Finally the school holidays have arrived!  And seeing my trip back to the UK had to be cancelled I am staying home for the two weeks, as we are being told at work that we have to keep using our leave.  While many are complaining about this I don’t mind a couple of weeks at home, time to kick back and head out for a few walks and just maybe a bit of climbing.  It didn’t start off too well on this long weekend, with no one available for a climb.  I was however not perturbed and picked a destination and headed out, but not until I had a cuppa or two with Lisa who this time hadn’t had any vivid dreams for me to recount:

As I drove past Busselton there was a stunning cloud formation ahead.  It looked like the front drum of an old style lawnmower.  Cylindrical in nature, low to the ground and dark and ominous, it extended a long way from south to north and was an amazing sight.  I can’t show you and even if I had stopped to take an image I doubt it would have done it justice.  Sure enough as the drum rolled over the rain fell, I was however feeling optimistic and drove onwards.  As I closed in on my destination the clouds were still low, so low that at times there was a mist, and peeking through I could see the blue sky fighting to break through:

It wasn’t an early start, and two cars had beat me to the carpark of Wilyabrup.  There was also a signed at the start of the gravel road, just off the bitumen, warning drivers that the unsealed road that led to the carpark could be slippery.  It seems that more and more city dwellers are heading out to these kinds of places and need reminding of the obvious.  Indeed as I drove out later on I came across a couple of cars coming in, unprepared to give way until I made it clear I wasn’t stopping seeing in both situations they were on a straight and wider section than I was:

The walk in was slower than normal, there were so many flowers out.  Red, blue, purple, white and yellow abounded and it was hard to walk past without spending a bit of time soaking them up.  I came across my first orchid of the season, a pink fairy and I always marvel when I see an orchid.  We used to scour the Stirling Ranges looking for orchids every spring time, and have amassed a photo library of some twenty plus species.  There were also large clumps of the above Clematis, a creeper plant that looked to almost be suffocating it’s host.  I don’t recall seeing this plant before but it is a native to the area:

In view of the long weekend, I had decided on a place that I was ninety-nine percent certain that no else would go to.  In the South West guide I described this place as “likely to appeal to those die-hard traditional climbers”.  The rock can be variable and you have to use holds that may comprise gneiss, flowstone and at times a mica-rich weakly cemented, crumbling choss.  Below is probably the scariest hold you have to put all your faith in as both a hand and then foot hold.  I’m probably not selling the place and in view that the ground underneath the first two lines was completely covered with greenery I’m guessing that Wiggins and I may have been the last people to climb here, back in June 2019:

I started on Sure Footed a route I put up on my first visit here in 2013 with Alan.  Next up was one of the original routes of the area Turkish Delight and I was pleasantly reminded of the great moves and positions of this line.  It was so good that I took a short video of my second lap.  Then I climbed a creation of Steve, Old Crate and that too was very fun.  It’s been a while since he has been out and I’ll have to encourage him a bit more persistently to hit some rock.  After that I turned my attention to another one I put up, during a different trip here with Wiggins.  On the Face of It is the route for which you have to use the above hold.  Looking back it was a bit of a crazy lead and I doubt anyone else has ever touched it:

As I rapped down and climbed up the great cliff of Driftwood Bay I checked every pocket, break and gully I could find.  Sadly there was no sign or clues to suggest the presence of a snake, lizard, or even beetle.  But I did stumbled across the above molted exoskeleton from a huntsman spider.  It was lazily twisting and turning from the single silk thread that attached it to the rock, as the gentle breeze blew it about.  Sorry to anyone who suffers from arachnophobia, but I just couldn’t resist including the image and probably should have warned you in advance:

The last two climbs were the crag classic Integrity, and the only route on which a hold broke on me, and yet another one of my routes Cauliflower Soup again put up with Wiggins.  It is certainly not for gym junkie or sport climbers, and while there is nothing too hard here it is also not for the weak hearted.  Like I said only die hard traditional climbers would enjoy this place, not only the variable rock but also the occasional long runout.  I have however introduced a number of local climbers to the delights of the place, including those mentioned above and Lou, Glen and maybe a few others.  Some have even returned for a second helping:

It wasn’t until I topped out on the last lap of the last line that I saw anyone else.  Two people were preparing to climb at the main cliffs of Wilyabrup and above were the tourists, I could see them with their selfie stick taking images.  Judging by the location of the two climbers I guessed they were going to tackle Stormcock.  It would have been fun to watch them from my vantage point from where I had a great view and it had, as I had hoped, turned into a glorious day.  But they were phaffing about taking forever to get ready and I was tiring, so headed out:

It was a slow walk out as I admired the flowers again, only this time in sunlight.  Checking the images back home, to try and put a name to the many flowers I saw, I was amazed to realise that we have not got a flower identification book for our local area.  We have them for the South Coast, Stirling Ranges, Dryandra, Central Australia and several other places but not the South West where we live.  On the final approach to the car the familiar call of the Black Cockatoos, I think they were the long billed variety, was louder than normal.  As I passed underneath a tree, ten or more of them erupted from the canopy some of them holding onto the gum nuts they had been feasting on:

This morning started in a house full of stairs, it was a house on stilts high above the ocean and the water below was angry and menacing with crashing waves.  I found a strange shaped bottle of what looked to be a boutique beer, and downed it.  Unbeknown to me it was made from magic mushrooms so I was in a bit of a stupor and Lisa had to follow me round.  Looking after me and making sure I didn’t fall down any of the stairs or worse into the ocean.  Then Lisa woke up and while I was up and about I hadn’t touched any alcohol, or other substances for that matter, other than a cuppa of earl grey tea:

I do wonder what it would be like to have dreams like Lisa, she certainly has some amazing adventures and it is not surprising she at times wakes up tired.  I’m the opposite, out and about soon after waking up, ready for action.  Today however I wasn’t being picked up till 7:30.  It was still raining on an off, like it had been for the last 36 or so hours.  Because of that we were still not sure if we would head out or just go into the shed.  Discussions were had between Howsie and Rongy as they drove out to my place, and I got a message that we would head outdoors so threw my gear in the back of my car and waited for them:

Castle Rock was our destination.  The crags on the western coast would be subject to full force of the strong winds and potential of bands of rain that the forecast promised.  Here at least we were in a more protected bay, plus there was the lure of a grade 20 for Howsie.  Just one at this crag and one he was yet to bag in 2020.  It wasn’t too cold but the wind was blustery and the west face was in shade so we were rugged up.  We sent Howsie up Smear to Glory, a fun and very trad style route that is never too hard but has added spice due to the gear and positions:

I was also a little surprised that neither of the boys had climbed the cracks to the left.  A while back Rongy and I climbed a route to the far left with Katie, which is when I got him to climb the route Howsie just led.  But the cracks that sit between these two lines had remained untouched.  They are not hard maybe grade 8 or so but they are fun lines.  I seem to repeat them many times with the likes of the Peppy Crew and Lou, in fact a few people have popped their leading cherry on the line below.  Seeing it was a windy and uncertain day we hit the cracks next, with Rongy picking the obvious and most striking corner:

By being selective in the choice of holds this allowed for a bit of practice jamming.  As mentioned in my post last week, some jamming practices is a good thing for an up and coming trip which is starting to get closer.  Back to Castle Rock and I too picked off an easy line, one that has a top out that seems to stump a few people due to the lack of gear.  But it really isn’t bad, and today I almost wondered if had needed to rope up for it.  It felt nice to cruise on some easy lines, but we knew there was some business on the other side of the crag that we could not avoid:

So it was that Howsie stood at the bottom of Well Rounded, contemplating whether he was warmed up enough.  He pondered this for a while, and then a while longer before thinking just a little more about it.  All the time any warming up the previous climbs had provided would be a distant memory, so we made the decision for him.  One of the worries on this route is the first clip as it is awkward, quite high and has a nasty landing awaiting anyone who fails before clipping it.  Steve has been known to stick clip this bolt (with his fishing rod) to avoid this:

Howsie was looking good, slow but steady.  He made the first clip, teetered about for a bit then made his way to the second clip.  All the while hanging onto all the namesake rounded holds, which is all this route offers for the two thirds.  He seemed not to have any memory of the line, and we later worked out the last time he had climbed this route was with me in March 2015 while Rhys had been taking images of us.  Three of the images made it into the South West climbing guide, including Howsie on this route:

Back then he managed a strong, confident and clean ascent.  But this time he was spending way too long on those rounded holds, so it was he slipped and decided to go back down to have a second bash.  You may have noticed the jacket was off.  This side of the crag was in full sun, when it wasn’t playing hide and seek with the clouds, and it creates a bit of heat trap.  Fine on a winter, coming into spring day, like today and we were relishing it, but on a summer day it is a killer.  On his second attempt at least the draws were in, taking the edge off slightly:

As we went up he was looking less coordinated than the first time, a bit like I must have looked in Lisa’s dreams after having the magic mushroom beer (supposedly).  He got to the same height as before and then slipped off those smooth holds, again.  To give him a proper rest Rongy provided a master class of how to use smooth, slopey holds and glided up the route.  This style of climbing suits Rongy down to the ground.  The holds are less positive and you need to put your limbs in unlikely positions and use body tension and to maximise every point of contact.  It’s hard to explain but when you see it in action it is very graceful:

I followed Rongy up and have to say I’m glad I didn’t lead the route, it felt just that little bit too testy for me today.  Howsie watched on and when we came back down he went for attempt number three.  With the draws in, a bit more intel and a decent rest he looked smooth and never showed any signs or made any noises to indicate he might fail.  It was third time lucky and there was a big sigh of relief, as that meant we do not need to use one of his opportunities to get out to bag this line.  Rongy and then I took the opportunity for a second lap seeing the rope was there, and I stayed atop as they went back down:

A route at the crag called Spanking the Monkey has always drawn my attention.  I’ve attempted it several times and it always ends the same, I get a spanking and there is no sign of a monkey.  More of those strange smooth holds that Castle Rock gives, but this time it is steeper and they are less obvious.  The start is tenuous, pumpy and a little scary.  Even Rongy had to dig deep to work out the sequence, using every ounce of that special technique he has.  Despite giving it everything he slipped off several times until he finally managed to unlock the path and get established in the crack above:

On my previous attempts I seem to recall I was out with Craig, we were both climbing strong and were not afraid to jump on a 23 at any crag.  This feisty 22 however had us foxed and we never got it clean.  The big issue with this line, is that the start simply drains you of almost all of your energy, and after that while there are reasonable hand holds it stays steep and you need to keep hanging on, and on, and on all the way up.  Add to that your feet and mostly on smears, so it is exhausting to climb and just as exhausting to watch:

After slipping off the start, Rongy managed to get the rest of the route clean.  There was a fair bit of uncharacteristic huffing and puffing going on, and several times he asked Howsie to watch him indicating he was close to falling off.  Then for the top moves he seemed to hang about for ages, shaking out and taking his time.  I thought it was because he knew I was running about like a mad person taking images from every conceivable angle.  Eventually he topped out and both Howsie and I could let our hearts subside from our throats back down to where they should be:

Both Howsie and I were a tad nervous to follow up this line.  I followed first and kept slipping off the start flakes, my use of body positions wasn’t up to scratch and I felt like I was being spanked again.  However, once I sorted out the sequence the rest flowed… until those final moves.  Rongy hadn’t been posing but resting, as best the position would allow, and working out the next moves.  It was overhung, had small holds, required big moves and all that on tried arms.  It was an epic finish, one I only just managed to do:

Howsie went up next looking weary.  They offered me the opportunity to bag one more lead, but after that line we all felt that we had been worked enough today.  Despite the inclement weather that had resulted in an occasional sprinkle from the clouds, which had continually rolled past overhead, we had managed to bag some fun lines on this small crag that packs a punch.  Now in case you are perplexed about the title of the post it has nothing to do with my antics in Lisa’s dreams… as we sorted through the gear we supped on a hot cuppa from the thermos that Howsie had kindly brought along, so I just didn’t have it in me to comment on his 70s attire:

After two sessions of pulling plastic over the last week I have been feeling pretty whacked, and while I’ve highlighted the two boulder sessions there are probably a few factors at play.  So when there seemed little chance of anyone else being available to head out this weekend, I was undecided.  But my rock fetish got the better of me and I prepared myself for a solo mission.  In my usual overly organised fashion the bag was packed on Friday night, and when Saturday morning arrived I wasn’t feeling particularly motivated.  Instead mooching about the house chatting to Lisa and sipping cups of tea.  Eventually I got moving, and in my relaxed state I couldn’t help stop just after leaving Peppermint Grove Beach to take a snap of the black swans:

Being early spring the wetlands that boarder our little hamlet are full of water and attracting many waterbirds, including egrets, herons spoonbills and of course the black swans.  They have an erratic migration pattern, but are known to mainly breed in our part of the world and these wetlands are perfect for them during this period.  In the 1800s they were seen as ornamental birds, a little like peacocks, and introduced to quite a few other countries.  I can understand why, as the red beaks stand out and when they fly the flash of white in their wings is very striking:

Despite the glorious forecast and my late arrival at the carpark, I had the pick of spots with not one other car having gotten there before me.  It is the first time in many months that I have walked to the crag in just a T-shirt, and even the baggy bottoms felt a little overkill today.  While there were no cars at the carpark I did pass a couple of people hiking on the Cape to Cape track.  The “Wander out Yonder” campaign being promoted in Western Australia to increase local tourism is working very well at getting people out and about, maybe a little too well for us locals:

I had initially procrastinated about where to go, Welly Dam or Wilyabrup and if the latter then which area.  I plumped for Wilyabrup, and then even as I walked in I was changing my mind about which area to climb.  There had been a bit of rain early this morning and so the rock might have been damp, and that along with me feeling achy and tired made me think about Driftwood Bay where there were long lines and easy grades.  But as it was I stuck to my original intention as I had left the house and headed to the Northern Blocks:

It’s easy to set up the top ropes here and every route, or at least the ones I had in mind, are worthy.  As I started on my first route, Corpus Delecti, there were a few drops from the sky.  They however soon stopped and never returned.  Next I hit Digital Delecti.  The two climbs felt hard and my arms pumped out very quickly, I was doing my usual of two laps on each route and they didn’t feel any easier on the second lap, which I would normally expect.  As I was tackling these lines a group had congregated on the rocks with all their photography gear, and stayed there while I played on the two lines.  Hopefully I didn’t spoil their natural landscape:

I was thinking that maybe four lines would do me today.  So I climbed Use No SLCDs and then shifted the top rope setup again to play on Trust Your Instincts (below).  Despite both of them being a grade harder than the first two lines I felt good on them.  On most of the lines today I took my time, resting where I could and shaking out to avoid getting pumped.  But on the first lap of Trust Your Instincts I was extra slow, then as I got to the top a large group of hikers burst into applause and cheers.  From previous posts you may have noticed it is not something I particularly enjoy, so it didn’t result in any response from me:

As the image below shows the offending hikers moved on after lap number one of Trust Your Instincts, which I was pleased about.  Then after finishing the second lap and feeling pretty good I looked down and decided to hit Green Stone, at two grades harder.  I have led this route a couple of times before so kinda knew what to expect.  But my prior knowledge and new found rhythm for the morning didn’t help me, and on both laps I was unable to sustain the pace and had to rest.  I’m still not sure and replaying the route in my head about how to manage the many sustained moves in one hit:

Howsie be warned that last route will be on your list for next year…  Now I feel you should never finish a climbing morning on a failure, so I set up on the easiest line of the day and a cracker of a route called Banana Split.  In fact you should never climb here and not do this route, it’s so good.  It was a nice cruisey way to finish off and I had enough left in the tank so it didn’t feel too challenging.  It also offered, like the first bit of Use No SLCDs, a chance to practice my jamming skills.  Something that may well be required in earnest on a trip planed in November:

After six fine lines and twelve laps I was toast.  In addition to the photographing and applauding hikers I had seen quite a few others out as well.  Even as I walked out I bumped into a few more so I let them get ahead of me as I scoured, as I had been all morning with no success, for any fauna or flora of interest.  So I’ll leave you with an image of this wood layered bracket fungus, this was the best specimen I found.  Google has however failed me and I can find no interesting facts about it:

Howsie sent me the list of grade 20s still left to bag after our trip to Wilyabrup last weekend, and seeing we had a week of dry’ish weather ahead of us I suggested a short jaunt up to Welly Dam might be in order.  With five lines still on the list from this location it was the obvious choice, plus we were both keen on a quick session and the accessibility of Welly Dam gives exactly that.  After the last few trips out, and feeling the cold, we decided on a far more reasonable start and the mist was rolling over the dam wall as we arrived in full daylight:

Over winter Welly Dam has been pretty soggy, worse than any winter I can recall.  However, Rongy had been here on Friday doing a bit of trip rope soloing and had said it was definitely drying up.  We were not expecting perfect conditions but we were hopeful and on arrival it was looking promising.  We had not however managed to dodge the cold and it nowhere near to breaking double digits.  Howsie had already suggested a warm up climb and was looking at me expectantly.  I got the hint and racked up and pointed me towards Raging Torrent:

I felt cold and clumsy and by the top of the climb my arms were feeling tired.  That said today was not about me, and it was the perfect warm up climb for Howsie.  Making the whole body move about and stretch, with not too much fingery stuff.  One of the negatives of the dam being that after winter loose rock can be more abundant, and as Howsie climbed up he managed to dislodge the rock above that narrowly missed me.  If you look carefully you might be able to see it below as well, lucky I had my tin pot on eh.  As we were finishing up a couple of cars rolled into the carpark:

The new arrivals were also climbers, a crew from Perth.  A friendly mob who had camped to last night, so before they intended to get climbing they needed coffee.  Out came a stove and they mulled about as Howsie took on his first grade 20… Gumby Goes Bolting.  It’s a route he seems to enjoy and he made short work of it, I then pulled the rope and went up.  I was again feeling clunky and robotic and felt like this pink fumitory, which is almost a climber.  This weed doesn’t quite manage to climb and instead just seems to crawl over, and smoother, whatever it can:

Next on the list was Ebonie Road, the rock on this route was a bit wet in places.  The start wasn’t too bad but the mid-section followed a line of very wet and greasy holds.  Howsie was looking in fine form and cruised the start better than ever before, and then kept his cool on the upper section to make it two out of two.  I followed up and this time I had started to warm up and things felt much smoother.  The new arrivals who were still just mulling about watched on and afterwards we stopped for a bit of a chat to discuss the various lines here:

Today I was doing Craig’s job and had brought us a flask of tea.  So with three lines down we felt like it was a good time to pour a cuppa, and make sure Howsie didn’t burn out to quickly.  On the last few trips out he has only managed to bag two (or less!) 20s before his arms and stamina had given up.  This meant we stopped and looked about a bit more and we noticed a sure sign of the changing seasons.  The deciduous trees were covered in buds just starting to open up.  The new green foliage will no doubt be very welcome as things heat up, providing us with a bit of shade when we start to battle the heat instead of the cold:

As we looked about a bit more I started to take a few images of the magical patterns lichen makes.  Howsie told me how lichen are made of two plants that form a symbiotic or mutualistic relationship.  They are formed of both algae and fungi, the algae produces carbohydrates which the fungi make use of and the fungi provide a protective environment for the algae to live in.  They are very slow growing creeping outwards by 0.5mm a year and can live for up to 5,000 years.  Even more amazing is that it is estimated that 6% of the earth’s land surface is covered with them:

Next up was Savage Sausage Sniffer, and seeing the tea was piping hot we left the lids off so it could cool down and marched on.  Howsie had a bit of a stutter on this one near the top of the flake and I like to think that my words of encouragement along with reminders of where the better holds were helped him break through the maximum of two 20s a session barrier.  Number three was in the bag and on each route I pulled the rope and led after him, this was in part to help slow us down and give him a bit more recovery time:

The red tails could be heard afar for most of the morning, but for a fleeting moment they gave us a display as landed and then took off from the trees atop the quarry wall.  One of the other crew, who were still not climbing, also took advantage of the opportunity and got his camera out.  Despite them all being racked up there was not a rope was in sight.  They admitted to finding the climbing here “different” and quite sustained and difficult, and they are certainly not alone with that thought.  Finally as Howsie and I finished our cuppas and started up Shock Therapy they started to put a few top ropes up:

We both had a shock when both of us walked up Shock Therapy, leaving only one grade 20 left at the dam.  Loose Association was looking the least inviting of all of them, a rarely climbed route in the dry it looked even more ominous with water dripping down much of the line.  Half of the holds were covered in slime and despite his best efforts, getting past the first bolts was just too difficult with so many holds out of action.  So we decided to back off but not before I solo’d up to get the runner back and also witness just how horrible the holds were.  They were truly grim, and we made a good choice:

We still had time for a bit of fun and just as we had started Howsie looked at me expectantly, so it looked like I was going up first and he gave me a choice of two routes.  It was a quick decision, Taj vs The World won because it is technical, sustained, lots of fun and both Howsie and I really rate it.  As I inched upwards, holding onto and relishing the small insecure holds Howsie had to occasionally return the favour and remind me where the holds were.  It was, as always, brilliant and Howsie just couldn’t resist but to have a bash on lead himself while I experimented with a few new photo angles:

It was not until we were getting ready to pack up that the other crew finally started to put the top ropes to use.  There was no sense of urgency created by crazy challenges or limited timeframes.  Mind you even when we are not on a time limit there is still an air of desire to pack the lines in, or is that just when I am out there?  It was time to fill the cups again and hit the road for the journey home, with four out of five 20s in the bag.  A great session at the dam but it was time for us to leave the other crew to enjoy the pleasures of Welly Dam, who we found out were known as the Spider Monkeys:

On a lazy Sunday morning at 7:15, while most would be tucked up in bed, Howsie and Rongy had both followed me up Hope.  The forecast during the week had indicated that Sunday would be the better day to head out.  As it was Saturday was glorious and Lisa and I went for a long beach walk with the pooches, followed by lunch on the deck of the Parade Hotel in Bunbury overlooking the inlet all in sunshine.  In contrast as we drove down to Wilyabrup this morning it rained, and we were starting to wonder how we would fare:

As the abseil rope shows below there was a stiff wind cutting across the crag, it came from the south west and brought a chill with it.  The gneiss of Wilyabrup is quick to dry and Hope was in near perfect condition for me despite the early rain.  So Howsie decided the conditions were good enough to tick one more of the grade 20s on his list.  Progress on his challenge has been pretty slow over winter, but there is still another four months left in 2020 and hopefully he can bag all of them before the turn of the year.  The line he jumped on was Mid-Wall Crisis one that until recent times none of us had attempted:

It is a link up route between two other lines, and this results in the need to traverse between the two lines half way up the wall.  The start is reasonable with good trad, but it soon steepens up and while the first bolt seems tantalisingly close it is just out of reach until you leave the safety of the better holds.  This results in needing to hang of marginal holds to sort the gear, before a long reach out left to get the first, and best, hold of the traverse.  It’s a big reach and you have to fully load the left hand and tentatively move under it all the time trying to avoid from barn-dooring:

All the while on slopey feet to add to the excitement.  He made it to the narrow shelf, wide enough to get your hands on but not sporting any super positive holds.  The wall is overhung and that plus the marginal footholds, makes it a tough proposition.  It was plain to see in Howsie’s face that he was getting pumped.  The intended warmup route of Hope wasn’t really enough to get the blood flowing and body ready to jump on a strenuous line like this.  Eventually he fell off, about half way along the traverse.  Failing to get any gear in before his hands could take no more.  So back down he went to pull the rope, recover and have a second bash:

Take two was better he managed to get a piece of gear in along the traverse and didn’t hang about quite as much, conserving some strength.  But it wasn’t enough and he was soon straining in the face as he attempted to find the next piece of gear.  Sure enough he popped off again.  Both Rongy belaying, and me hanging off the face, were getting cold as Howsie sat in the harness mustering up the energy and confidence to jump back on.  This time he didn’t start from below, the opportunity to tick this line was gone but in the process he did work the moves and made a mental note of what gear goes where for next time:

Finally on top he was able to relax, and it was only then that he noticed what looked to be coming our way.  I was certainly aware of it, but I’m not sure if Rongy had cottoned on to it.  Belaying below he looked to be almost shivering, despite his down jacket.  If there is one thing sure to slow Rongy down and that is the cold.  I’ve had it before when it had been bitterly cold, and he was just not able to focus and get his body to work like it would normally when we are out climbing.  As he followed up he wasn’t looking too bad, but once we were all up he said he felt the need to dial it back for his lead:

So after making sure that the threat of rain had passed us by, which somehow it had.  That protective bubble we so often manage to luck was over us again today, diverting the rain both south and north of us.  Off he set up Inner Space, setting a much more relaxed pace.  But you get some days when you are just not feeling it, and his body movements and the way he was fiddling with the gear showed that today was one of those days.  The wind continued to cut across the face of the cliff, and the cold was seeping into his core.  The tired lethargic movements were all the tale tell signs Howsie and I needed to be on extra guard:

That said Rongy continued with the lead and while he may not have enjoyed it as much as he would normally, he did manage a clean and safe ascent.  I certainly enjoyed following up second and just before starting up was chatting to Howsie about how I might bump it up a notch for my second lead.  He too was eyeing up and pointing me towards Total Awesome just next to Inner Space.  While Howsie also managed to get up cleanly by the top headwall the tiredness from his first route was showing.  So I’m guessing that he may have been a bit relieved when he found out what my next lead would be:

Before we get to that and even before we rapped back down, here is a short interlude from climbing.  Howsie spotted and pondered on whose scat this may belong too.  At first he thought it may have been one of the king skinks that lives there.  While there were no signs of them, or sadly any carpet pythons, today that is not too say it wasn’t theirs.  However, after he starting to pull it apart, to investigate what it was made of, it became clear it was from an avian scat.  Small fragments of crab shells is what gave it away, although there was no guano which you might usually expect just this one neat little parcel:

In order to help Rongy warm up, and also give Howsie’s arms a bit more relief before his second lead we went round the corner.  The north facing wall was completely sheltered from the wind and it almost felt warm.  There isn’t anything too hard on this wall, and Rongy had suggested Tom Thumb direct finish, a climb I haven’t been on for a while.  So I was more than happy with the choice.  My memory told me that micro-wires were needed, but there were ample of small wire placements and I climbed it in probably the best fashion that I ever have.  The only issue being that it was probably a bit too short:

As I was belaying Howsie and then Rongy up my climb, Mick rocked up.  Until now we had the place all to ourselves and we thought, as had Mick, that the slightly unsettled weather would keep everyone else away.  He told us of all the crazy antics he had been witnessing here since the lock downs.  This included the tourists looking for that perfect Instagram image in precarious places and also newbie climbers fresh out of the gym and showing no signs of understanding the risks of outdoor climbing.  After a bit of banter we left him to set up his ropes for his clients and went down the far end:

After two lower grade routes, with one in more pleasant conditions out of the wind, Howsie was feeling confident again.  So he decided to have a crack at Pascals Route, sporting the new bolts placed by none other than Pascal himself.  A climb of two cruxes and several rests, it is also technical face climbing which suits Howsie’s style.  Despite looking very focused, you could tell he was in his element with this climb.  Smooth calm moves, no tension in the face and that meant no over gripping the holds:

It was a totally different Howsie.  He seemed to float up the first half of the route, and then as he moved off the jug before the crux sequence there was no hesitation in his deliberate and decisive movements.  Just a great big fat smile once he reached slabbier territory and the end was in sight.  That is now one more grade 20 in the bag.  Rongy followed up feeling much better than before.  The base of this wall was also protected from the wind, allowing him to warm up a bit more helping to improve his concentration and enjoyment of the great face climbing:

We rapped back down for one last climb, while Rongy was feeling more in-tune on the last route he stuck to his guns about which line he was going up.  It was a route that he had suggested I could have started on, which gives you a hint that it is not a silly grade.  That said it is a route that causes many people anxiety, as they battle up the first half of this very traditional style route.  Howsie and I were feeling some of that.  While we have both led the climb several times before this time we had the prospect of following up with packs:

Rongy just had his rope bag with a few bits in it, including his down jacket.  It was the first time he had taken it off today, a sure sign that he had warmed up.  The blue sky above indicates that it was a nice pleasant day, but the wind continued to whistle from the south west.  All the clouds and rain had been blown round our protective bubble, so at least the wind didn’t have that “it’s gonna rain” cold feel to it.  Rongy still didn’t look 100% on the route, as he slowly edged his way up the corner.  This was mostly due to being the first route that we encountered wet rock, water was seeping down the crack making it just that little bit uncomfortable:

Once past the corner and on the face above he was in the sun and on dry rock.  From here there was no stopping him and he made a quick beeline to the top, stopping occasionally to place some gear.  Howsie went up next and started to regret bringing his steel locking carabiners, as his bag weighed heavy on his back.  Finally I was roped up for the final leg of the morning.  Having a pack on certainly made a difference on this route and my legs were starting to burn as I held the bridging positions fiddling out the gear, and then trying to find my gear loops hidden under the waist strap of the pack:

There were no other climbers to be seen, other than Mick’s clients.  But as I started up the final route I noticed a bunch of tourists sat to my right, they must have just snuck up on us as I waited for Howie to top out.  Then when I joined the others above there were several more groups of tourists milling about snapping their Instagram images.  No doubt images that would draw even more of them to what used to be a quiet place.  I guess it is a good thing that more people are getting out and about, and we will just have to get used to the changing times:

It was that time of the year again when Craig can claim to be yet another year older.  And for some strange folks like us there is no greater gift we can give or hope to receive than a day out on rock.  It keeps things easy and there is none of this need or expectation for cards or presents, instead all I had to do was offer to take him out for a climb.  This year, more so in view of the weekend forecast looking grim we headed out on the big day itself.  This was also a weekday when Henry and Charlie would be at school, so it meant that they still had the weekend together.  After putting the plan in place earl in the week I didn’t check the forecast again until the night before and it had all changed, but we decided to head out anyway:

It has been a little while since Craig has been out, and even when he has he hasn’t done a lot of leading.  Today OI wanted to make sure he got on the pointy end and as such I was thinking to keep the grades reasonable.  While it may seem an unlikely option at Bobs Hollow, there are a surprising number of worthwhile routes up to grade 19, or low E1’s for the UK folk.  It was another walk-in during the early waking morning.  There was rain to the north and south but we had managed to score a patch of clear sky, allowing enough of the dawn light to seep through to be able to see without head torches:

As soon as we arrived we made a beeline to the southern end of the crag and Lovers Nuts.  Being the most protected and one of the lower grade routes it was an ideal way to start the morning.  Being in auto pilot I found myself racking up, and when I asked if Craig fancied leading he made comment about me being all racked up so I might as well go first.  Well as the images above show it didn’t take long for me to chuck the ten draws on his harness and send him up first.  There wasn’t too much resistance to the idea and while he got a bit of a flash pump he managed a clean ascent and he seemed to enjoy the lead even though he had no time to warm up:

The plan for today was for me to get Craig back to Busselton for 1pm, where he was going to be going out for a birthday lunch with his wife, Oyukha.  I knew that it was quite achievable as Rongy and I had managed a similar return time last weekend.  However, I also knew that we wouldn’t get as many routes in due to Craig’s climbing fitness and stamina not being where it once was.  He can still crank but with this steep stuff and my intention to get him leading would no doubt wear him down in a good way.  As such I had formulated a bit of a plan of how the day would pan out, which a little bit selfishly included not repeating too many routes from my trip here last weekend:

So it was that I climbed Unknown.  One of the lesser climbed routes of the place and one that is a bit of a mental challenge for me, due to a gnarly last few sequences to get up and over a huge cave.  That sequence always puts me on edge and when you get nervous you tend to over grip and waste valuable energy making things seem so much harder than they are.  Today’s ascent was no different, in fact it was worse.  The route finding was not immediately obvious and a couple of times I deviated off line and yo-yoing on these steep lines is not advisable.  I managed a clean ascent but was so pumped that it hurt, and as Craig lowered me back down it was a very slow descent and I was spinning round as the rope untwisted:

The combined effect of painful arms and the whirly decent started to make me feel a little queasy, and I was very thankful when my feet hit the ground.  It was only then the reason for the slow decent became apparent, the rope drag was horrendous.  I hadn’t noticed on lead, but maybe that had contributed to making it harder than it should have been.  We struggled to figure out why that was.  Yes there was a dog leg in the route near the top and thought maybe that was the reason but it really didn’t make any sense:

On Craig’s ascent he ducked into the big cave and tied off on one of the speleothems, a ceiling to floor pillar, so he could untie and to get rid of a huge twist in the rope.  While this may seem a strange thing to do he explained later that he didn’t fancy the spinning effect that would occur if he had fallen.  Craig had however been paying attention while belaying me and learnt from my mistakes.  This allowed him to follow the line proper, conserve his energy and manage a clean second.  When he rapped down the reason for the rope drag became more apparent, he was able to completely let go of the rope and he still came down at a very slow pace:

Today we were using his rope and while it has been stored appropriately, not coiled but flaked into a rope sack and kept dry, it was feeling a bit stiff.  It looked like new, hardly a sign of any wear, which is why when it was a bit rigid during belaying we had not paid it much attention.  Hopefully after a few routes it would start to flex up a bit, or at least that is what we hoped for.  The next route I had in mind, was a new line that Rongy had spied last weekend.  As we stood below it Oyukha called.  Plans were changing and the lunch date was off, so could we instead pick the boys up from school.  This meant two more hours of climbing:

We looked up at the new climb and Craig wasn’t sure the start was very overhung, almost horizontal.  It then went up another very steep section before tackling the headwall on which there looked two be two lines.  The easier top line looked to continue along a traverse out left to the belay anchors.  Looking at the guide I now know is the traverse of Mixed Grill.  That meant the route is likely to be at least 22, and I feel the decision we made not to try it was sensible.  Rongy will be pleased to hear that as I know he is very keen to jump on it next time, and I reckon that the alternative top section which goes direct to the belay anchors will be somewhat harder:

With more time up our sleeves we decided to ease the pace and climb the two easiest routes at Bobs Hollow.  Unlike the rest of the steep climbs these are proper slabs.  My memory of them being that they were very sharp.  But after some of the routes I did on my last trip these didn’t feel that bad, or maybe they had seen a lot of ascents and the sharpness had been worn out of them.  Regardless of that Craig enjoyed leading up Export Bogans, which we both agreed is pleasant but somewhat over graded.  As he climbed I was being distracted by the water beading on the bright red Templetonia retusa flowers, or coral bush as it is more commonly called:

I got Craig to jump on first to lead both of the routes here and next up was Clever Trevor, the slightly steeper of the two lines.  Neither stumped Craig but this one was certainly a bit more interesting and made him stop of a moment to think at the crux.  This was at some of the flowstone features that makes for interesting and unusually climbing, which Craig said he really enjoyed.  This one is graded more reasonably but comparing it to the other routes here is probably still at least a grade easier than the guide suggests.  I enjoyed the relaxed amble on these so much that I also down climbed them, something that I didn’t even contemplate on the harder lines:

Now as many will know, you can’t get out with Craig without a flask being taken.  We had always intended to have a tea break, Craig’s arms would need it and today after the second route I felt like mine would also need it.  And seeing we had more time to kill we rationed the hot brew to ensure there was enough left for a second reasonably sized cuppa later on.  While it didn’t look threatening we stashed our bags high up in the main cave to avoid them getting unnecessarily wet.  It was a room with a view and very comfy, so we spent some time just kicking back:

Since we had arrived clouds were looming all around us but we seemed to have managed to secure a pocket of mostly blue sky.  This was in part assisted by the winds being low and the banks of rain to the north, south and west of us had never looked too close.  It seemed like we were in a protective bubble created by the blue sky hovering above us.  This also resulted in us seeing lots of rainbows of all shapes and intensities, including double rainbows.  Some were just fragments like below and other stretched their vibrant colours across the sky in perfect arches:

As we sat and drank our tea I was getting more relieved that Craig wasn’t overly keen on the new route.  We had a clear view of it from our stance and the final wall looked to be slightly overhanging, so I feel it is likely to be a pretty intense route.  The upper wall offered a steep blank looking left variant or right variant that may look easier but then finished with the leftward traverse that I knew from past experience on Mixed Grill would be super pumpy.  Craig was however keen to try something a bit harder than the routes so far so we moved to the northern end of the crag.  Scanning the lines I suggested a couple of them, both of which Rongy had led last weekend:

He plumped for the slightly harder line of Constructive Vandalism at grade 21, in the E2 range.  With big holds and reachy moves we both felt that it suited his stature and style.  However, as soon as he set up I heard whimpering’s of the rock being wet and everything felt slimy and hard.  With much encouragement by me, and far more back talk from Craig than I am used too, I encouraged him to dog his was up to the fourth bolt.  By then he was well and truly done, I could tell he really did want to get back down and it was no longer fun:

I pulled the rope, feeling confident that it wouldn’t be that bad.  After all, last weekend when I climbed it Rongy’s words were “you cruised up that”.  The moves just fell into place and nothing felt hard, I hardly had to think about it.  The first bolt was OK and yes there was dampness nothing too bad, but after that while you couldn’t see water running or dripping off the rock it was soaking wet.  The water was literally seeping out of the rock and it was horrendous.  Hats off to Craig for getting as far as he did and in better style than I did, I think he found a bit of very deserved satisfaction from watching me struggle more than he did at the crux.  Needless to say when I eventually got to the fourth bolt we bailed:

With a better idea of how to read the rock from below it became clear that most of the lines at the northern end were seeping water.  It wasn’t coming from above and it certainly was coming from rainfall, as it had been dry the whole morning.  We could only conclude that it had come to that part of winter where the groundwater from above was starting to express through the rock.  I wonder if Rongy and my trip last weekend may have been the last opportunity for dry rock in this area of Bobs Hollow:

It was an easy choice of what to do next.  While I had been thinking to try Magnus the Robot Fighter that too looked to be seeping, so we walked by and headed back the sun bathed southern area.  Craig pondered as to whether he was up for the crag classic of Shaved Cats, and came to the conclusion that after four and half routes he wouldn’t be able to do it justice.  So I repeated a line from last week and went for Escalade De Rasoir.  It felt great to be on dry rock again, and as Craig was getting ready to climb I got a message from Howise that they had spotted our car:

We later found out that they had started to walk towards the crag but Fergus and Frank had had enough half way along, which was fair enough.  It may also have had something to do with the clouds inching their way towards us.  Craig thoroughly enjoyed the route, the delicate and technical nature of the climb was just his style and perfectly dry.  However, the super sharp rock did mean that a fall on this route would be pretty painful and he openly admitted he wouldn’t have been up to leading it.  Coming down he indicated that we could rap things up, but I had other ideas:

We still had plenty of time before we needed to pick Henry and Charlie up from school so, and seeing how Craig had earlier mentioned how much he liked climbing those flowstone features I had one more line in mind for him to follow up.  I was also keen as it had been mostly quite sunny this morning with minimal wind.  You may be wondering why that is relevant, well it meant is was warm and I quietly hoped warmed enough for carpet python.  I have come across them quite a few times on this line, just lying there soaking up the rays of the sun:

It was not to be today but the route was fun as always, except for the traverse.  Like the first climb the rope drag was really bad, I knew it was not the bolting as last weekend when I led it there was no drag.  Today however I had to work hard and yank the rope through before making each move, and again being lowered it was a slow affair.  It seemed that Craig’s rope, while it had been fine on the direct lines we had done it really didn’t like anything that snaked about.  Craig followed up Juggernaut with ever tiring arms, as the rain started to encroach:

The sky didn’t open until he was safely at the rap station.  As a few drops started to fall I scampered off to the protection of our base camp high in the big cave.  It was now time to have that second cuppa.  So I poured them and sat back in the dry as he got himself ready for one last slow abseil.  I could see the rain bank getting closer and closer and the flood gates opened as he was half way down.  It felt like we had squeezed the most we could have out of the weather window that had lingered above Bobs Hollow today:

We still weren’t in any rush, so sat back to drink a very welcome second cuppa.  As we looked out at the amazing view the rain passed over followed by sun.  This allowed some of the gear to dry just a bit before we had to stuff into our packs.  Eventually we could stall no more and as I coiled the offending rope it still felt pretty ridged.  It was a good thing that while the rope had been stiff as a board Craig had not felt that way.  We had managed to bag six great dry lines of which he led three, not forgetting the half a lead on a sopping wet climb, on a day that most wouldn’t have even consider heading out to climb on:

I really don’t know how we lucked it, but the walk out was in sun.  We took a much more leisurely stroll that the last power-walk march out of here with Rongy.  A relaxed 45min walk, as opposed to a 30min stealth mission.  This allowed more time to observe things and that included all the borrows all along the footpath.  Piles of dark sand mounded up with a distinct hole in the middle.  I wasn’t sure what had made them, and then we came across a bug that was in the early stages of attempting to bury itself in the middle of the path.  Maybe this was the guilty critter?  To avoid it getting trampled on we moved it off the path, allowing me to get a close look:

It is a beetle larvae and checking online I wonder now if it is a cockchafer beetle, which is in fact an introduced pest.  Despite the inclement weather, as we made the return leg we still passed a few people out for a walk.  Like them we stopped on several occasions to admire the spectacular views.  We finally strolled up to the car and on the drive back there was enough time to pick up a feed and do a couple of errands in Busselton, before picking Henry and Charlie up from school.  The change of plan that Oyukha had mentioned before was for Craig and the family to head out for a birthday dinner, and after such a long day out I hope he didn’t fall asleep at the table:

Normally on my early drives to Capel, to meet up with whoever is mad enough to endure an early start, I need to look out for roos.  Today I didn’t see any, but I did come across a couple of escaped cows.  Being a lot easier to spot and also much slower there was no danger of running into them.  After this unexpected encounter I carried on and found Rongy already waiting in the carpark.  He promptly threw his pack on the backseat, and we set off on our way down south:

We parked up by the entrance to the Cape to Cape walk track near Contos campsite.  Here I fiddled about putting my walking boots, beanie and buffalo on.  While I have been managing very well, the ankle is still and will never be fully healed.  So seeing we were going to walk along the rocky track in the dark, my sandals stayed in the car.  I did this a month or so back when I did the same walk, again in the dark, with Howsie, Alan and Andrew.  First light crept in as we got closer and by the time we arrived the sky was starting its journey through the morning hues:

You can probably tell that I was back at Bob’s Hollow.  I have to admit to have really enjoyed the steep juggy climbing last time I came down, so was quite happy when Rongy suggested this place.  Truth be told many years back I would have thought of every reason possible not to sport climb up steep jugs, but I’ve warmed to it and that old adverseness I had to this style are a distance memory.  We started on the route that I had contemplated climbing on the last trip, but time had got away from us then:

Above Rongy was coming up second after I had led Juggernaut, as the sun was cresting over the landmass and starting to hit the waves that were crashing over the reef out to sea.  A good warm up climb, nothing too silly and some fun exposed moves.  It was pretty windy and bitterly cold and being rugged up helped, but while we were standing still belaying it felt like we were in a blast chiller.  Somehow any warmth was sucked out of our bodies, despite the layers we had on:

For Rongy’s warm up he chose Shaved Cats.  Sorry Howsie.  Yes we did bag a couple of the grade 20s on this trip that you are eyeing off, but I can promise you that we didn’t knock any holds off.  He took his time climbing doing what I view as his usual impressive shaking out at every opportunity and never looking to get pumped.  But the time spent belaying left me getting colder and colder, and by the time I had to follow up my body felt uncoordinated and my mind wasn’t fully focused.  I managed to get up but even after I came down I was still cold:

Above I just couldn’t resist a picture of the arum lilies, they were thick especially underneath the low scrubby trees.  They are known as the funeral flower.  Here they are an invasive introduced species that is said to be bring death to the wildflowers in the south west of Western Australia.  The evidence was clear to see.  The a blanket of broad lush green leaves with white flowers were suffocating anything that might want to try and grow below them.  Depriving them of light and probably sucking all the water out of the soil.  I digress and also seem to not be keeping up with the images:

We decided to move to the more protected northern end of the crag and it was a good move, here that icy wind couldn’t reach us.  In my cold state I still went for the route that I had my eye on, Magnus the Robot Fighter.  Above Rongy is setting up the rap after he came up second in a clean and stylish manner.  I have only been on this route once before, with Kym many years back, and failed at the on-sight with only the final moves left to go.  Today was no better, in fact it was worse.  As the day wore on and taking into account how I climbed every other route, we came to the conclusion that I really should have tried to warm up a bit more before jumping on it:

No stress these things happen, and I’ll jump on it again next time.  Above Rongy is just about to reach the first bolt of Constructive Vandalism.  As we were driving down there was lofty talk of all these hard lines that would be great to jump on.  But while he had been climbing Shaved Cats he wasn’t shaking out just to practice, he was getting pumped.  While he styled up my second climb, he put it down to not being on lead and also having watched me to know how to get through the crux without wasting energy, which I had done.  So now his arms were feeling it and hence a more moderate lead was in order:

Above is an image of some of the natives that were out in bloom and due to being established shrubs they were able to compete against the arum lilies.  It is a bit strange how I can tell you the names of the invasive introduced species but I have no idea what the names of these amazing natives are.  Hopefully Howsie can help me out with identifying them, when we come back here so he can polish off the grade 20s.  Rongy was again looking tried but managed a clean ascent.  On this trip it seemed he was getting more tried as I was feeling stronger.  So I climbed the other route that he had contemplated, but not gone for due to its scarier very steep finish:

As you can see I was up to my usual belaying antics.  Allowing me to get some good images while Rongy was on second, as above as he was approaching “the roof” on Black Lung.  This of course continued when he was on lead or at least until he had clipped the first bolt, and at times for some of the easier lines after that as well.  Despite the tired arms he remained motived and willing.  So while he may have wanted to bag a harder line or two he ended up sensibly choosing Right Fin and it was a good move.  He had just enough gas in the tank to get a clean lead:

Like I said I was feeling pretty good and up for another challenge, some might say a bit more excitement.  So again sorry Howsie, but I led Thesis Feast.  As I was halfway up this route I heard voices, and finally others were coming to climb here.  In some ways we were surprised and others not.  The weather was forecasts to hit in the late afternoon and evening, which we thought would put people off.  But that said Bob’s is more like gym climbing than anywhere else and for that reason a lot of people like it and come here:

Howsie I can tell you now that the left hand sequence I unlocked last time definitely works, but it didn’t work for Rongy.  Maybe because he is at a slight disadvantage to you and I, being somewhat challenged in the perpendicular.  Or maybe it was because he was getting more and more tired.  While we were seemingly having a rest between climbs to avoid burning out, we were not going slow.  In fact we were completing each line in half an hour, you could almost set a watch by our progress.  Rongy came down weary but determined to even things up, for which we moved away from the other climbers and back into the wind:

Being later in the morning we didn’t feel the cold anywhere near as much as before.  He had chosen the very well named Escalade De Rasoir.  Sharp holds to bite into the skin of your fingers, and you might say that was not a good move for the last climb of the day.  However, unlike the other climbs it is not as steep and as such you can keep more of your weight on your feet and not have to subject your fingers hanging hard on the sharp holds.  It was actually a great way to end the session.  Delicate, technical and very enjoyable climbing.  We both savoured the warm down route and took our time soaking in each moves and position.  I even hung about at the top for quite a while longer than necessary, just taking it all in:

The crew of two had increased to a crew of four, who you might be able to make out in the image above.  And while they were just getting into their climbing it was time for me to rap down one last time, so we could end our session.  With eight fine routes under our belt there were no regrets as we walked passed them and continued on the path out.  As we walked along the Cape to Cape walk track, another group of climbers were walking in.  While they didn’t have to brave the early morning cold, both Rongy and I agreed that next time we come here we wouldn’t change things and again walk in when it is the dark:

One last image of Bob’s Hollow, the walk out seemed to be quite a bit longer than the walk in.  Our legs were feeling it.  It was just past midday when we were finally back at the car, and we were final able to sit back and rest.  Knowing where we were coming Rongy and I must have had the same thought, as we had packed our bags for the morning session.  The climbing is that bit more draining than at other places, so we both knew we would deserve a treat on the way back.  So it was that as we drove home we savoured the taste sensation of crisps and chocolate bars: