In view of not seeing too much off the local beach I headed to another section of the beach on Monday afternoon, still within Peppermint Grove Beach but requiring a bit of a car journey to get there. Wave Walk offers a narrow and very shallow reef right off the beach, after that there is an expanse of sand before the next deeper section of less featured reef. It seemed fairly quiet in the water but I did happen to come across a school of Western Pomfred, being my first sighting of these pretty fish this season. These ones are relatively small at only a couple of inches long, as they can grow up to ten inches long:
I also came across a solitary Southern Reef Squid, it didn’t seem overly phased by my presence but stayed a healthy distance away. These guys are intelligent creatures belonging to the cephalopod class, which includes octopus and cuttlefish. Like these other creatures they can change their colour and can do so to match their surroundings or do so when feeling threatened. They grow up to 50cm long and are usually found in small schools of less than 10, also being nocturnal while I have seen them during my daytime snorkels it is not often and they are usually pretty flighty:
As I double backed I came across not just one but five of them, ranging in size from fully grown to approx. 20cm in length. If they were really threatened they would be gone in the blink of an eye, but instead they drifted off and when I stopped looking at them they came back to me. At times swimming right under me, but they didn’t like it too much when I duck dived down to swim next to them. Over the sand they became translucent and then once over the weed they changed to a beautiful bronze colour that almost looked fluorescent with a striking blue line outlining their body:
It felt so remarkable to have been allowed to spend about 10min with the squid that I have included a couple of videos. Eventually they seemed to have had enough of playing with or was it observing me, so I headed a bit further out to the deeper area. There wasn’t too much to report. That however is not why I have included an image of a Sand Anemone, which I have done several times over the years. The reason being is that they always seem fake looking in the pictures, the tentacles being almost too prefect looking instead like a fine painting:
Today I was considering heading back to Wave Walk to check out what life might be there in the morning. However, on Boxing Day our freezer decided to die and as such we had to empty all that festive food and organise a new freezer. You might think this would be an impossible task late on Boxing Day. But a short hour after we had finished emptying it, to avoid any damage to the new floor as it all defrosted, we had bought a new fridge/freezer. Even better it would be delivered on Tuesday, and they would take the old ones away to be recycled. Not bad considering the next two days were a Sunday and then a public holiday:
Why is all this relevant, well early today we got a message to say they would arrive between 9 and 11 and as such I opted for a local beach snorkel instead of driving off. So it was that as Lisa took the poodles down for a walk I joined them until we had reached the beach. On the way down we got to watch a flock of pelicans circling above us. As Lisa wandered off I put my head once more underwater in search of more finds. There have been a few fish that I have fleetingly seen, sadly being skittish I’ve yet to get any half decent images:
Above is one of them, a Magpie Morwong, and while the image isn’t great I seem to be a little hooked on QuestaGame. So with a few images from all angles except a good side on one I was pretty happy. It was just enough to add it to my collection. The other one is below and it is a Southern Scalyfin, this one tends hide in caves and will aggressively protect its home. Despite being just a bit bigger than the fish it still did its best at scaring me away, with short fast movements and not realising that if it just stayed still for a short while I would leave it be:
The positive about QuestaGame is that I get to verify my finds, most of which I have been able to successfully identify. I have however made a couple of recent errors both of which were in the post: https://sandbagged.blog/2020/12/23/swimming-for-play-and-work/. The first was the large fish that I came across near the Capel River mouth. I thought it was a Tailor but I now know it was in fact a Samson Fish, which seems so obvious now. The other, which still doesn’t seem that obvious is the ray I found while diving with Rongy. I guessed a Spotted Stingaree but it is a Circular Stingaree. The former is not known to come this far up the western coast, but I have to say both look very similar to me:
On this dive I also came across something that looked quite unique. I’ve not seen one of these before and despite asking a few friends, consulting with my books and google I am completely stumped. The above might be a number of creatures or plants, but I have not been able to narrow it down. The eight arms are of equal length and it looks like it may have a mouth in the middle. Hopefully the images I got will be good enough for the experts to identify it for me, and I’ll keep you posted. As I headed back to shore I spied a young Southern Fiddler Ray, after which I got out shivering and headed back to prepare for the fridge/freezer delivery:
Jake was hankering to get some leading in so I offered to hold his rope up at Welly Dam. Much as he was keen to head to Bob’s this second option allowed me to make a slightly shorter day of it, considering I had been out with Howsie just yesterday. In addition there are heaps of quality lines here and in truth it seems he was just as keen for the Dam. Driving in I noticed that the mural is starting to take shape since my last trip here with Howsie in late November, but it still has some way to go: https://sandbagged.blog/2020/11/29/running-out-of-time/:
Jake has previously climbed here but it was a long time back and he hadn’t led much from what I could tell. Also many of the routes he would be keen to jump on now, after having got somewhat stronger and more confident from climbing in the Blue Mountains, would most likely be his first time on them. I was therefore more than happy to offer him the rope and simply second up each route. We started on Welcome to Edges as a warm up, and he made short work of it. I wasn’t aware that he was taking a few snaps as I cleaned the routes, and seeing he did it only feels right to include a few:
As Jake had not been on most of these routes before I was keen to see how he climbed them. This place is renowned for being hard to read, making for on-sight ascents all the more tricky. I left him to each lead, not offering any advice, clues or opinions on the moves that lay ahead of him. There were only a few occasions when he varied the approach from what I would normally take, with Raging Torrent being one of them. Even how he climbed it, he felt the grade of 18 was fair. It is however easy to see why some people feel this is a sandbag route, if they happen to try and climb it like an indoor wall instead of a natural rock feature:
The Red-tailed Black Cockatoos seemed particularly active today, their cawing was never missing for long and on several occasions large flocks flew overhead. What was missing were people, despite being a public holiday and a time when the campsites here are fully booked no one was about. I was expecting people to be milling about making use of the BBQs to cook up a feast as the kids ran amuck on the lush grass. A couple of car tourists rolled in and then back out without getting out of their cars, and it wasn’t until we were on the last couple of routes that a few cars actually stopped here but even then not for long:
Next up was Savage Sausage Sniffer, one of my favourite lines here. The clean vertical quartz band that provide a smooth and at times nervous layback sequence makes this such a gem. Jake was loving it, each climb he would come down exclaiming that it was a great route. He made short work of the first three lines and was then keen to bump it up a notch or two. So after cleaning this one we walked along the crag to check out the lines and one stood out to him:
Attack of the March Flies is yet another solid lead, and even more solid on-sight. Jake has a slight advantage of reach making the clip on the last bolt before the anchors slightly more sane. But that certainly didn’t take anything away from the impressive on-sight on what is a gnarly and at times intense route. One of the things that attracted him to this route was the clean flake line, that and my previous comment about “a natural rock feature” has stopped and made me think. The variety of features on these rock walls is pretty amazing, and even more so considering they are the remnants of a working granite quarry:
The quarry was first worked in early 1930s, the granite blocks that were blasted out of this outcrop were so hard that they resulted in the rock crusher regularly breaking down. So instead of breaking them down any smaller they simply tipped them into the formwork and poured the concrete over them. The quarry was reopened in the late 1950’s when the wall was raised to the height it is today. Upon completion of the dam wall works in 1960 loose rock was removed from the faces of the quarry and the area was turned into a picnic area with shelters, BBQs and a lookout platform to view the dam from:
That would mean that 2020 marks the 60th anniversary of the creation of the quarry. And I’m guessing that the quarry was opened to the public on the same day that the newly raised dam was officially opened on the 21st October 1960. Interestingly the picnic area was a result of more tourists arriving to see the dam in the 1950s, due to the increasing popularity of motor vehicles. Fast-forward sixty years, two months and seven days and I finally saw Jake stumble, the top headwall of Rock Therapy was just too hard to read and despite a sustained effort to get the on-sight he finally slipped off:
His mood wasn’t damped and after working out the moves he was keen to jump on Ebony Road. For this route he had prior knowledge, as it was one of the lines he had topped roped a few weeks back before deciding not to climb here again until he had the chance to lead the routes ground up. He hadn’t dwelled on the last climb and was back to ticking with another clean ascent in the bag. The final route of the day was Murky Corner. This one held a special memory for Jake, as the first route he had climbed here only just after getting into climbing hence the video below. Back then he top roped it, but today he savoured it as the final lead of the day on these great 60 year old quarried walls:
It was Howsie’s last trip out to climb in South West for 2020, and his last chance to have a crack at the only grade 20 that he has not had a bash at climbing. After a blistering week leading up to and including Christmas day, it was a relief that the weekend was cooling off by 10 degrees. We still headed out early and were racking up at the top of the Northern Blocks, as the sun poked it’s head out. The last time we came this way to bag grade 20s, we walked out and didn’t even come up to the route that was on the cards today… Ain’t No Slouch:
This grade 20 was put up by Kym in January 2015, and since then I would be surprised if it has ever had a second ascent. Kym polished off his last projects at the Northern Blocks in that month, and even offered the glory of a first ascent to others during the process. But those memories only exist in the minds of us there at the time, as it was a trip for which I didn’t write a report up for. Craig and I followed Kym up that first ascent, and my memory was that it was worthy of the grade but hadn’t felt too bad:
Before we hit Kym’s line it was time to be a bit sensible and warm up. We walked along the crag looking at the project of the day and also the warm up options. Of which Howsie decided on and headed up Missing Frog. A sensible grade 16 some might say. But be warned while it is a great route the gear is at times spaced and the stances are balancy, with delicate and occasionally nervous moves between them. Safe to say this route has enough spice for me to recommend you do not send a budding newly initiated grade 16 leader up it:
Howsie made his way up this fine line but was still keen for a bit more warming up, or was it just delaying tactic? Not wanting to jump of anything too tiring I plumped for one of the early classics from the 1980’s. Corpus Delecti is a strange one for me, mostly due to the run out nature of the top flake. As most will know I’m usually not afraid of a runout on good rock. But for some reason my brain goes into extra, extra safety mode on this route as others, and most recently Rongy, have experienced:
Today I managed a clean ascent and kept it together, even hanging on the ever so slightly loose feeling jug while placing a couple of bits of gear before topping out. Howsie followed up but was looking like he was working hard, he had already hinted he was a little weary due to it having been a big few days. Christmas usually is, with a lack of sleep, too much yummy food and for some a bit more alcohol that we would normally consume. This was not so much a delaying tactic, but I could tell his mind was whirring away inside fully aware of the task that lay ahead:
Fair to say that we really do not have too many true roof climbs here, and as such we do not get the opportunity to practise this technique too much. Ain’t No Slouch starts with an overhung traverse, with your feet well back from the jugs on the lip of the roof. It took a few false starts to get going but eventually he went for it and managed to get himself established underneath the steep V chimney, which is protected by a large wedged flake. Pulling into chimney is hard work, it is difficult to put weight on your feet and the handholds and not overly positive:
He strenuously pulled into the chimney and was briefly out of sight, and needless to say with all the noises he was making my camera was put down. Then a strange noise came, followed by a rapid “I’m off” that only reached my ears after he was sailing back down. With just enough slack to swing in an uncontrolled fashion under the roof. All I could focus on were his feet, the toes only just missed making contact with a rough limestone block. They went underneath and I saw both shins smack the limestone and then continue on their trajectory, ouch was all I could think:
After that and putting the battle scars aside Howsie went back up, this time puling on a few bits of gear to avoid a repeat fall. Once above the gnarly jamming sequence he continued upwards, and it was then my turn to follow. The traverse was OK, but pulling into that chimney was too much and I hung in the rope. After a few attempts I had my sequence sussed and was able to pull off the moves. At the top Howsie displayed the grazes, cuts, flaps of skin and puncture wounds that the limestone block had bestowed on both of his shins, noting I’ve spared you the sight of the close-up images:
Despite this experience, and the obviously painful reminder of the events he was still upbeat and had enjoyed the route. So much so that he gleefully patched himself up with a smile on his face, before we headed back down. As he touched down he said he thought he had spied a seal a couple of hundred meters north of the crag. So before setting off on the next route we went to check it out and sure enough a seal bobbed about in the shallows. It clearly saw us and seemed to approve of our presence. We sat and watched it for some time, until it eventually went under and was lost from sight:
I caught Howsie looking back at the crag, and assumed he was reliving the route trying to figure it out. I guessed right and we wandered back we talked through the moves, holds and gear. Despite his increasingly stinging shins he was actually talking about when he comes back to try it again, and what he will do differently. So Kym I think it is fair to say he loved your route, but we did both ponder whether it was a bit of a sandbag. I guess it just needs a few more ascents before we can make judgement on that, should anyone be keen to take it on after hear this tale:
We were not completely done and still had to get back up to our bags. Being my lead I picked one of the longer routes here, Use No SLCDs. Again a 1980’s classic, which explains the name or more precisely the acronym used. SLCDs refers to spring loaded camming devices, or as we call them today cams. While I have previously climbed this route in the fashion demanded by the route’s name, today I chose not to. After getting pretty pumped on Howsie’s last 20 of 2020 I opted for easier to place gear, popping those cams in whole way:
It felt a little too early to leave so we decided on one last route, the very fine Banana Split. A mellow graded route but one with great exposure and positions, a perfect route to end the session. And making use of his new rope for one more climb Howsie led us out. We packed up and walked out arriving at the cars shortly after 10:30, it was an early wrap but we both felt like we had a great morning. On the drive back we discussed Howsie’s up and coming 2021 challenge, working through the list of routes some of which seem to be making him nervous already:
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:
Sandbagged 