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:

Having recently finished his business course Steve was keen to get out, and when he posted about it Alan and I jumped at the chance to assist Steve in achieve that goal.  Then during our weekly plastic pulling session on my boulder wall I thought I had managed to convince Geoff to also venture out to real rock.  So it was that the four of us were to head out to somewhere with a good variety of low to mid-grade routes to ease Steve and Geoff back into it.  Moses was talked about, as was Lost Buttress but with another 4m swell forecast for today the risk of wet rock was too high:

That along with the fact that Geoff and then Steve pulled out, due to in-laws arriving and a suspected gum infection rearing its ugly head respectively, we changed our plans.  Alan picked me up in darkness from my home.  As we drove out debating whether roo bars were worthwhile a car came at us with its high beams blinding us… just as a roo jumped out.  We are still not sure how we managed to avoid the roo but we did.  Alan’s senses were immediately heightened, and I’m not sure they ever truly settled down. Eventually we pulled into the Wilyabrup carpark and I’d already decided on what to start with, even though Alan didn’t think I was being Sirius:

He peered up to check out the second pitch of the route that I had suggested he take on, and I was expecting he would lead both pitches of course.  He has never been on the second pitch, and I believe he has only ever been on the first pitch once and I’m not sure if all those seven or eight years back that he had led it.  The second pitch is out of sight from below, so he just had to trust me and so it was that he set off up the first pitch, asking what I believed to be some strangely obvious questions.  This included do I follow the crack, which is the only place with gear of which he placed abundant amounts:

It was slightly greasy but we were hopeful it would dry off as the morning wore on.  This did means the start was that bit more intense, holding onto greasy holds placing gear and as I alluded to above more gear than usual.  Within five meters he was shaking out, the flash pump had hit him.  It took him ages to get up the crack and then to tetter across into the first move of the traverse.  I didn’t mention anything, but knew that the traverse was the crux and with the way he was climbing at such a slow pace, with pumped arms and Elvis legs, there was every chance he would fall:

The camera was put down and I focused on him, even moving closer the wall in view of Alan carrying close to 15kg more than me.  He inched his way across the traverse, placing gear where he could, while trying to steady his dancing legs and shake out the pump in his arms that never seemed to relent.  That plus the greasy rock making him want to, but not necessarily need to, hold on that bit harder.  It was a nervous belay and no doubt even more nervous lead, eventually reached the crux moves at the end of the traverse.  He went up once and back down and then again and somehow managed to pull it off!  It was an impressive lead, even more so considering it had taken close to 45min:

The first pitch doesn’t have any real rests, so it is fair to say that I found Alan at the belay ledge looking on edge.  His arms were tired but he was mentally shattered, was it the near miss during the drive or the near fall on the lead, or just an accumulation of it all.  Regardless of the reason it was time to sit back and enjoy the above view to calm down and prepare himself.  After all the whole reason for this route was so he could on-sight the second pitch.  But before he set off he had a go at getting some crag booty out, and the small black diamond nut popped out with minimal effort.  It was then put back in where it came from as his fits piece before he set off again:

The second pitch is much more relaxed, more of a slab so there is not the need to hang off your arms as much.  It does however require you to step round the arête into the abyss with a straight 30m drop below your feet all the way to the deck.  In his current mental state I thought that might make him freak out, but he took it in his stride and made much shorter work of this pitch and confessed to have stopped at a few places to enjoy the exposure and scenery.  He still however felt tired and so I offered to take the third lead putting forward a couple of suggestions:

Now while he was tried, for those that know Alan, that doesn’t stop him, as such I led up the pumpy direct start of Waterfall Second Folly.  The rounded holds on the overhung part were not as inspiring as they can be, the rock was still greasy and the humidity felt like it was hanging heavy in the air.  He came up after me and his arms were showing signs of still being very tired, but he also said that this is exactly what he needs to be doing.  Climbing steeper and pumpier routes to get used to it and build his stamina:

I think anyone else would have bailed after that route, but seeing he was still keen despite feeling weary I offered to take on a second lead.  Again I offered a few options and he plumped for, and I was glad that he did, The Unbolted and the Beautiful.  Above, despite the rock starting to dry up, the crux moves gave him some grief,.  He was trying to work out where to go as his arms refused to pull the moves over the steep bulge.  After a rest on the ledge below he cranked over the bulge and continued upwards, his face contorted at the tricky sections as he dug deeper and deeper into his reserves:

To be honest I was already prepared to pack up and head out, he was weary but his determined nature got the better of him and he decided that he should jump on Glory next.  So off he set up the start, avoiding placing any gear in the start of Hope before traversing across to the roof.  With one piece of gear under the roof he started to pull up and then came back down, second shot he managed to get over the roof and I knew from here easier ground awaited.  I was really pleased he did jump on this line as when he got to the first flake he shouted down that the carpet python was back:

Progress was slow and getting slower, there were frequent times where he didn’t move and he was placing lots of gear.  Doubling up at places where I’m sure he wouldn’t normally need to, so I waited patiently feeding the rope out watching him second guess himself at numerous times.  Eventually he pulled over the top and started to set up the belay, again taking it slow.  The idea was for me to follow up with a pack and then we would come back down and I’d lead up a final route so he could carry the second pack up.  As I followed up I was already thinking about how this would now pan out:

As always the gear was solid, and maybe the ten or was it more pieces was overkill but when the mind needs reassurance that’s what you do.  I stopped at the snake buried deep behind the first flake (above), and could just make out it’s centimetre long head.  Then at the second flake there was a much larger python, too big to get its whole body in the crack but with both its head and tail protected by being buried deep in the crevice out of sight.  It’s been a while since I’ve seen a snake on the line and I can’t recall ever seeing two, needless to say I was very happy:

When I got to him Alan was looking worn out.  He confessed that he hadn’t enjoyed the lead as much, almost as if he regretted not stopping after the fourth route.  No matter I had already formulated my plan, and offered to rap back down so he could belay me up as I carried the second pack up Hope.  I could see him seriously think about it for a moment, but then opting to come down as well.  Later he confessed that if had taken up my offer he knew I would have written about it so everyone would know, and he simply couldn’t allow that.  So we set up the anchors and rapped down, and at the base I decided it would be best for me to take the pack on lead so I headed up one last time:

As Alan topped out he flopped on the ledge and finally said he was done, he was mentally and physically exhausted.  I was a little surprise to hear that in the last month he has packed in more consecutive leading than he has ever done.  But that wasn’t the only reason for being exhausted, work being one and he is also getting back into shape.  For Alan that means ridiculous amounts of running, cycling, bouldering, etc. every day.  We talked about how he has maybe been overdoing it just a touch, and then in the next breathe he tells me of his plan to try and bag the six main peaks of the Stirling Ranges in one day.  Well I’ve put it out there now so Alan you are going to have to do it, or fess up to everyone why you won’t:

It was time to head back to an old favourite, and Rongy was keen to join in the fun when Alan and I started to lay the plans for a morning foray at Moses Rocks.  The times got mucked about with, and there was a bit of banter as the plans were rearranged via WhatsApp.  This led to a bit of a mix up with me waiting in Capel and Alan and Rongy waiting at the bottom of our driveway in Peppy Beach.  The departure wasn’t delayed by too much and as a plus it resulted in us not needing to pull out the head torches.  First light was breaking through when we started our walk to the crag, instead of as we started to climb, which had been the plan:

Despite the last few days of easterlies, a rough swell had resulted in the crag being pretty wet.  But unlike the rock at Wilyabrup, the next cliff to the south and visible from where we were climbing, Moses can cope with moisture and the excellent friction makes it possible to climb even in wet conditions.  The reason for a trip to Moses was mainly to head somewhere different with low to mid-grade routes that would be suitable for Alan to continue getting back into leading.  It felt a bit rough to throw him onto the sharp end for the first climb, both in view of the wet conditions and different rock and hence climbing style here:

So Rongy was the first to see just how wet it was, he led us up the left hand side of Many Hands a climb that offers up two independent lines.  While never too hard it did require us to pull out and dust of our slab techniques, trusting nothing but friction for some of the footholds and many of the hand holds being slopey.  A far cry from the more positive holds that are usually found at Wilyabrup.  This certainly made Alan work that bit harder, he has not had a huge amount of slab climbing experience but was going to have to learn pretty quickly:

I led the second route up Gothic Streak.  This is the first climb I ascended on my arrival in Western Australia.  I soloed it as Lisa was reading and Elseya, at not quite 3 years old, was sleeping in the car back at the carpark.  Today it lived up to its name, the black streak a sure sign of where water runs down the crag on a more regular basis.  The black patches were feeling slimy and a little nervous, but there were plenty of opportunities to work round the worse areas.  Alan had intended to lead this route, and seemed thankful not to have after following up after me:

It was however his lead next, and we encouraged him to have a bash at the right hand side of Many Hands.  As we rapped down he was checking the line for gear, claiming there was none.  It didn’t take much for us to convince him to just try it and that he did.  Still learning the required slab techniques, he slipped at the crux and took a decent lead fall onto a bomber tricam.  After that he seemed to have greater confidence and he polished the rest the route off, placing no less than seven or was it eight bomber pieces of gear on the ten meter route:

The conditions did not seem to be improving, the wind had turned to a northerly from which this face was protected.  Great to keep us out of the blustery conditions while climbing, but not so good for allowing the rock to dry.  It did not deter us and we kept climbing, Rongy opted for Johnny Fartpants, a line that I personally feel is over-graded and after bagging a few lines of similar grades today I would still hold that opinion.  It is however a great consistent route that offered more slab practice for Alan, at several grades higher than the first three routes:

Rongy made short work of it, gliding up the rock effortlessly, which is exactly how you should climb slabs.  It is all about balance, technique, body position and control.  There should be no slapping for holds or yarding on crimps or jugs, it’s all in the footwork and very different to just about all other styles of climbing.  I think Alan surprised himself when he managed a clean ascent, keeping his focus at the crux and controlling his nerve just long enough to avoid losing his balance and simply slipping off.  Then for my second route I had to pull my big boy trousers on and went for Victor and His Boa Constrictor:

Now you may be wonder where some of these weird and wonderful route names come from.  Many but not all of the routes on this wall are in fact names of characters in an old UK comic called Viz.  Definitely not a politically correct comic, but one I used to read in my misspent youth and I still think it is pretty funny today.  If you are not easily offended and like some slap stick humour I’d recommend you check it out online.  The first gear on this chosen route is a bolt 4-5m off the deck.  It is probably fair to say that you have to tackle the entire crux sequence before you can reach it.  Regardless of that it does work, and today it felt really good:

Alan indicated that he wouldn’t follow up the line, but we convinced him he should and he manage it without any trouble.  This did mean that his noodle arms were starting to feel the five routes, and this made him nervous as we were keen to throw him on the crag classic Wheely Things for his second lead.  This offers true crack climbing, and if you can’t climb cracks it feels soooo much harder than it should.  Alan confessed to not being very adept at jamming, but he definitely got stuck into it on this route and did really well considering the conditions.  As we come to expect he was never in any danger, with gear that you could hang a car off being placed all the way up this magical line:

It felt just that bit too early to leave, and so we decided to hit another very good crack climb called Cornish Nasty.  The name is a bit unjust, as this route is clean, beautifully sustained and is, despite appearances, well protected.  To climb it in the best style, by which I mean efficiently and without expending lots of energy, you have to embrace the crack and bury yourself in it, making use of all of your body.  This allows you to make the most unlikely reaches and moves in a relatively stable and comfortable position:

There are of course times that it is not possible to bury yourself in the crack, i.e. where it narrows, which is also where it starts to overhang.  The jams are still there if you take the time to look for them, and by using these the grade holds.  Like slab climbing, crack climbing is an art in itself, one that some climbers would call the dark arts.  Rongy showed us the path through this dark passage, but really there is nothing dark about this route and like so many others here it is worthy of far more attention than what it gets:

The crack ends below a steep final headwall, and the finishing moves on this route put you right out there.  With gear below your feet, slopey holds and a featureless top with nothing you can pull yourself over with.  It wasn’t until the very last move that Alan’s noodle arms finally gave up on him.  But he had certainly shown some true grit and thrown himself at both the slab and crack climbing that some of us relish at Moses.  Others are known to shy away from this place because of the climbing style, but if that keeps the place a bit quieter that is all good with me:

Despite feeling like his arms could do no more, I weighed up whether to jump on Fat Slags or Hands Up.  The former would have been the hardest route of the day, and Rongy and I felt that would be pretty unfair on Alan, so I went with the latter and being a slab didn’t require arm strength.  Hands Up is however probably the most continuously flared crack you will find here, gear is interesting to place and even more interesting to trust.  There are no really positive holds and you have to stay focused, which we did to finish the day off.  Although I thought I heard Alan mumble something about probably not ever attempting to lead that last route:

Rongy was very happy to take and keep his climbing shoes off, his feet had been complaining for the last few climbs.  They are not cragging shoes being a bit too technical and tight in the wrong spots to keep on for long periods.  Alan was also happy to call it a day his arms, legs and body in general were telling him it was time to quit.  So we sorted the gear in the howling wind, and watched the crashing waves for a little longer.  The others were probably, but I was certainly, hoping to see a dolphin or two.  But alas despite regularly looking out to sea it never did happen, maybe the swell and waves today were just that bit too rough for them to come in close:

The tide certainly seemed high, and the main beach and little bay that we walk along were all the evidence we needed that the sea had been hungry today and probably over the last few days or weeks.  The water reached further up the beach than usual and had washed away massive amounts of sand, and had stripped almost all of it away from the usually sandy small bay (above).  On the road back there was a need to replenish the energy levels, so a pit stop at the Carbanup River store was in order.  This resulted in us continuing the journey home munching on well-deserved pies, chips and pork crackling, which boys washed down with fresh coffee:

I rolled into Howsie’s driveway at the agreed time, and he came out through the gate staring at me and the wet windscreen with an expectant look.  It had been dry for most of the morning, until an hour before I was due to head out.  Driving into Bunbury to pick him up it had been steadily raining and by now the roads were soaked.  He soon however got the message that we would still be heading up the hill.  There has been a few trips to Welly Dam for me recently, but in these unsettled conditions it is a very convenient spot to take a chance.  As we rolled into the empty carpark at a little while after midday the roads were already starting to dry and Mr Blue Sky was making every effort possible to find the cracks in the cloudy sky:

Howsie had come up here just yesterday with Nadia, Fergus and Frank.  Fergus was keen to try his new binoculars to spot some birds, but for the three quarter of an hour walk they had gone on it had rained.  They had popped into the quarry and every wall was soaking, which is one of the reasons Howsie had been wondering if I was still serious about going up.  I offered to take first lead and wanted to redeem myself on Raging Torrent, which I managed to do after my last efforts trying to follow Rongy up this line.  It was however this time, amongst a bunch of other climbs dry.  Then for the second route, Victim of Authority, Howsie found himself heading up towards Mr Blue Sky who had managed to dispel most of the clouds:

For my second route I had intended to have a bash at Flight Simulator, but the top was running with water and we both agreed it was a dumb idea.  So instead it was time to try Slay Away.  During the worse COVID period, for our area, I managed to pull a hold off the crux while top-rope soloing this route.  It was the first time I had been on it since, and I had to try the crux sections several times, each time I down climbed back to the same position which really doesn’t give you any rest.  With arms burning I managed to unlock a new sequence on the third attempt and then kept going.  Where possible I hung onto the bigger holds shaking out, in my mind thinking about how Rongy had done this during his great lead of T3 the week before:

Howsie also had to work the crux sequence.  Being that bit lankier than me he was able to miss out a move or two, but his arms still felt like they had been worked hard.  It was still his lead next and as he sat on the boulder trying to get the blood to flow through them and reduce the pump, all I could see were the dark clouds forming in the background.  Mr Blue Sky was being pushed to the background again, and the air temperature was starting to drop.  As he had come down from Slay Away I’d somehow managed to convince him to leave the draws on the top anchors, preplace all the draws and then pull the rope on Ear of Fear:

So with the clouds rolling in there was only one thing for it, jump back on the rock and get up that route.  It was again time to climb up and then back down at the crux, with his arms still tired from the previous route.  I’m glad to say he stuck the heady crux moves on the second go and then moved up with an increasing number of groans and sighs. A sure sign that he was getting more and more worn out.  He finally got to the top, later admitting to feeling like he was going to pop off the wall several times.  While he was very happy to be back down and rest his arms, there was no time to waste and he put me on belay, as Mr Blue Sky was showing no sign of working his magic.  As I got to the top the rain came in:

You’d think that was it for our quick dash up the hill, but after we had crammed everything in the car ready to head out Mr Blue Sky was forcing his way back to us.  The clouds broke and so we pulled out the essential gear and headed to Murky Corner.  Each time the sun had hit this corner we had looked over and the water running down made it look really pretty.  For some reason it had been calling out to be climbed since we got there.  So I found myself tip-toeing up from dry patch to dry patch, occasionally needing to trust a wet hold.  Half way up the seepage started to concentrate and veered off to the right, and above it was nothing but beautiful sunbathed dry rock:

It felt only right to jump on one last quick route, so I pointed Howsie to Old School.  Like Rongy and Andrew last week he also wasn’t sure if he had ever climbed it, which again surprised me.  He started up the slab in glorious sun but the clouds were again rolling towards us, blotting out Mr Blue Sky once again.  Howsie relished the route and was very pleased to have squeezed in just one more lead.  I quickly followed up and as we stuffed the gear in the car just in time before the rain again started to fall.  This time it poured down and there were no breaks in sight, so we rolled out leaving the empty carpark as we had found it:

I should start this with a happy birthday to Andrew!  He put out a post to say he was heading up to Welly Dam for a climb and BBQ on his birthday and he managed to bag a magical day.  Being his birthday he suggested a 9am start time, which was pretty sensible as even at that time as I rolled into the carpark it was only 4 degrees.  No one else was about so I took a stroll to check out the dam from a few angles that I have not before looked at it.  The reservoir stretches out for miles, in fact Wellington Dam is the largest dam in the South West and the second largest in Western Australia:

Built way back in 1932 the aim was to create jobs both in building it and then supplying water for agricultural land on the coastal plain.  Being fed by the massive catchment of the Collie River it has in more recent times fallen foul of the release of salt from the upstream catchment that feed it.  This is a result of the upstream agriculture, it is a bit ironic that the water supply for agriculture is being tarnished by the activity of agriculture.  While this mighty reservoir with a capacity of 186,000 gigalitre (almost 75,000 Olympic sized swimming pools) is turning salty, the same could not be said for Andrew.  After all today was his birthday:

The gathering was not just about the climbing but also a social, and as such Andrew soon appeared with Lachy and Rhianna closely followed by Rongy and Alana.  The last time I was here happened to be with Rongy, and the walls were all dripping wet.  Today while many parts looked similarly soaked there was a lot more dry rock than last time opening up more options.  Despite that and due to the big walls being in the shade and cold we opted to play on the carpark slabs in the warm sun.  These don’t offer lots of routes but enough to have a bit of fun:

Rongy started on Irish Stew a mixed route with one bolt and a horizontal break in which you would normally place a bit of trad gear.  As it was we didn’t have any trad gear with us, so he climbed the last few meters with extra care and caution so as not to risk the ground fall.  As we climbed here the non-climbers found comfy perches on the rocks to the side of the slab.  Content to sit in the warm sun with their books and technology.  After Irish Stew it was time for Old School, which I was staggered to hear that neither Andrew nor Rongy could recall ever climbing:

When Kym and I marked the bolts they were placed to allow two routes to be created.  The tricky and thin slab to the left called B Young, and the arête to the right which is what we climbed.  I did offer the lead up to the other two seeing they hadn’t done it before, but they both declined.  It’s a great line if you only use the arête for hand holds keeping your feet on the main face.  It is unfortunately all too easy to escape to the right, which makes it way too easy.  Seeing it was Andrew’s birthday we did allow him to have a rest by doing this, but I refused to allow him to not complete the sequence up the wall itself.  Each time he slipped off I would lower him back down, much to his disgust.  He did to his credit finally link all the moves:

Mark turned up just as we were finishing off on the little slab.  Rongy and Mark had not met before, which is true for many people on our SW climbers WhatsApp group despite the group having been going for a good number of years now.  After a quick and customary socially distanced introduction Mark jumped on the end of the rope and caught up with our tally by climbing up a couple of lines up the slab.  As he was on the second climb Steve drove in with Leanne, but we had already decided it was time to brave the cold and Rongy and Andrew had already made their way over into the darkness:

Andrew was belaying Rongy up Pocket Knife, a climb we had considered on the last trip here but it was running with water.  The route is a reasonable grade that the others could sensibly have a crack at.  When Mark and I joined them in the cold we plumped for A Walk in Central Park, right next to the others so we could keep the social banter going.  While it was colder than being in the sun, it wasn’t too bad and the rock also felt reasonable to touch.  We weren’t alone today and a crew of four other climbers had turned up, somehow we had all managed to congregate in the same area but the chit chat between the two groups was limited once we were done with our two lines we moved on:

Steve decided that he too wanted to enjoy a bit of rock in the sun, and Andrew and Mark were quick to say they liked the idea.  So they set off back into the light in search of The Crack, which would allow Steve to play with his tricams.  Rongy and I stayed in the shadows, while in the background we could hear the cowbell sound as Steve’s gear jangled about on his harness.  It getting close to midday and there were now lots of people milling about.  Not really surprising as it is the school holidays and it was a glorious sunny day to be outside.  Most of the tourists were not watching Steve in the sun, but Rongy who was completely oblivious to all this attention:

He was having a bash at T3, a wicked climb that despite one ledge low down is sustained, long and technical.  A tough proposition and one we do not jump on too often, which is a shame as it really is very good.  I should have given this route a three star classic status in the guidebook, it only got two.  Rongy took his time, hanging on the holds regularly shaking out, as the steepness of the route slowly depleted his energy levels.  Eventually he made it to the top anchors with Popeye forearms and better still without a slip or fall.  I managed to get up the route with the rope above me but not without several rests, one for me to come back to another day:

For Rongy and I it was then time to put the climbing gear away, and he set up camp with Alana next to Kaylenn and his family.  In the background Andrew could be seen still at the top of the carpark slab and there seemed to be quite a queue of people wanting to have a go at The Crack.  It was good to see Lachy climb it well, Rhianna however opted out climbing is not her thing.  There were also others gathered round that I didn’t recognise, and it transpired that Steve had did what he has done before.  Got talking to passing tourists and offered them a top rope so they could give climbing a go.  This is all well and good but I could see Andrew like the reservoir of Welly Dam starting to get salty:

He was not getting salty in the way the slang version means, but as he was perched in direct sun with no shade or hat he was certainly looking pretty hot .  It was by now a lovely 17 degrees with not a breeze in the still air. In these conditions the quarry can become a bit of a heat trap.  I had only ever intended to stay a couple of hours, in view of having been out yesterday, but it was so relaxed and lovely today that my stay extended out to three and half hours.  I did however now need to make tracks, so went up to wish Andrew a wonderful birthday and left him there in this sweaty state.  As I drove out I was quietly hoping that his belaying duties would soon be over so he could enjoy the grub that was starting to be cooked below:

Today Alan had kindly offered to pick me up from home.  Living in Peppy Beach that required braving the country roads, which at the agreed time of the day was likely to be crawling (or hopping) with roos.  That didn’t put him off and so for a change my car stayed in the driveway.  Seeing I was ready a little early I left Lisa in bed with a cup of tea and the poodles, and started to wander down the road.  If I had waited at the house I can guarantee that as he drove up the driveway the poodles would have gone ape and woken up half the street.  Being dark Alan saw me a little late, but soon did a U-turn and came to pick me up:

Today I was going to be doing mostly belaying, as I had offered to allow him to take the sharp end to build up his leading and gear placing confidence.  It was a cold morning and the cab of the car was toasty, so as soon as I jumped in off came the beanie and buffalo.  I then settled down to be chauffeured down to Wilyabrup.  By the time we got to the empty carpark it was light, and as expected there was a heavy dew.  The grass and vegetation was wet, but after a couple of days of dry weather we were hoping for dry rock.  As we approached the cliff we came across a new sign, and there is also one at the bottom of the cliff:

I have mentioned several times now how I have witnessed many more people down here than ever before.  Most of them going for a walk, to take some images or pop down to the beach.  I guess this sign has been put up because of that, it seems a bit obvious you’d think but I guess there are the less observant and sensible amongst us.  We also witness that later in the day as a kid happily picked up and threw a rock over the edge, we of course politely asked him not too and explained why.  At the base we inspected the rock and Alan’s first intended climb, Twenty Questions, looked less than desirable.  Water streaked down the face and splashed out as it hit the ledges:

He was not looking too keen, not only was it a very crisp morning which meant rock was cold to touch but this one was mostly very wet.  But as many come to expect when climbing with me, things like that really shouldn’t put you off and as such I managed to convince him to just crack on with it.  That he did and while it took him a little while at the crux section, he sorted his gear and head and then pulled the moves off with relative ease.  As he was topping out and getting his belay set up Craig wandered along with Julian.  Julian just happened to be down for a few weeks working at the same place as Craig’s wife Oyukha:

As the introductions were made it turned out Julian knew both Craig and I, we had met him some time back when we had gone out to Eaglestone Rock in the Wheatbelt.  I recognised the face but would never have placed it from then, it just goes to show how small our Western Australian climbing circles are.  They carried on along the path in search of a warm up climb, while I climbed up after Alan.  When we got back down we headed for his second intended lead and that meant a bit of bolt clipping.  This allowed Alan to lighten the harness as he climbed Setting Sun:

He said before that he was nervous about this one but it never showed and he made very short work off it  After polishing that route off we caught up with the other and found Craig belaying Julian up One for the Road.  Some warm up some might say but he managed to on-sight it with relative ease.  I had caught wind that he had been here a few times but it seemed that there was lots and lots that he hadn’t climbed, including some of the classics that you might expect.  I scrambled round looking for a few nice camera angles while Alan racked up for his third lead, it was time to place the trad rack back on his harness as he headed for Hope:

Other than that first line everything else we touched today was dry and in good condition.  The rock was certainly cold but after one climb that didn’t seem to worry Alan.  He took his time and methodically placed his gear and climbed.  Making use of wires, hexes, cams and tricams so he could practise the full range of trad gear available.  I didn’t see him place a dodgy piece the whole day.  On Hope there was a bit of a stutter at the crux, needing to rethink his gear and place just one more piece to give him the peace of mind and confidence to then work the crux moves:

It was a glorious day and still we were the only people here.  The sun was creeping round and it felt good when you were in it, but the wind was also starting to turn.  The easterlies that had sent the wind out to the ocean was shifting round to a north westerly and the cold wind started to bite.  I was belaying Alan in the cold shadows of the corner underneath One for the Road unable to escape the wind, as Craig soaked up the sun climbing up Road Trip.  The long runout on this route gave Julian a bit of a shock when he came up second, it certainly adds a bit of spice to the route and one I have mentioned when I led this route recently:

Now with three good leads under his belt I decided to steer Alan towards Thunder Thighs, the easiest climb of the day.  Another trad line but one that just feels different, and if truth be told may be a bit of a sandbag if you compare it to other routes of the same grade here.  It was however not any harder than anything else Alan had led today.  I noticed made him slow down and have think and work his gear a bit more than usual.  He claimed it was runout and a sketchy in places.  After I seconded him up I pointed out that he had placed twelve bits of gear (all good) but he stuck to his guns about it feeling runout.  Like I said the route just feels a bit different:

As we wandered down Julian was experiencing the delights of Inner Space.  He looked to be making good progress and made short work of the flake and slab, but then stopped below the final headwall.  Impressively it only took him a couple of false starts to commit to the runout and exposed finish before he finished it off.  Craig, Alan and I all swear that he seemed to finish it off with a bit of a beached whale flop, as his legs flipped out while his body disappeared over the lip of the final wall.  No discredit meant, as it was another fine on-sight:

By now Alan was indicating that he didn’t have much leading gas in the tank left, and after four back to back leads with minimal breaks in-between I was prepared to cut him some slack.  So as not to raise the grades I headed for Hitching, the name of which Craig seems to mix up with Road Trip.  This route has some marginal gear the crux is protected by two of the smallest, tiniest, lest inspiring brass RP placements you can imagine.  You then end up leaving them several meters below your feet, a fall that they would be unlikely to hold.  This one really did test Alan.  He popped the RPs out and got above where they were placed, but then seemed to get lost and went offline:

Holding on to mot much at all he eventually fell off leaving more skin, from his fingertips, on the rock than he really wanted too.  By now a few climbing parties had turned up, and as we walked down after this route there were also loads of people who had wandered along to the beach.  It was getting to that late morning to midday time when we find most people rock up, and this is why early starts are so appealing to me.  Now as I was belaying Alan on Thunder Thighs I had spied some crag booty, so I climbed the first part of Dolphin Smiles to collect it, one tap and this micro wire popped out.  The question I really have is why was it placed, when I was able to place not one but two bomber cams just below the placement:

We then decided to hit one last route with our packs so we didn’t have to walk them out.  I led up Glory with Julian to my left as he was enjoying a more relaxed climb on Hope.  Alan and Craig then climbed up almost side by side to join us, and as Alan and I got ready to head out the boys headed back down.  Julian was going to jump on Stainless Steel, and I hope he managed to keep up the on-sighting for that route.  Alan and I decided not to stick about to witness it, instead we wandered back to the now packed carpark where I slumped into the passenger seat and enjoyed the chauffeured ride home:

After a fun social day at home playing on the boulder wall in our shed, and watching Wiggins’ latest video, I organised with Rongy to head out on the Sunday afternoon for a quick dash up to Welly Dam.  Saturday night the strong front had had been forecast for Saturday finally came through with Collie getting an inch of rain, but Sunday morning had seemed windy and dry so I was hopeful.  I picked Rongy up early in the afternoon and we headed inland, and soon a few drops were falling on the windscreen.  In the distance we would usually be able to see the scarp as it rises above the flat coastal plain.  Today it was just a mass of grey clouds:

We drove onwards and seemed to be bathed in sunlight, with clear skies above us.  I told Rongy that the blue sky would follow us there.  The roads driving in were drenched and ahead there were clouds, but as we got closer the sky above remained optimistic and sunny.  Finally rolling into the carpark there was not a dry patch of anything in sight.  A group had been picnicking and were just packing up, they told us that they had been sheltering under one of the structure as it had absolutely bucketed down just five minutes before we arrived:

I’ve climbed here in the rain and when it has seemed wet, but the steep walls have usually managed to stay a bit dry offering us a number of routes to play on.  Today however every surface was soaking, water was running down many of the lines and as we walked back and forth trying to decide which lines to attempt we wondered if we would get anything done.  On some routes waterfalls were dribbling down over the overhangs and splashing outwards when they hit ledges making it seem like it was still raining, but the blue sky that had followed us here told us otherwise:

Any routes with black lichen were definitely out, which was most of the lower grade routes.  I kindly offered Rongy first lead, seeing how I have been out on rock much more than he has.  Eventually he plumped for Raging Torrent, a very apt route considering the conditions.  And in view of the conditions I felt like I should place him on belay before he left the deck, not that that would have helped if he had slipped before getting to the first bolt.  He slowly and steadily worked each move, and it didn’t look like he was changing his approach to the climb, maybe there was hope:

He came down all upbeat at how good it had felt, so surely it wasn’t too bad… now I could blame Alan for encouraging me to start bouldering early the day before, so he could get a bit more climbing in, or maybe Geoff as he encouraged us to stay on the roof during the later sessions but that wouldn’t be right.  I came unstuck at the first crux, I really struggled to stick the wet holds that Rongy had seemingly managed to use with ease and elegance.  This resulted in me spinning off the face several times, and needing to work extra hard to finally get up.  Then feeling exhausted, looking for a line that looked reasonable or me to jump on:

That was to be Savage Sausage Sniffer, and by the time I got to the top of the quartz flake I was gassed and slumped onto the rope.  Everything seemed to ache now, but I had to get up this route.  Pulling myself back on the wall I soon found myself near the top with only the trusty Mikey Pinch to secure the lead.  It was however not to be and I was again flying through the air.  Rongy managed to follow up cleanly, and was being kind when he said it would have been different if he had led it.  The sun was still out and he was all fired up so set off up Just Do It, even with a protective overhang at the top this line had water all over it:

He made short work of it, again showing composure and an ability to confidently stick the wet holds.  Needless to say that as I followed up my stellar performance continued with two slips on this route.  After that there was no way I could have gone up any more, my fingers felt raw and everything was feeling achy.  That said it was a lot of fun and for me humbling, but now it was time to pack the gear away and head out.  It felt good to finally slump into the car seat, and as we drove out the clouds rolled in and the rain started to fall: