon grade 22 is fair, but it was also pretty damned sustained and very tricky to read. While we may have been content we were not going to waste the time here, so we headed back down and I jumped on Showpony to grab the second ascent of this far more relaxed grade 17 route. The first half is quality slab and finger crack climbing, just my style and I lapped it up. Occasionally I heard Kym below me, reminding me to maybe put some gear in:
As I topped out I noticed Ang was over on the wall we had played on during the last trip. While we had five of us Jon was more here to take images, enjoy the setting and maybe do a self-belay top rope route. He had even brought a pillow in case he fancied a snooze! So while Jon was enjoying himself with these mixed pursuits, Ron had been taking his time to sus out his line and as yet had not led it. This had left Ang twiddling her thumbs a bit so she had headed off to get on rock by herself. As I set myself up to belay Kym I found Ron and Jon at the top having a munch and chilling out. Ron mentioned he was finally ready for action, so asked if Kym or I could belay him up his line after we were done:
The answer was pretty obvious, but before that it was time to allow Kym to enjoy this great 45m route. There is something so rewarding about long lines, with a rope stretcher like this one you can really get into the climbing and situation. Sometimes shorter routes tend to be over way too quickly. It is the joy I get from these long routes that make the long drive all this way, just for a day out, so very worthwhile. That and of course the good company of the south coast crew. Kym floated up the route, which he did the first ascent for a week or two back, not because it was easy but because he was still very much on a high after his epic lead:
As Kym joined us at the top, he and Ron started to discuss the gear on the line Ron was to lead. Kym had spotted and scoped the route, adding a couple of bolts to get it ready for Ron as 50th birthday present. Today was Ron’s first play on the line and as had been attempting the moves and checking the gear he had been nervous about the RPs placements. Not convinced they would hold and worried about the falls. Regardless of all that, he was still keen to head down to lead it. I was pleased about that and as I prepared to rap down to the belay ledge, I looked over at Watson’s Buttress and there was a party of climbers enjoying the amazing weather and rock conditions the day was offering. We wondered if they were the guys that we helped on the way in:
As Kym headed off to check out if Ang wanted to lead something, Ron came down to join me and I could sense his nervousness when he was finally ready to start climbing. I was in another fine position half way up the wall hanging in my harness as Ron, in a jittery state, started and almost slipped a couple of times. The route is a slab that follows a very thin crack that only just takes RPs and makes use of the arête. It has some very delicate moves that require a fair bit of trust in small holds. With nothing but exposure out to your right to encourage you not to fall. I’m pleased to say Ron held it together and following up this route I could see why he was nervous, but it was all there. And yet another great first ascent was established, Foot Fault at grade 20:
Back at the packs it was time to check out what Kym and Ang had got up to, and it seems that Ang had lost her leading mojo so Kym had donned the gear. I found them at the base of a short wall which had four lines, all as yet awaiting a first ascent. Kym had scoped them out and equipped them. Some had a few bolts and they all had lower-offs making for fun 15m lines. Seeing the rope was already up I jumped on the route Kym had just bagged, Thick as Thieves, a pumpy and steep grade 18 hand crack with a surprising number of hidden holds making for a great variety of moves. This was a complete trad lead and while I pulled all the moves, I was certainly starting to feel tired:
Back down and as Ron went up the same line Kym suggested, or should I say was motivating me to don the gear and have a crack at the line to the right. I was pretty weary and also a little wary, crack climbing is not my forte and I knew that the climbs got harder as you went right. Added to that I was getting tired, but Kym convinced me it would be a good thing. Beside the start had three bolts before it got into the crack and trad, it’d be great! I racked up placing gear on my hardness not paying any attention to what I had until he told me I had plenty and didn’t need any more. It started OK, and I got established in the cracks but I struggled to get any good jams, making it hard to get in good positions to place gear:
While I got up the route, I won’t say it was in good style. It was deceptive and didn’t climb at all how I expected it to. Awkward stances and with a draining steepness to it, I was spanked needing to rest several times before getting to the top. After all those long routes, this 15m route certainly didn’t feel short and it kept me going the whole way. It will however have to wait for a first ascent, but I think it is fair to say it is a solid grade 20. Ron and Ang were happy, they had been beaten by this one just a few weeks back, so were pleased to see that I too found it equally challenging. I took solace in both of them, with their far greater jamming experience, saying they to struggled to find any decent jams:
The three racks had been mixed and matched and as we sorted it out and packed our bags, we realised Jon was nowhere to be seen. He had snuck off to do a bit top rope soloing, so we waited until he returned before we started to make the thankfully short walk back to the car. On the drive out there were no rescues required and after repeating the morning sequence in reverse we found ourselves back at Kym’s. My intention was to get home that day so after a brief chat and with a cuppa ready to take I hit the road. I got home just before nine and again was lucky not to have any close encounters with roos or emus. A huge thank you to Kym and the boys for allowing me to tag along on their adventures. I’m very much looking forward to the next trip down, which hopefully won’t be too far off:
With two weeks off from work, a hot week leading up to Christmas and encouraged not only by the conditions down at Moses Rocks where I climbed yesterday, but also at our local beach that I had checked out on my return from the climb, I decided it was time to break the ice (or more truthfully the surface) and go for a dip. The tide is very low at the moment and the sandy beach seemed to be so much wider that it has been the few times I ventured down here during winter and spring, when I accompanied Lisa as she took the dogs out for a walk:
Being the first dip I decided on the local beach, allowing me to walk down. The beach was empty bar two cars and a boat trailer. A small vessel was traversing close to the coast and a string of white buoys lay in its trail, no doubt they were hoping to lure a few cray into their pots. I left them to it making a mental note that I should head to one or more of their pots as I got ready to get out of the water to see if they had caught anything. But for now I walked in the opposite direction to my usual point of entry. Dipping my feet in the water as I went it felt warmer than I had expected:
While the water felt warm for my feet, the first plunge felt a little cool. Once under and with the need to swim out a little way before I got over the weed and reef, I was soon feeling comfortable. On the shoreline I had spotted a few stingers, and my heart had sunk a little. But they were hugging the shallow shoreline and I didn’t encounter anymore until I was on my way out and literally a feet away from the shore. The territory felt familiar and it was a welcome sight as were the faces that popped up to check me out. This included the expected Banded Sweeps and various Wrasses, but even a solitary McCulloch’s Scalyfin (above):
I wasn’t going out with any great expectations, after last year’s snorkelling further north past the Capel River mouth I thought today would feel a little bland. But I was pleased to be mistaken, several school of Australian Herring (Tommy Ruff) spotted me and circled me for a while before heading on their way, and there was a also a small school of Western Striped Trumpeters (above), which seemed content with me swimming alongside them for quite a while. Being a low, low tide I ventured out a bit further than I sometimes might and finally spotted some long white antenna:
The above is not the best image being a little blurry, but you only get one shot before these guys scurry back under the rock shelf. Unfortunately this was my one and only shot, as I didn’t find any more. While I have mentioned above how some people were putting out their cray pots, I have just read that this is in fact an incorrect name. Crayfish are a freshwater crustacean, while the marine creature we hear so much about at this time of year, due to their abundance relatively close to shore, both in the water and on the plate is the Western Rock Lobster:
Now is the season when the fishers are out collecting their bounty of Western Rock Lobsters, maybe that is why I wasn’t lucky enough to see another one. I did however see plenty of other treasures including a squid, which I knew if I made any moves to follow would sprint off. So I let is cruise past me and as it slowly disappeared I diverted my eyes back to the sea bed. Here I found Sea Squirts, Sand Gobblers (most likely the Herrmann’s Sea Cucumber variety) and a wide variety of sea stars, including the one above which I believe is a Cushion Sea Star. The mosaic pattern on it that merges in with the limestone rock is pretty stunning:
There were also plenty of sea urchins to be found and the one above almost escaped my attention. The thick chucky spines of the this Pencil Sea Urchin were coated in the same filaments covering the reef, making it near impossible to see. But I’m not sure if this is the Western Slate-Pencil Urchin, which I usually find. The main body does not have that familiar deep red but seemed more brown in colour, and all my trusty books and sites have not helped me find out if it is a different sort or not. As I was watching all these creatures, I spotted a pair eyes watching me as they were bobbing from side to side:
The Purple Sea Urchin next to this Octopus might give you an idea of scale. It was not very big, but bigger than the unlucky one I spotted at Moses Rocks that the crabs were feasting on. I don’t actually think the one from yesterday is same species as this one. My guess is this is an Octopus Tetricus, but from what I have read it is only found in New Zealand and Eastern Australia. So this must be the closely related species that is stated as being found in Western Australia, but I can’t find a name for it. Regardless of that I do like the common name of the Octopus Tetricus , being the Gloomy Octopus due to its droopy and sad looking eyes:
I was starting to cool off by now, and as I popped my head up I saw that the craypots or more correctly called lobster pots had all be taken out and the boat was being loaded on the trailer. My chances of finding one of the pots and getting an image or two was gone, along with any lobsters that had been unfortunate enough to have been lured into the pots. It was time to head back to shore and my last find in the weed was this Western Smooth Boxfish (above), acting like a vacuum cleaner and sucking off the sediments covering the leaves of the sea grass. I didn’t disturb this one and instead drifted above towards the sand bay:
Rather than head straight to shore I swam sideways over the rippled sand, back towards the car access track which I use to get onto the beach. This area provides a seabed landscape that is contrasting to the rocky reef and weedy areas over which I had spent most of my time today. You also never know what you might find in these more open waters and today it certainly paid off when I stumbled across this beautiful Southern Fiddler Ray, which was very close to the maximum size you might find at just over a meter long. It had been a magical first snorkel, but after 45min I was getting cold so as this fella headed back out to sea I headed back in to shore:
It seems like it has been a while since I have been back to the crag that always feels like an old friend to me. So with the help of Jaime that was rectified today. It’s a traditional style place with mostly lower to mid-grade routes, but despite the lower grades it seems to strike fear into quite a few people I know. As such I was interested to see how Jaime went here. First impressions were good and like me she really liked the situation with the ocean so close and a great outlook from this small rocky headland:
We began the day on the main area, Hand’s Up Wall. Gothic Streak was Jaime’s first taste of the roundness of Moses that puts many people off the area. While it initially came as a bit of a shock, she soon figured out how to work with the different formations and made short work of this route. I have probably said it before, but this line was the first route I climbed in Western Australia. Back then fresh and strong from Alice Springs I soloed it, but today I made use of the available gear of which, despite some people’s views of many of the climbs here, there is enough of:
Before we had started climbing and as we walked in, I showed Jaime a few of the areas that offer a surprising diversity of climbing at Moses. I’d already checked before and knew it was going to be a low swell and very low tide, raising my hopes of getting into the Zawn. But it all depended on the condition of the rock and whether Jaime was OK with it. As the images show she was up for it, and after just one route on Hand’s Up Wall we were scrambling down into the Zawn to get even closer to the ocean:
I was super happy that she liked the feeling of being so close to the water and the atmosphere the Zawn provides, which is quite unique to nearly all of the other spots in the South West. We started on Wetting Thy Pants and then below on Freddy’s Bidet, before moving onto Broken Surf. There is nothing too hard in this area, but the conditions are often a bit more damp, with either seepage coming down from above or salt spray coming up from below. Today however the rock was in perfect condition, making each route feel like its listed grade. Despite a few holds coming away Jaime still wasn’t put off this area and we carried on:
While we were lucky with the conditions today, we did come across a baby octopus that was not so lucky. I thought it was alive as it slithered into a crevice, looking like it was trying to hide from me as I approached. It was in fact being dragged down by several crabs who had a secure hold of its tentacles, and were showing no signs of letting go. I was a little surprised as I always viewed the octopus to be the predator and the crabs to be one of their prey, but I guess this one had not had the chance to get big enough before that was the case:
We left nature to its course, but I have to admit that before we did I took a while to see if there was any life in the octopus and it seemed not. So as the crabs to continue their feast we tackled the steeper southern wall of the Zawn, starting on Frontpage. One of my creations from nine years back that was a little more feisty than I recalled, probably because I opted to avoid the obvious crack and climb the blank walls in-between spaced horizontal breaks. While Jaime was really enjoying this place, she opted not to follow my lead and made use of the cracks:
Next up was the classic and first route put up in the Zawn, A Wet Dream on Elm Street. This line was established in 1989, five years after the namesake film was released. It’s a route that often makes me nervous due to holds sloping the wrong way, being one of the steepest lines here and often been a tad damp. While I found a couple of drying puddles of sea water on a ledge, the usually seeping lower crack was close to fully dry and the upper wall was in perfect condition, in fact probably the best I have ever climbed it in:
Jaime paid particular attention to the start of this route claiming, as I got above it, that she might struggle due to stronger climbing techniques I had employed. In my usual casual manner I brushed this aside and mutter something along the lines of she’ll be fine and figure out a different way. I relished every hold and position on this the route and once on top, as I had for the previous climb, wandered to the back wall to ensure I got into a good position for some images:
Despite my antics to get the best angles Jaime wasn’t put off and even seemed to cruise up the initial crack with relative ease. The angle for the images didn’t quite work, due to the shadow the sun was still making on this wall and the bright background, but it did allow me to have a great view. It also allowed me to test Jaime’s acceptance of such antics, and she seemed fine with it. We pondered what to do next and soon found ourselves back in the Zawn at the bottom of Freddy Kruger’s Claw. It was almost good enough to jump on The Beach, a climb I’ve only ever seen in condition once, but for today it was now time to leave the mighty Zawn:
I can’t recall hitting so many routes in the Zawn in one day before, but we were not done just yet. The classic of Moses Rocks beckoned and as such we finished off on Wheely Things, a fitting end to a very cool session at my old friend Moses Rocks. The ocean was looking stunning and very inviting but it was time to walk out. There was talk of needing to bring snorkel gear next time something I have been thinking of doing this summer on my climbing trips, so maybe next time and hopefully we might get to see a live octopus:
Eight weeks back, while everyone was out, a $30 hose burst under a sink in our house. The water damage resulted in having to rip out 60% of the flooring in the house. So began an unplanned complete house re-flooring and painting project, which required us to pack up the entire house and live in an empty shell. With Christmas looming tradies were incredibly hard to come by, being mostly fully booked up due to the many COVID 19 stimulus packages on offer. As a result it is fair to say that Lisa, Elseya and I have felt very much under pressure, but the end is in sight and we should have a home back in time for Christmas. Despite all this going on we know that mental health is important so we still take out the time to do the fun stuff, which of course for me is climbing:
Someone else who really likes climbing but is also feeling under pressure is Howsie. This is however a self-inflicted challenge that I have frequently mentioned. As the end of 2020 looms menacingly close there are still quite a few grade 20s that he has not yet managed to lead clean and the pressure is really on to bag each climb on each trip, not having the time to dilly dally about. A while back I had offered a lending hand with a bit of a difference, and today that was taken up as we headed out dark and early. The temperature as I left home was an appropriate 20 degrees. It has been a strange week and the days have hit the high thirties, despite forecasts not indicating it would happen, so it was anybody’s guess how hot it would get today:
In addition to a possible scorcher of a day, another reason for such an early start was that today would be a bit of a road trip to the furthest two crags, from where we live, in the South West. Plus the first one included a brisk 30min walk in, so despite only having three climbs to tackle it was that we started our walk into Bobs Hollow at 4:45am. It was a strange morning, clouds hung over the ocean like a mist obscuring the horizon from view. It was almost eerie, but the lack of sun and cool slightly damp breeze made it a very pleasant hike in. Ash had hinted that he and his mate Glen would be heading here too and were aiming for an early start, but on arrival we were greeted to an empty crag:
While we only had three routes on our hit list today, it would not have been wise to jump straight onto a grade 20 cold, so we began with the relatively mild Lovers Nuts. While we both managed a clean ascent of this line, not only did moisture hang heavy in the air but the rock was sweating and that was an ominous sign. Not put off, next up was Grade 20 no.1 Shaved Cat, but access to the rock was blocked by a Garden Orb Weaver spider and not wanting to damage it’s web Howsie took an alternative to start the route. This was not as easy and I could see Howsie struggling to read and commit to the moves:
From the start I could his body language did not bode well, he was climbing awkwardly, hanging on every hold tightly and his body looked to be in tension the whole time. The last time we came here he failed to get past the lower flake, and while he got past this today he then faltered for way too long at the crux traverse. Furthermore he seemed to forget how to climb with arms and legs stuck out at strange angles, almost climbing with his body horizontally across the rock. It was almost like he was on a medieval stretching rack being pulled to the maximum extent his body would allow and then a bit more. Needless to say he fell, and as he sat in his harness he hung his head in what looked like deflated defeat:
Rather than allowing him to give up I used a trick that Mark had taught me on our trip to Kalbarri, where we would often start the day on a 23 or 24 that was at the time my upper limit. Not that I have ever used it since. But today seemed the right time and I got Howsie to focus, sort out the sequence for the next few moves, clip the bolt and then hang. I continued to give directions and bolt by bolt he got past the crux and next steep section. After this the route and angle of the rick eases, so it was not till then I lowered him down. I was staring to become more dogmatic in belaying him knowing what he wanted to achieve, but also needing to have a bit of empathy for how he was feeling:
So we had a bit of a chat about things and he admitted to having felt on edge starting the route, and discussion started about the sense of his 2020 challenge. A key aspect being how it changed his mind set when climbing, due to the pressure of having to bag the route and only having one year to complete the challenge. While this was fine early on, but as the year progressed this meant he was less and less relaxed as he approached each grade 20 climb. This was clearly evident, so we talked about forgetting the challenge and enjoying the route for what it was. With continual directions and encouragement I’m very happy to say that Howsie did climb it much more smoothly and got a clean lead:
As I followed up this very fine route, there were a few things I noticed, firstly the blood trail that he had left. He had been so focused on the upper sharp section that he hadn’t noticed he had scuffed his knee and was leaving the trail. Secondly once on top I saw a car parked at the end of the hideous 4WD track, so we wondered if Ash had arrived. Thirdly and the best find being a baby Carpet Python. This was out on the rock as Howsie attempted his first lead, and he later claimed this had partly been partially responsible for distracting him and making him fail on his first attempt (yeah sure). When I went up it the python had receded to a small hollow, in what looked to be a precarious purchase on mostly smooth overhanging limestone. It’s incredible to think how it even got there:
When we moved onto the northern section of the crag, but we did not meet Ash. A couple from Perth who had walked in on the beach, were instead there getting ready to climb. The mystery of who had driven in was as yet unsolved, but Howsie’s mind was more focused on Grade 20 no.2 Thyeses Feast. On The Crag this route gets a grade of 19, heaping even more weight on Howsie’s mind as he rallied his thought and set off. The start is cruisy and this climb could be described as a boulder problem, with only the last say 5m being tricky plus very steep. He got all the way to the hold from where you can clip the final anchors and was looking smooth and confident the whole way; but then started to whimper, didn’t use his feet and his hands pealed out of the hold:
I belayed while watching the bull or inch ants. Not because I’m worried about being bitten by them, as I don’t seem to get the same reaction that many people do, but purely because they are fascinating and fearless insects. Above me Howsie was in that familiar position, hanging in the rope with his head drooped down feeling the pressure of his challenge. Once more instead of feeling the joy of being on rock, his mind was pushing him down into deep dark places that are not conducive to climbing. He tried several times but failed on each less and less looking graceful attempt, so eventually he came down and offered me the rope. He watched me with interests as I worked the top moves. The rock was wet but the holds are big so it wasn’t too bad, um 19 or 20 I’m not sure:
Back down Howsie was hinting at having a go on top rope, but I pulled the rope expecting him to now lead it clean as he looked at me a hint of despair. It was about then that Ash finally arrived, for one reason or another the early start had got progressively later. He watched for a while and remarked at my mercenary and unforgiven attitude to Howsie as he repeated his previous performance, again unable to get the final anchors. As I led the route a second time Ash wandered off and you might just about be able to make him out in the image below as he is leading the very fine Escalade De Rasoir. Meanwhile, Howsie was not even up for seconding this damn route so I cleaned it. As more and more and more climbers rolled in we walked out:
We walked fast as the sun came and went, and back at the car all hot and sweaty the air conditioner was very welcome. It was however only 24 degrees but the humidity felt like it was up, so as we drove out we discussed whether it was even worth driving down to Cosy Corner to attempt Grade 20 no.3 Petropunster. With the cool climate in the car making us feel refreshed we decided to at least go and have a look. We chatted about the challenge and how it was changing these trips, there was an expectation of success and with that I was becoming less and less sympathetic, as witness and noticed by Ash, and Howsie was focusing less and less on enjoyment but more on needing to perform. So was it all worth it, we never answered that question and as we walked in there was a cool breeze and the sun was again hiding behind the clouds, so decision made we were going down:
The only other time I have climbed this route was with Dan five years back, and I am not aware of anyone else who has attempted it. Dan was fresh back from a climbing trip in Turkey and feeling strong. But the route shut him down and he sent me up instead. My only memory being that it was hard and felt very, very goey. Put up in 1992 it was originally graded 19 but I put in the current guide as 20. I’m not sure but it may be harder, and having checked with Dan he is also undecided but clearly remembers the route. As Howsie approached the crux sequence he tried and tried but it was just too much. I had thoughts of being stuck on the belay ledge for an hour or two but then he started to pull on the gear to get past the parts causing him the most grief. I followed up having to work hard to get the gear he had fallen on out, the crack was also seeping and I was knackered. As such I too hung on the rope, pleased to finally get to the top and expecting Howsie to be in a downtrodden mood:
Instead he was smiling away and happy as. He explained how he had reflected on our discussion and had put the pressures of the challenge aside, and instead climbed for fun. As such he really enjoyed the experience and wasn’t stressed about not having led it clean. We walked out jumped and in the car, and as drove inland the clouds cleared the temperature hit the thirties we had timed it well. We again pondered the 2020, and soon to start 2021 challenge, and concluded it was not worth it. Expecting to lead routes nearing the top of your grade every time head out especially when you have limited time to get out, as Howsie does, was just too much to ask. Instead we agreed that a better way to tackle it, as Howsie still likes the idea of pushing himself, was to set a challenge of attempting every grade 20 in 2020. This now only leaves one to hit, Ain’t No Slouch, which we can hopefully squeeze in between Christmas and New Year’s, and also takes the pressure off for 2021:
The interested crew this week steadily grew as the week progressed, and the band of two that I was expecting to be out swelled to six. So it was that on this overcast morning, soon after 6, three ropes were up. Rongy, Jaime and Jake wandered off to find Verbosity while Alan was keen to jump on Sirius, while Mark solo’d up Hope. This may have you puzzled so let me explain that Mark has just started to do a bit of top rope soloing and was keen to have our opinion on his setup, which is why he went solo for his first climb:
If you can cast your mind back to a few weeks ago there was mention of Verbosity, a climb that strikes fear into the heart of many. In fact other than people I have pointed towards it I have never seen anyone else climb it, and only a small selection of those I encourage to try it ever go back for a second taste. Like me, those that do, highly rate it and we can now add Jaime to that list. Maybe also Jake, but in truth I can’t recall what he thought of this route that also happened to be his first taste of Wilyabrup. I can’t say that I was very motivated to start with, and Alan was equally low on energy so while we made our way up Sirius neither of us were really into it:
It felt like the motivation levels were not as high as normal, in that after the first routes were done and dusted people were milling about doing a lot of chatting and not much climbing to start with. The standing about was prolonged when we got back to base camp when Jaime cracked open the Anzac biscuits. We were, however, here to climb so I wandered off to get going. Seeing she had loved Verbosity so much I was hoping to find another crack climb that Jaime could have a bash at squeezing into. Twenty Questions while fun didn’t quite hit the mark and it was even remarked that it “was a bit on the easy side”:
While I was leading and setting up the top rope for the others to have a go at Twenty Questions, Jake had his first taste of leading at Wilyabrup. He’d popped round to mine on Wednesday to join in our weekly boulder night, and had smashed it. As such both Rongy and I were keen to see how he went outdoors, and the answer was clear. He seemed to float walk up Fishing with Dynamite, with an ear to ear smile on his face. I wandered past just as Rongy was heading up so managed to sneak in an extra climb, as I also followed up. Starting to climb before Rongy had topped out as the rope wasn’t quite long enough:
Coming back down, and after finding out that Twenty Questions may have been a little too easy, I thought they might instead like Left-hand Crack. This would bump it up several grades and was a crack climbing so still stuck with the same style. It is the first time in months that I have seen this route dry, and despite it being a southerly wind, which brought a risk of salt spray coming in, you couldn’t ask for better conditions. It’s one of those routes that is engaging from start to finish and demands good technique, without technique it is easy to make a complete mess of it:
In view that the conditions were so good, Rongy decided he would try one of his projects. The mid-section of Stormbringer goes up a steep wall via a long sequence of friction holds, some of which are really not that positive. It’s a style that definitely suits Rongy with his fingertips that never sweat, and I think he was in part also keen to see how it felt in comparison to the last route we climbed on our trip down south, Under Cover. That entire route was similar to the mid-section of this one and it was also the same grade, and the result was that while a little different they were definitely comparable:
You may have noticed that I seemed to have lost control of my camera. Jaime asked if she could take an image or two and I didn’t see it again until we were walking out. So from here on in you will get visuals of her perspective of the morning, and she unashamedly made sure she got some butt shots! That said this image does provide a good view of the first crux of the route Rongy was on, which is steep and depending on how you climb it powerful. He climbed it the powerful way and almost came undone at the very start because of it:
I’m pleased to say that Rongy finally got the route clean, and this time he had a well-deserved ear to ear smile. It seemed that Left-hand Crack was also a winner, both Jaime and Alan lapped, both climbing it with good technique and enjoying it. Alan confessed that this used to be his warmup climb, which is pretty impressive, and he’ll definitely need to start to build up his stamina and confidence to get back to where he was back then. Mark didn’t follow up as he had to depart but he was keen to try it next time, and I’m hoping we can convince him to join us on our morning escapades a few more times:
As Jake followed Rongy I had decided that I too would have another bash at this line. While the mid-section was on my mind, even the start was making me nervous so I was quizzing the people who had watched Rongy how he did it, so I could be ready for it. You might ask why I hadn’t watched Jake, well he pulled out the power on the start and did it in a different and very direct way. I knew I couldn’t do it that way. Jake almost managed a clean ascent, slipping off the last few smear holds in the mid-section:
When I followed up I found a sequence for the bottom that was nowhere near as powerful, but just as effective. It also meant that I was pretty relaxed at the start of the mid-section. Sadly somehow I slipped of the very first friction holds, and ended up having to repeat the route almost from the start. This time I got through the smeary section clean, which is a first for me. Wandering back down Jake appeared at the top of Left-hand Crack, which I also did repeat lap on to clean the gear. It was then time to move back to Steel Wall for Jake’s next lead:
While I was keen to get Jaime and Alan up another route, I was also keen to watch Jake and in truth follow him up. It is a rare occurrence for me to kick back at the crag, but today it happened. The drive to keep going and going just wasn’t there, so like Lisa would I found a comfy rock armchair and lay back. Alan was still not feeling it so was equally happy to relax. Meanwhile Jaime continued on her quest to get the perfect rear end image, as Jake cruised up his second lead on Pascal’s Route:
He was again impressed with the rock and route quality, and I think it is fair to say he thoroughly enjoyed his first taste of Wilyabrup rock. I went up second followed up Rongy, and it is only as I went through the images that I realised what theatrical tricks were going on below Jake and I. Despite, no doubt, using up a bit of juice on this stunt he managed to get up the rest of the route without a slip. In truth both Rongy and I should be able to manage most routes up to this grade, as we have climbed them a fair few times and knowing what lies ahead makes it a fair but easier:
I was still keen to get one more route in, and had considered a few options, aiming for the more traditional style climbing. Not just face climbing but ones that required a bit of three dimensional thinking. So I landed on Rhys’s Rapid Retreat. I’m of the opinion that you should end a climbing trip on a good note, that hadn’t happened last time with Jaime when we finished on Golden Buttress. So I was a little nervous that I might have made that same mistake this time, as Rongy was of the thinking that it may have been a little tough for her:
I needn’t have worried, she cruised up it and even better really enjoyed and even relished the varied climbing that it offered. When she got up explaining how she had slowed down and thought about the moves before racing in to them. Also, when pulling the gear out she thought about how I would not have put the gear in unless I was in a comfy position, so worked out the best stance first. It seems that the lessons from the previous trip had stuck or was it, as I subtle suggested later, the negative reinforcement of my post on that previous trip:
Whichever it was it certainly paid off big time, and there was even talk of repeating Golden Buttress to give it a second chance. Alan was not inclined to follow-up after us, instead content to have a chat with the other climbers that had been steadily rolling in as the morning wore on and taking in the pleasant views. Slowly on patches of blue sky crept in-between the clouds that had greeted us on arrival. As Jaime and I wandered down we found Rongy just starting up Fat Chance, which Jake had led. Not one to miss out I got him to take up my rope so I could also follow up with all my gear from the last route still jangling about off my harness:
Despite having started slow and also having kicked back for a while I had somehow managed to rack up ten pitches, so was pretty content. It was by now finally time to wrap up yet another successful morning. Jake had been introduced to Wilyabrup, Rongy had bagged his project, Mark’s top rope set up passed the test, Jaime had redeemed herself. As for Alan well he had managed a chilled morning out, something he was in need of. Jake and I drove out leaving Alan, Rongy and Jaime to discuss stage two of their Saturday… where to head for a mountain bike ride:
Getting up at 3:30am to go to my closest crag reminded me of 2016. Howsie and I worked in the same building, different organisations but cohoused, and we hit upon the idea of having a before work climb once a week. After all, Welly Dam was a mere half hour drive from the office so we could easily pack in 6 to 8 climbs and get back for a 8-9am start at work, depending on the season. I can’t recall many weeks we didn’t manage a weekday climb and we were not put off by the elements, climbing in the rain, freezing temperatures and during winter by head torch:
The great thing about heading out early is you get to see the world wake up, and today we were rewarded with one of the best sunrises I can recall. All the way from Howsie’s house, until we rolled into the carpark, the sky spectacularly changed its hues. As we rolled past the reservoir it was still pretty special, but by the time we hit the rock the light show was over. From then on we were given a beautiful audible show, as the Red Tailed Black Cockatoos were ever present often flying directly overhead and perching in the trees round the quarry. It is rare for us not to see or hear them at least once on a trip here, but today they were present the whole time:
Armed with the trusty crate and a cuppa each we started on Pocket Knife, with Howsie getting the ball rolling. Our intention was to get a couple of warm up climbs in, before the main event. It felt like we hadn’t climbed here for ages and looking through the image library my last trip here was on the 29 August, again with Howsie. So bang on three months, which is a long time between visits for me to this place. My first lead today was BBQ and we both remarked that the routes felt tough. The memory of just how energy sapping climbing at Welly Dam was didn’t take long to come back to us; each hold and move seemed to stretch every muscle, ligament and tendon:
There were a few reasons for coming here today. Firstly, it’s an easy trip out and Howsie had a limited window of opportunity to get out; secondly, we love it the surrounds are beautiful and the climbing is quality; and thirdly, Howsie had one more grade 20 to tick off here. We attempted that route during our visit in August, but it was dripping wet and as the image below shows when it is wet here this is one of the lines that water will drain down from the top of the crag. Needless to say that today, with dry rock and remnants of the endurance built up during our recent south coast trip, Howsie cruised up it:
Mission accomplished, and we still had time to play. Howsie wasn’t expected back until 9am, so foolishly started to eye up Attack of the March Flies. The good news is that there were no March Flies today; the bad news being that I wasn’t up to the route. The midway crux had me beat and I was hanging on the rope. Further up the climb, having opted for the harder right-hand variant, I gingerly tried to clip the last bolt several times. Each time it seemed tantalisingly out of reach, and I was not able to commit to using a shockingly small smear for a foot on handholds sloping the wrong way. As such I found myself down climbing the tricky moves before finishing up the easier left-hand variant, close to pumping out and coming off… again:
Howsie managed a clean ascent up the right-hand variant, and after coming down started to look for a less steep and more balancy route for his last lead. The obvious choice being a Walk in Central Park, which no longer sports Steve’s spider web chains. This means it is one of the few routes here that you have to top out on. Earlier today Howsie had remarked how, during our trip down south, he had started to trust even the smallest footholds. This improved his footwork and it was needed on this route. Another line that seemingly offers plenty of holds, but in the mid-section they are sloping awkwardly and never feel overly positive:
We had another top morning at Welly Dam with me finishing the proceedings by leading the aptly named Rock Therapy. Steep jugging followed by a fingery and delicate finale. After the final rap we both agreed we need to get to Welly Dam more often, it’s a place to get strong. But before we can do that Howsie has unfinished, grade 20, business at several other crags in the South West. In theory he needs to send these outstanding routes before the end of 2020, a timeline that I thought was also being applied to the mural being painted on the dam wall. I wonder if either will completed in time, as the end of the year rapidly approaches us:
Fresh from my week long trip down south I was busting to hit the local crags, and in response to my call out Glen, Jamie and Ash all stuck their hands up for a bit of adventure. I knew immediately it wouldn’t be a trip of bagging lot so routes, nor anything necessarily hard. But as those that have climbed with me will know, it isn’t about the grades but the whole experience and just getting out there. Those same people would also say that I have a tendency to want to squeeze in route after route, so you may have thought that a prospect of a limited number of climbs may weigh on my mind:
However, it is all about setting your goals based on the situation and knowing what is realistic to expect. Glen who was first to say “yes please” has not done much climbing and very, very little leading since his dramatic self-rescue after breaking his foot on lead at Cosy Corner in January 2019. He was keen to get a lead or two in today to get back on the horse, aiming for a few easy lines. Jamie has yet to lead anything, being only her second time out with us and not having had a great deal of climbing experience. Even I wouldn’t have been mean enough to push her into leading anything… yet:
Then there is Ash who has had some less than pleasant belayer experiences, while on lead, many years back. This has resulted him in becoming a ground dwelling pebble pincher. But today he was keen to play with the ropes, with a goal to get back into it. So with this mottle crew of three, well two to start with as Ash turned up late due to his alarm clock not being loud enough or was it his hearing having been dulled from the biggish night he had reputedly had, we commenced the morning. We started gently, on Glory:
I picked it as I felt it would put Jamie a bit out of her comfort zone, to make her slow down and think about technique. It worked and while the roof didn’t really present too many problems, I could hear her grumble just a bit as she got over it. Glen managed no problem but confessed, as his head popped up, that he now realised just how climbing unfit he had become. This was not only due to the time off from the broken foot, but also the recent knee operation. Ash arrived too late to partake in the splendours of Glory. However, when we got back down we got two lines running:
Glen went off to lead First Climb, above. Any aptly named route considering it is his first lead climb in a very long time. Meanwhile I had plans to get Ash to jump on the pointy end, so I romped up the first pitch of Sirius. This would allow me to see how his head was going, as being a traverse the person coming up second is at risk of taking just as much of a fall as the leader. Before we started he was hinting at nervousness and being unsure about the prospect. Then as he followed me I could hear statements about his arms pumping out, while his face showed complete and intense concentration:
Needless to say, decision made. It would take a bit more seconding before he would feel comfortable back on the high rocks on lead. As such I offered to take the second pitch, which was always intended to be the classy Unclaimed. A delightful steep face climb up immaculate rock, and fully bolted. Ash did well to hold it together belaying half way up the crag and trusting the rope work once more. On second he managed the climb and it looked like he even enjoyed himself, but again the very focused look of concentration hammered home that more time on rock was needed before he was read to take on the floppy end:
A key difference between pebble pinching and lead climbing, being the required stamina. Ash is a strong climber and he has pulled off some impressive problems on my boulder wall, ones I can’t. Short powerful bursts are the trait of a boulderer, but leading climbing requires more moves and as such more time on rock, which is made even longer by having to hang about to find and place gear. Add to that the need to rid himself of the demons from past experiences and it is easy to see why it would take Ash a bit longer to get back into it. As we finished Jaime had also topped out, after following Glen up, and they came over:
I suggested that Glen would be a fool to have a bash at the steeper line with his recovering knee, and he agreed. The old Glen would have brushed that fact aside, gone for it and then regretted it. Resulting in setting his recovery back. But this is the new slightly more sensible Glen. Jamie however had no choice and I lowered her down so she could test herself, and she did remarkably well. Pulling through all the thin moves low down with relative ease, but then misreading the route and rushing into a position where she closed herself in, pumped out and fell:
Still only one slip on the whole route and hopefully a lesson learnt, to slow down and take her time. Back down on the deck Glen was keen for more, I heard that he was not at all comfortable on his first lead and had scared his way up First Climb. But in good Glen tradition his gear was bomber, so he was at least safe. This time he plumped for Dunlop Special Alternate Start, with Ash holding his rope. Jamie and I walked between two routes, Verbosity and Golden Buttress. She struggled to decide which one she would like to follow up, but ended up going with Golden Buttress:
Her thinking being that Verbosity was more her style and she would love and romp up it. Needless to say I know that there are climbers out there for which this climb strikes fear into their hearts, despite them being able to climb at a much higher grade. So it will be interesting to see whether, when she does climb it if, she will still hold that view. I didn’t mind either route I love them equally, as they both offer great traditional three dimensional style climbing. As I slowly pulled the rope from above all could hear was Jaime grumbling down below, and eventually I saw her swing round the rib into open space. A look of determination on her face:
It transpired that the traverse at the start had unnerved her, and she had subsequently over gripped the whole way and pumped herself out. Rather than take her time, rest up and shake out the pump; she had doggedly climbed on until her arms were all jelly like. It seems that the lesson that should have been learnt on the last route on Steel Wall had not fully sunk in. As she flailed up the penultimate section, up the undercut arête with nothing below her but air, I looked across and Ash was casually finishing up while Glen was basking in the sun:
They packed up and wandered over to meet us and then continued to sit and look out to sea soaking up the sun, which was starting to get a bite to it. Jaime pleaded below for a bit of help working up the last few moves, but it wasn’t forth coming. No tight rope was yielded and it would only come if she fell, so she had to dig deep and whimpered up the final few moves with a bit of assistance with me pointing out where the best hand and foot holds were, and how best to use them. Finally she almost belly flopped over the edge with limp arms unable, or unprepared, to respond to any command her brain sent them:
There was a deadline of leaving the crag at 11am today, in order to get Glen back in time for work. He said he had really enjoyed the second lead but was done for the day. His knee was telling him to wrap up, and sensible Glen responded appropriately. It looked like Ash had also gone as hard as he wanted to today, and Jaime wasn’t sounding too keen for any more either. Decision made and we wandered back down to pack up, the place was by now humming with top ropes everywhere including Inner Space Wall, Fat Chance Area, One for the Road Area and Steel Wall. There were no big groups, just lots and lots of climbers… nearly all top roping:
On our walk back to the bags Jaime stopped us and pointed out a Racehorse Monitor, which was lazing just off the track. As we approached it we have expected it to bolt out of the start gate and race off into the undergrowth, but it instead lazily sauntered off into the bush. Only just far enough so it’s head was hidden, so we walked past soft footed to try not to disturb it any further. With packs on our backs it was time to head out, but Glen was going sensibly slowly and we had to wait form him atop the crag. This did however give us a chance to watch the only other person lead climbing, as they ascended Acid Didj. Henry made short work of this impressive line, with top ropes draping down on either side of him:
In March 2008 Andrew, Howsie, Rongy And I set off for a weeklong trip to the South Coast. It was for them the first long climbing trip, and while it does not come up in regular conversation it is something that stuck in their minds. I discovered just how much that trip meant to them when COVID19 hit and while stuck at home I started to write up about the local climbers here in the South West and they were given an equal opportunity to write about me. All three of them had found memories of that trip, and so in May 2020 I hatched a plan and suggested a South Coast Revisited trip:
Last time we went in March and were hit with blistering 40 plus degree days. It didn’t put us off and we cranked on. In fact we were oblivious to it, until we checked the weather later, thinking that we were maybe not quite as climbing fit as we thought. This time we picked November, aiming for a spring time and working it amongst the many family commitments we all have now. Being a weeklong trip this will be a long post, with tales of rock adventures, the locations and orchids but mostly rock. We set off on Saturday 7th November, and I left home at a very reasonable time of 7:30am:
With a full week of climbing ahead of us we were in no rush, in fact with all this time to climb it offered the chance to ease into it and slow down. Most times we get out we have a short window, usually a morning. We get out and smash out the routes. Rongy is probably the strongest climber and keen to push himself, Howsie is up there and highly motivated whilst Andrew would admit he is not very climbing fit. This time we had a game plan of where we would go but not necessarily what we would climb. It was a case of take one day, or more precisely one climb, at a time:
Some effort was put into considering the locations for this trip, it may have been a revisit but we did not intend to repeat the road map exactly. This time we picked different locations to visit, all bar the last location but that was to satisfy Howsie and his 2020 challenge. The crags were all new to at least one of us, and in some cases all four of us. Our first destination was Monkey Rocks, Howsie having been the only person to climb here before. It was a three and half hour drive from Bunbury, after which we stopped for some lunch in Denmark where we also got the climbing packs sorted:
We set off up the short but sharp hike up to the rock at midday. It was already feeling toasty, and the flies were thick but with childlike excitement of knowing what was ahead of us we motored upwards eager to touch rock. Also being the first location, that sense of needing to slow down and take our time slipped to the back of our minds. We did however start sensibly on a couple of easy routes that were gnarly old school trad lines. Depending on how you tackled them they required a bit of awkward jamming, lay-backing, chimneying and of course a bit of grunting:
We then started to hit the bolted lines, that followed the blank areas of the granite dome that sits high in the landscape. From the top there were great views across to the embayment from where the Harding River flows into the ocean. We didn’t hang about on top all that much, still enthused to climb, with bursting energy and desire to cram the routes in. At the top of the dome I did however luck upon a tiny Common Mignonette Orchid in amongst a thicket of grass, a species Lisa and I spotted at Meelup Nature Reserve. With so many images to choose from in this post I will generally only include images of the new species found:
Tickety, tick, tick we marched on and when we thought we were done because we were out of water and tired, we realised it was only half three. So we hit a few more including a relatively new line, below. This one was a stunner and also the hardest of the day coming in at grade 19. Finally, with seven routes under our belt, we felt satisfied and headed back to the car. My intention is not to list every climb, as that would take way too long and in my mind result in a boring read. However, I know some will be keen to know what we did and as such have included a full tick list of the trip at the end of this post:
That night we stopped in Denmark. A feed and beer was had, but only one, as there was no room for woolly heads in the morning. Our intention was to have early starts, that way if we were shattered we could finish early but if we were motived or indeed had an epic, it gave us the opportunity to have a long day out. As such a routine was established. I was up at 5:00, which became 4:30 as the trip wore on, and put the kettle on. Sometimes being organised and having a routine has its benefits, and on a trip like this they were delivered in spades. It resulted us in managing a good breakfast and efficient pack-up all before 6am most days:
An hour after rolling out of Denmark we were in the Porongurup’s, heading to Gibraltar Rock. Another granite dome, but this one has an iconic towering 200m face. One of the things the South Coast has on offer, that the South West doesn’t, are long multi-pitch routes. There is nothing better than long lines, on these you have the privilege of seeing the area from on high and the need to rush disappears as you ease yourself into the landscape and soak up the amazing vistas:
Both Rongy and I had climbed here before, and local knowledge can at times be helpful in knowing what gear to bring and where to go. Only this time we missed the track through the bush, which comes off the main fire break. If we had walked an additional 200m we would have found it. While it was not that bad a hike, today was again going to be warm with a forecast in the high twenties. It was already heating up and we arrived hot and sweaty at the base of the granite monolith:
I mentioned that Andrew was not very climbing fit. He had held up well on day one and today there was a route that we knew he’d really enjoy, which he later indicted was the route of the trip for him. Raven is a relatively recently established well-protected route which is a rarity for Gibraltar Rock, a great consistent grade 14. To boot it also has a bit of variation so it does not feel too repetitively, which some lower grade slab routes can. I did this line almost a year ago to the day with Kym, so if you are keen you can check out more info about it via the link:
Rongy and I, having both been up Raven, were eager to try one of the old routes here called Dockyard Wall. Being an older routes, established in the early 1990’s, there may have been a bolt or two but they tended to be runout and a bit on the nervous side. This place has a reputation and the guidebook states that it is “characterised by fear and loathing”. However, both Rongy and I like exposure and get a weird kick out of being in nervous situations. My head for this stuff has waned since becoming a dad, but the fire is still there and a spark was certainly reignited on this route:
Being springtime it is of course hay fever time, and this year seems to be particularly bad according to many people I know. Andrew was by far the worst affected, but Howsie and I were also feeling it pretty bad. As such another benefit with such long climbs, is that we were high above the landscape and more importantly the vegetation. With a breeze in the air this seemed to assist in reducing the effects pollen, seeds and other pesky things were having on all three of us. We timed things well and all ended up on top at the same time, allowing for a rare group image:
Today unlike our first day, we were slowing down. Being our first full day out, and being so hot we knew we had to pace ourselves and also keep ourselves hydrated with regular sips of water. This allowed more time to explore the area. The top has some patches of vegetation but what drew my attention were all the Scented Sun Orchids. I have seen these before but up here there were hundreds of plants, mostly a pale blue but occasionally there was also a pink variety. Eventually I dragged myself way from the flowers and we started to make our way back down:
In the shade of the trees back at the base of the crag we once more endured the flies, and three hay fever sufferers started to feel the effects of the vegetation. We did however need to fuel up, so out came lunch and we spent a while preparing ourselves for the next climb. Some years back someone had come here and established a bunch of new routes, but the bolting technique was heavily criticized and was considered by most as dangerous. Some of these bolts had been replaced but we were not sure which ones so we took a punt:
Howsie and Andrew headed for more slabbing up a two pitch line called Painters and Dockers, being a more reasonable grade for Andrew. While Rongy and I headed to Dinosaur Jnr, the first part being an old school route, but then it deviated up the steeper part of the wall having made use of bolts to make it protectable. So in a way it was a mix of the old and the new, I was feeling tired and grotty both from the heat and hay fever so not looking the most enthused. But Rongy was keen so off he set, and geez I was pleased he did:
The four pitch line was stonking from start to finish, each pitch was amazing. Sustained and engaging following a great line up the more technical and steeper part of this great granite cliff. The final pitch was the stand out for me, up a water runnel beautifully textured allowing bridging almost from start to finish for 30m. Like before the higher I got the more my head cleared, and we both thoroughly enjoyed the route. Even better the bolts looked good, and I’m guessing they had been replaced. There was nothing dodgy about them from what we could tell:
Howsie and Andrew’s line while OK climbing was not as pleasant. The bolts had looked decidedly iffy with signs of corrosion. With bolts being the only form of protection this made for an unsettling experience and they were pleased to be back on the ground. Andrew was definitely done for the day, as a result of having climbed enough but also due to feeling bunged up and the experience of the bad bolts probably not helping. Howsie, still had a bit of fire in him, so as Rongy and I came back down we managed to rig things to allow him to climb the first two pitches of our route:
Many people come here and only hit one route, so we did well today with two routes. In total nine long pitches resulted in the climbing shoes starting to feel a bit sore, and it was time to head out. On the way down we found the right track and the walk out was clearer, that along with going downhill made the walk less sweaty. As we went down the final slabs, which Kym and I slipped down in the rain a year ago, we simply had to have one posed image (below). If you look back to the post of the first South Coast trip, you will see it is very similar to an image I took eight and half years back as we walked off Peak Head:
We got back to the car at 4pm, and still had an hour’s drive to our next destination. But in the shade of the trees it felt too nice to head off straight away. So we made a brew and chilled out for a bit, while Andrew popped another tablet to make it more bearable. The next leg of our journey would take us further east to Cheyne’s Beach Caravan Park, on the edge of an aqua blue bay and tucked up neatly against Waychinicup National Park. On arrival we completely unloaded the car. We would have three nights here allowing for less packing and unpacking, which was nice:
As the trip rolled on we got into an evening routine, for our arrival back at base camp. It basically comprised make a cuppa, cleaning ourselves up, sort the gear for the next day, have a beer, enjoy a hearty meal and hit the sack early. The weather was supposed to be closing in on us for day three, a big front threatening 10-20mm of rain. So in the morning we checked the forecast and decided to jig our itinerary round. Instead of Mermaid Point, we went to Tombstones for two reasons. The latter didn’t require negotiating a four wheel drive track and it wasn’t on the coast:
The walk-ins were getting longer with each location, and this one was a good hour. I have been fortunately to have been here before, again with Kym, when we spent two days bagging lots of the great traditional and bolted routes on offer. I was certainly not upset about coming back here, as there are so many amazing routes. Also on that trip we hadn’t climbed to the very top and I was keen to do that. This place offers steep technical sport routes, which I knew Rongy and Howsie would be keen for. So Andrew and I went for a more relaxed pace up the south face and left them to it:
I was keen to climb Trident, not as long as the routes yesterday at only 110m but still offering three nice length pitches. I thought I had it sussed thinking I could avoid the first hard pitch at grade 19, which I thought Andrew may struggle on, by climbing a grade 15 to its right. Not having climbed Trident before I was mistaken and the first pitch actually kept going for some way past the 15 and was pretty feisty. Andrew dug deep and made it up, and then we could relax into the two more gentle upper pitches:
The wind was picking up the higher we got, and we kept an eye out west but there was no sign of a storm brewing yet. On the last pitch the wind certainly added to the excitement, it felt at times like it wanted to pluck us off the rock and float us away. Once on top we then had to negotiate the amazing water formed rock sculptors, which included bowls and gullies in which vegetation was hiding from the elements and looked to be thriving. It took us a while to work our way through this natural maze going this way and that, and eventually scrambling down the west face to meet Rongy and Howsie:
We found the boys just finishing off on a second fingery and sustained 21, and Howsie was looked knackered. So they offered me a chance to run up a route that Kym and I had eyed off before, but at the time was too wet. I loved it, yet another water runnel with fine bridging up wonderful clean rock. Then handing the rope back to Howsie we dropped the grade back a few notches intended for everyone to head up a two pitch route. Rongy blew a hold but kept going and Andrew blew the toe of his climbing shoe, preventing him from getting up this one:
From atop the second pitch of Hex Marks the Spot the three of us were sheltered in a cave, and as we looked out we saw the first wave of the front come straight at us. Slowly, one by one, the peaks in the distance disappeared from sight as the belt of rain came closer and closer. So we rapped back down, it was time to shelter under the trees and have a bite to eat. The best place for this was down by the south face where Rongy was eyeing up a couple of trad lines up the flakes and cracks:
The rain seemed to pass over quickly, so the first line he went for was the harder of the two. A fine flake that got steeper the higher you go, while the gap behind the flake also narrowed to the point you could only get the tips of your fingers on a small edge. It didn’t pose too many issues for Rongy, and he was soon up sounding very happy having really enjoyed placing some gear and lapping up the more traditional style of climbing after the steep sport routes. In the image below notice the wall in the background, which I’ll mention in a bit:
Howsie followed up and the weariness was seeping back, as he struggled his way past the crux moves. And on a completely separate note in the foreground is one of the hundred plus species of Gastrolobium plants, commonly called poison peas. This plant contained a naturally occurring potent poison called 1080, which is used to bait foxes in Australia. Once a fox, or indeed dog, eats the bait the poison starves cells of calcium and energy and it can take up to three hours for the creature to die. Supposedly it’s not a nice way to go:
There are no known or proven cases of humans having died from ingesting 1080, although records suggest a hunter in the 1960s died after eating jam that contained 1080. Back to the climb and after Howsie came down I followed up, staying at the belay to get a few images of Rongy as he then tackled Apollo. The route that Andrew and I had ascended to try and avoid the first pitch of Trident. As I sat in my harness the wind picked up and the rain started to fall, you might notice the sheen on Rongy’s shoes. It was getting proper wet now but he was keen and kept going, even hinting that the wet conditions had made it even better:
Howsie practically ran up this line, which surprised us. It was full on raining now and a waterfall started to flow down the wall in the background. The sound of water streaming down was lovely to hear but also a sign that we were going to get pretty wet walking out. Despite being only just after 2pm the rain didn’t look like it was going to abate, so it was now definitely time to pack up and get ready to hike out. Everyone stood still with packs on their backs. No one was wanting to go first so I took the lead:
The rationale being that the person in front would cop all the water off the bush, as we walked the hour long hike back out. Needless to say I was completely drenched by the time we got back to the car. However, so was everyone. Despite the conditions we still stopped occasionally to check the sights and plants. Howsie explained how Trigger Plants, which Rongy was drawn too, were pollinated which I will get back too later. Rongy also spotted a Cowslip Orchid (not the image below), so that now made for a successful sighting of a different orchid on three consecutive days:
One difference between this trip and that of eight years back is that we decided to stay in cabins, as oppose to camping it. Initially when I suggested this approach there was some reservation from the others, but in my mind it was pretty clear cut when you consider a camp spot was $15 and cabin $30 per person. By the end of the trip everyone agreed it was so much better this way, and after today’s adventures the porch became a washing room with clothes, shoes, ropes, bags and gear spread all over the place dripping water:
It rained most of the night and we knew that while it may not have as much rain left in it, the front was going to hang about for most of the next day. Despite that my body clock was already set and a cuppa was made and ready for soon after 4:30. By 5am a break in the clouds allowed the sun to briefly light up the cabin, as everyone else was still tucked up in bed showing no signs of wanting to move. Needless to say it was by far the slowest morning of the trip and by about 8:30 we finally jumped in the car to head into Albany. We took our climbing gear, on the off chance things would clear up:
We had in mind to check out the conditions at the Gap, as there are some east facing walls that may have been a bit sheltered. As we came down the final hill the sight that greeted us put paid to any hope of climbing, water was funnelling 20 to 30m in the air out of the gap and came cascading down across the carpark some 50m away from the gap. We parked up on the hill to allow us to get out without being drenched, and walked down to and stood on the skywalk watching this spectacle unfold. The fierce wind and thundering sound of water made it incredibly dramatic (click on the download link to see a video):
We wandered about a few of the spots just taking it all in. The front brought in a huge swell and the waves came crashing in. And despite the rain coming and going, it was hard not to want to be out there experiencing it all. So we decided on a walk round Stoney Hill. Rongy had however not brought any shoes, his like ours were soaked from the day before, but he didn’t have any spares and the rocks on Stoney Hill were just too much for his feet. Not being a long walk Andrew, Howsie and I wander round while Rongy stayed cosy in the car:
It was still way too soon to head back into Albany, for where there was talk of getting lunch out, so we decided on another walk. Peak Head is about an hour’s walk, most of which is a sandy track allowing Rongy to come along. We know this from previous climbing trips out to this great location. On the way out I spotted a Leopard Sun Orchid, plants for which the flower opens in the sun. Needless to say they were firmly closed, but that didn’t matter as that now made it four varied orchid finds on each of the four days (click on the download link to see a video):
Atop the mighty Peak Head we huddled behind a boulder to keep out of the wind. After catching our breathe we decided we should head to the top and as we got closer the full force of the wind hit us. It made the wind Andrew and I experienced, as we topped out on Tombstones seem like a gentle breeze. It was impossible to stand upright, you had to lean right into the wind and the gust threatened to pick you up, so we ended up almost crawling the last section. Finally we headed back down, equally carefully, and our ears rang for a while after we escaped the wind:
The reward for enduring the blustery conditions was a pub feed, which the Earl of Spencer provided perfectly. The chips and pies all round, went down a treat. Before heading back we made a quick stop into a second hand shop, where Rongy got some cheap shoes and Andrew picked up (amongst other bits) a dice game called Yams. The French version of Yahtzee. As it was by the time we got back, shorted all the gear for the next day, had a feed, dried our gear (using the camp drier and the old trick of putting newspaper in your shoes), there was only time for a couple of games:
Another thing that Rongy I had done when we got back from Albany was to drive up to the next climbing spot. It was just a short 4km from the campsite but up a bush track. The campsite manager had told us there were a couple of washed out sections, so we thought we would check them out before we went out expecting to get there and climb. Two of the sections were a tad tricky and as such I opted to let Rongy drive. I don’t mind fessing up that I’m not a fan of four wheel driving. So next morning with the front having been and gone, we were off again bright and early:
Lost World is a place that none of us had been to before. Nor had any of us been to Mermaid Point, the place that we dropped of our itinerary due to the wet and windy day. Mermaid Point is accessed by the same track, and Kym had hinted that the end of the track was really cut up. Have to say that if it was much worse than what we had just driven I’m kinda pleased that we didn’t go down there. The car was parked on a flat granite slab, and as we got ready to walk in Andrew and Howsie looked west as a rain belt was coming our way:
Rongy and I were not put off, today it was forecast for a low probability of not much rain. We were pretty sure it would clear up, and we headed out on the short 700m walk after which we were greeted by what looked to be great granite slabs. Single pitch climbs, mostly, we had the night before decided where we would start. Some gentle grades to get us used to the place but now seeing it, it was also the area that looked the wettest. Rongy was first up and just like at Tombstones he managed to blow a hold and came flying off, only just after I took this image:
We stayed in this area for a while and rapped down and climbed out numerous times. The generally area is environmentally sensitive and walking round the base should not be done. As such the area is equipped to allow a rap down to belay anchors to avoid any disturbance of vegetation. After the first two proper slab routes the next ones started to steepen up and the walls were more featured, lending it more to technical face climbing. Solid rock, great holds and nice sustained moves were found on most of the lines we did:
As Howsie led out on Shadow Boxer I watched him, but then my eyes were drawn to the wall behind him. While we had mapped out a bit of a game plan the steep, grey and nicely featured wall looked amazing. We didn’t even know what the route was. There were however a few gems still to be had on this slab, and amazingly Andrew was able to climb in his worn out old shoes. He made use of a second pair of Rongy’s shoes for a couple of climbs, but they were more painful to wear so he soon went back to his own:
After mopping up a bunch of very fun routes, we stopped for a bite to eat while Rongy started to pluck up the focus and energy needed for the clean wall I had spotted. A bit of a bump up in the grade, but Shades of Grey simply had to be climbed. A tad too much for Andrew but after Rongy led it both Howsie and I followed. It gave everything it looked like it would and more, great climbing on thin but positive holds with an airy and thin top out up the rounded headwall, very cool indeed:
So the day went on, we shifted from one area to the next, making sure that there were lines that suited both parties that could be accessed from the same abseil. Lost World offered a consistent face with all the sculptured gullies and bowls being formed on the top of the granite dome. Here the top was a relatively level and the sculptured gullies were all down the sides. This proved multiple and varied slabs and faces that dropped into vegetated crevices. It was a lovely place to experience, very peaceful other than the bird song that seemed to continue day long. Howsie hinted that it was probably the Golden Whistler:
The rain didn’t come back and while it wasn’t a clear blue sky, it dried off and the temperature was refreshing in comparison to the first two days. Being cooler and having had rain the hay fever seemed to be less aggressive and even Andrew was sounding OK. The clock however didn’t stop ticking and soon we were getting to the point where we had to consider making a move, so for the last lines Howsie picked a trad line while I plumped for a slick slab. Very slick, and one that Kym later told me is a well-known sandbag route. Some might say it was about time I got what I give out:
Between us we sampled eleven routes, giving us a very good taste of what the area has to offer. We all agreed it was a worthy spot and one we would gladly come back too, there are a number of other gems here that would be great to jump on including a few multi-pitch routes. I might try and sneak down here one time with Kym to sample those. The short walk back to the car didn’t take too long and I kept a beady eye out for those elusive orchids but only saw a Cowslip, so no new orchid was found today. Howsie also kept an eye out, and lucky he did as he came across, and managed to only just avoid, a Tiger Snake coiled up on the track:
The bags went in the back of the car, which was packed with all our other gear, as we had packed up the cabin that morning. Three nights had flown past and it was time to head to the next location, but before we could start that journey Rongy took the wheel to get us back to the campsite. Part way down one of the tyres deflated, I was not very impressed. My car is fitted with road tyres not the best for these tracks. But as it happened it wasn’t a puncture and I had a compressor in the back:
Back at the campsite we made use of their compressor to get all the tyres back up to pressure, while the kettle went on. We had a two hour road trip ahead of us and a cuppa was required. Back through Albany and then onto Denmark, almost passing the front door of the first place we stayed, before carrying on to Walpole. We arrived at Coalmine Beach Caravan Park just before the sun set, so we grabbed a beer and headed down to the small beach off the Wilson Inlet where we watched the sky change colour as another great day came to an end:
Before we get to the next day of adventure, I have to put a word out there for Howsie who organised and cooked every evening meal. We had a varied feast each night including European, Indian and Asians dishes and each one was amazing, but the meal this particular night really blew my socks off. Now you may be wondering if this one even came with a glass of vino, but no the boys had brought a cask of port and most nights had a tipple before hitting the sack:
The next day we were very keen to make sure we were up and out early, this location would take a bit more time and energy to get to. Only a short 15min drive from the camp is Mount Claire, one of several tourist locations in the Walpole-Nornalup National Park. We parked up here and shouldered our packs ready for a 7.5km hike to Thompson Cove, as we walked along the trail dwarfed by the mighty Tingle Trees something didn’t sit right with me. But we walked on regardless:
After a short ascent we had a long and very steep downhill, and we all remarked how that would be a killer when we came back. When the descent finally ended we came to the swing bridge over Deep River, and that is when my nagging doubt proved worth having more of a thought about before. There was a carpark just before the bridge and that was where the 7.5km trail started. We had just walked a little over 2km which was fine coming down but going back would prove interesting. No point in crying over spilt milk and we carried on:
The walk took us through varied landscapes and vegetation types, and I was ever hopeful of remedying the lack of a different orchid being found the day before. Then I spied a Forrest Mantis Orchid, which if you would like to know what they look like you’ll have to check out my Stuffed jalapenos post. As I was looking at these Howsie pointed out another flower that had me a little foxed, the leaf made it look like an orchid but also like a succulent and possibly an exotic not native species. It was in fact a Slipper Orchid, and is the only evergreen orchid species in Western Australia:
While there were many of these plants here we only found one which had a flower out, it was a great find by Howsie. Then Rongy called me over to say he found a Mantis Orchid that looked a bit different. I wonder if this was a Butterfly Dragon Hybrid Orchid, as the broad flat labellum of Butterfly Orchids would normally be pointing upwards. No matter that makes two new Orchids and also ones that I have not found before, more than making up for the previous day. After this great find we found no more:
Because of all the sights to see on the way down, plus the flower hunting it took us two and half hours to hike the 9.5km to Thompson’s Cove. And it was worth every step… we were right on the coast with wave washed granite slabs sweeping down into the ocean providing a dramatic backdrop to the crags we came across. In rough weather this place would no doubt be very serious and I wonder what it was like when the front from a few days back had come in. Today, however it was great conditions:
The guide had suggested the climbs were up to 20m high, and as we stood at the base of the main area we looked up in awe. It looked taller and pretty intimidating and everyone was quiet just taking the place in. When we were packing the gear up, and considering the hike, Rongy and I had only packed my twin 50m half ropes and a single rack. We felt that we could double up each half rope, and split the rack. But standing at the base and looking up we realised we may have misjudged this place:
With no one making a sound I took the opportunity and announced that I was going to jump on the crag classic to kick the proceedings off. So I racked up and started up the wonderful layback crack in the open book corner. I had contemplated a beautiful looking finger crack in the wall to the right but decided against. A good job as my legs didn’t even seem ready for the corner, which is four grades easier. It was great fun, even if I didn’t make it sound like it as I worked my way up feeling more and more weary. We also discovered the routes were in fact 25m long so there was no chance of running two lines:
Howsie followed me up, but Rongy was keen on leading it. So we took turns in climbing, Rongy and Andrew went up the classic next, as Howsie and I waited below eyeing up the other lines. Rongy made a soundless ascent and Andrew did really well following up. By the time they were back down Howsie was ready, having dispelled his nervousness and fear as he went up another fine looking crack and flake system. It looked great but had a run out section leading to a nervous few moves high above his gear. Holding it together he carried on and allowed both Rongy and I to enjoy the fine moves with the safety of a rope above us:
Andrew sat that one out. Today it seemed like it would be another nice cool day and no one seemed to be suffering from hay fever. But he needed a bit of time to recover from the first route, which had been right on his limit. Rongy then took the opportunity to try the thin crack I had contemplated as a first lead. It looked amazing and was a tough opposition, but we encouraged him to keep going, and going, and going. It certainly took some time but he made it up eventually, and was justifiably happy:
It was already time for food, and Rongy swept the flies away as Andrew prepared the wraps. Lunches were pretty standard, but this time due to the long walk in we had brought more snacks and fruit. And it was the first day that we got through everything, maybe it was the long hike in or maybe it was just that the week was starting to take its toll and the body was demanding more food intake. Either way we never felt like we were short on food, which was a good thing:
It was time to ease the pace a little and Howsie was happy to lead up the Swinging Detectives, a shorter route but equally fun. It also happened to be the only route on the entire trip for which we used the pink tricam, something that may ring alarm bells for the local South West climbing crew. This time everyone followed him up, and after I got up it was time to refocus myself as I knew what challenge lay ahead. There was a featured wall I had spotted, that looked like we simply had to have a go at and it was my lead next:
It was the last climb of the day, and looked easy at the grade until the first holds were reached and the smeary, rounded nature of them hit you. It was intense, the holds at times were small fingertip smears and pinches and at times they had the slightest edge. All just enough to allow you to balance and slowly work your feet up. Full body tension was required for almost the whole route and there was no margin for error, what a way to end it. Rongy and then Howsie followed up and the focus on their faces said it all, a great way to end the day:
Well kind of end, as we still had a 9.5km walk back out. Just walking up the crag you could see everyone’s legs were heavy and tired. Fortunately, most of the inclines were gentle and forgiving they just seemed to go on for a long time. As we were finishing up and then starting to walk out the sky began to clear> This made for a warmer hike out and we were swamped by flies, most of which just piggy backed on our backpacks. I took point and set a pace, and just kept going. There was no sightseeing this time and we made it back to the swing bridge in just over an hour and half:
The last 2km leg of the hike included the long steep hike almost to the top of Mount Claire, so I offered to go ahead leaving the rest of them and my pack behind. As it was Rongy and I went for it, and without packs it made it more manageable and we made good time completing the return leg in two hours. We drove down to pick Andrew and Howsie up before heading back to the cabin. With tree trunk legs we sat heavily and had a beer, ate lots of cheese and crackers and then Howsie cooked up another feast. We polished it all off not feeling like we had overeaten:
The last morning dawned, above, and then it was time to pack up our third basecamp. Today we were heading home, but before we did that we would stop in at a crag that all four of us have climbed at more than once. Mount Frankland was on the cards but only for one climb, the incredible Hannibal. A brilliant 40m pitch of continually intense slab climbing. It is the one grade 20 that Howsie has added to his 2020 challenge that is outside of the South West, just because it is so worthy:
It had rained hard the night before, it was short and sharp but with 20mm having fallen two days back and another 4mm last night the chances of it being in condition were slim. No matter, we packed the car as if we were going to climb it, Howsie even racked up at the car before we trudged the short walk in. Which is when Rongy spotted another orchid to add to the tally, a lovely look Pink Fairy Orchid. One of many we found on this walk, which made it eight types of orchids on this trip, not bad as we get close to the end of the orchid season:
The great elephant trunk which Hannibal ascends stood proud, and I could see the water marks were the rain from the last few days had come down. The lower potions had green lichen splattered all over it and this would no doubt have soaked up all that moisture. Still Howsie and Rongy had to go and touch the rock to convince themselves of the inevitable, ever hopeful they worked their way to the base and touched the rock. Then came down in silence, it was not to be the mighty Hannibal will have to be climbed on another day:
Seeing we were already out, we did at least walk round the base of Mount Frankland. It’s not a huge walk but it is very beautiful, with towering trees and varied undergrowth interspersed with great vistas out across the tree covered peaks and valleys. We found more of the Trigger Flowers, which Rongy really liked, and Howsie tried to trick the little flower into thinking an insect was on the lower petals. When this happens the top petals flick down and place pollen on the back of the insect. As it moves from flower to flower this repeat action results in pollination occurring:
While we didn’t climb up the south face of Mount Frankland, we did climb the 300 plus steps on the tourist approach to the summit. The big hike from the day before was taking its toll and my legs could feel it, especially as I made my way up the last few flights of steps. Um maybe the sensible thing would have been to leave my pack at the base. After taking in the view across the towering karri, jarrah and tingle trees it was time to head to the car, make a final brew and stash the cab with snacks for the three hour trip back to Bunbury. I wonder if we will do it all again in 2028 and if so where we will go:
Sandbagged 