Howsie has, with the help of Nadia, ticked off a few more grade 20s in pursuit of his 2020 challenge.  In truth I’m pretty impressed that Nadia would have belayed him on some of the climbs he has jumped on.  Especially the short powerful bouldery climbs at Moses where you really need to be on your game when you are holding the rope for the leader.  Today however Nadia was not joining us as we head out to hopefully bag four grade 20s at Bobs Hollow.  No one had put their hand up to drive the rocky 4WD track in, so we decided to walk in from Contos.  Personally I prefer the walk as it is a very picturesque half hour stroll along the Cape to Cape track:

Not that we got to see much of those great views.  As planned we left the cars at 6:30’ish and despite it being a crisp, clear and cloudless morning it was still dark.  Andrew and I hadn’t been as forward thinking as Alan and Howsie and hadn’t brought head torches.  So they didn’t use theirs and we set off in darkness allowing our night vision to build up.  As we walked the track it slowly got a lighter and we watched the far off glow of morning creep in.  It wasn’t until the final stretch, as we approached the cliff top, that we could really see.  We really were the early birds, as there was hardly a bird song to he heard:

As we approached the base of the crag, I mentioned that seeing it was a corker of a forecast for the weekend we would likely be besieged by Perth climbers.  During my last trip here with Rongy, Steve and his sister there were more climbers than I had ever seen here.  Today however there were no tell-tale signs of others, such as draws on the climbs.  There was however a pair of climbing shore hanging in a tree and a single tent.  We got ourselves ready to climb, as a single lady very efficiently got up, packed up and walked out.  We apologised for being there so early, but she said it was fine as she had wanted to get an early start today.  The shoes were still hanging in the tree and were not hers:

Today was all about Howsie.  Bob’s offers steep limestone jugging, there are not many easy routes here and those that exists are at the southern end.  Howsie already had a game plan mapped out in his mind, which meant knocking off the three 20s at the northern end first.  You’ll recall that Alan and Andrew, if you have been keeping track of my posts, are just getting back into things and building up their fitness.  While I was confident they could give a few climbs here a good crack, leading was another matter.  So the three of us mulled about as Howsie began to stretch and get ready for this first battle:

The first line was also the shortest of the day, Puk Puk Sen, and as the guide says it provides “a gentle introduction to this wall”.  Meaning of course everything else is harder, so there was no point in my putting a rope up for Alan and Andrew yet.  Howsie managed to get up the route, but not as cleanly and efficiently as he would have hoped.  Being the first climb I guess that was to be a little expected, but it was a good start and one more grade 20 was in the bag.  Andrew was up next and managed to get half way up before declaring that his arms were giving up and slipping off.  Once you are in the air it can be tricky to get back on the wall, so after trying several times and wearing himself out he eventually came down:

I had decided that I would also lead every 20, so pulled the rope and went up.  There really isn’t anywhere in the south west like Bob’s, so unless you climb here you can never prepare for it.  It had been seven months since my last trip here, and it was a bit of a shock to the system when I jumped on that first line.  The rock as expected felt cold, but I had forgotten just how sharp the holds were.  Added to that you could feel your back and shoulder muscles working hard all the time, in fact your whole body has to work to climb these steep lines efficiently.  I too found that first route harder than it should have been:

The next line on the radar was one Howsie had never been on, Right Fin.  He set off (above) while Andrew got ready to belay Alan on the first line.  Offering me time to take a quick few “where’s the belayer” snaps before he reached the first bolt.  While it is almost twice the height of the first line, it does offer a more gentle vertical start up the right side of the fin.  Bridging in a fine position, until the wall above steepness up and looms ominously above you.  After that it is steep and juggy and you are always hanging on your arms, and this is where body position becomes critical to make the most of your feet:

As Howsie was enjoying the relaxing start of Right Fin I was observing Alan.  He had started well but as the mid-wall steepened up and the holds became smaller and a bit more spaced he was struggling.  I did wonder how much the boys would get done today, but they had both been here before so should have had an idea of what to expect.  While I was watching Alan, it was more Andrew’s belaying style that caught my attention.  He had been sitting down away from the wall, no problem with me I do that often, but when Alan unexpected fell it resulted in what looked like a less than comfortable belay position:

Once Howsie had launched up the steep terrain I stopped watching the antics on the first route and focused my attention to where it should be.  I could hear him breathing deeply.  I felt like I could almost hear him thinking his way through the route, reach for a jug work out your feet positions and push up with them.  All the while looking about to find the next jug and then repeat it again.  At times you underling stalactites, side pull flakes or yard up as high as you can to reach a more conventional jug that you can just pull up on.  He was very chuffed as he clipped the lower offs, in a very steep position holding onto what seemed like small holds.  That was however an illusion, as after the steep terrain to get there everything would feel small:

Two out of two, and he had a celebratory double fist pump as he came back down.  Alan was meanwhile was still working hard on the first route.  So I pulled the rope on Right Fin and lead it myself.  As I hoped, the clumsiness on first climb was seeping away and I could feel my body starting to fall into place.  Being able to see and work through the required movements with confidence.  Making them more efficient and clean, but more importantly controlling my mind to have the faith required to go for and pull off the moves.  This was so important on the steeper terrain where you need to coordinate and tension your whole body.  It felt really good, and as I came down so did Alan after he had conquered Puk Puk Sen:

To give Howsie a bit of a rest before the next route, Andrew set off up Right Fin and did really well.  He managed to get to the top with only a couple of rests and afterwards said he didn’t realise that it was the same grade as Puk Puk Sen.  Not surprisingly he very happy, as he came back down.  So with a bit of a rest Howsie did a bit of a warm up routine to prepare for Thyeses Feast, which starts up the left side of the fin.  It was pretty comical and I secretly videoed it, but you’ll have to be on the local WhatsApp group to get to see that!  Once warmed up Alan and Howsie set off on either side of the fin:

Alan was getting gassed as the climb steepened up and had to rest.  The problem with this was that Andrew had replaced a short extender with a longer one, as it looked like the rope was dragging over the rock above it.  This meant that when Alan rested he ended up quite a distance from the wall.  Andrew had been belaying some way back from the wall and once there was tension on the rope he wasn’t able to walk towards the base, as the ground closer to the wall was lower.  So as I belayed Howsie, I had to push Andrew, while he was hanging in space, so he could get to the wall.  Once there he hung on to then allow Alan to push off the rope to try and get back on the wall.  It was all very comical:

Alan did finally get back on, but was so tried from the effort of it all that he couldn’t finish the route and came down.  It was a reversal of Andrew and Alan on the first route, the only trouble being the gear and rope was still up there.  Also Howsie had failed to get to the final lower offs.  Thyeses Feast is renowned to have a thought provoking and hard finish.  Howise had done the route before and knew this, and I would usually avoid the climb because of it.  So as he rested up, I first climbed back up Right Fin to clean the route and then tackled Thyeses Feast.  I also failed where Howsie had, but after a rest on the rope I found an alternative sequence and managed to clip the anchors:

The top moves, the way Howsie had climbed it and tried to follow, required you to get a great pocket but then have to heal hook your left foot deep into it next to your hands before going up.  His approach was to work your way rightwards to holds that were not inspiring and it felt that if you fell you would seriously damage your left foot.  The sequence I found avoided all this and went left of the pocket, so feeling rested and having chatted about how to tackle the final head wall Howsie set off with a new game plan.  It was all looking good until the final move, where he stuttered for way too long and just didn’t use his feet effectively, finally gassing out and falling.  He gave it another go and again fell, by now he was really tiring and it was not to be:

I lowered him down, and he looked shattered.  So with the rope almost at the top I tied on to try the new found sequence ground up.  Resting in a good stance below the final steep section I pulled my thoughts together.  Then as I pulled into each hold and worked my feet, it all felt too good to be true and before I knew it I was clipping the anchors.  It all happened to fast so Howsie asked me to point out the sequence as he videoed it.  No doubt he will be watching that video and committing the moves to memory for his next attempt.  That was not going to be straight away.  And seeing Alan and Andrew were also not keen to try the route I cleaned it as I came down:

We wandered down to the southern end of the crag to climb in the sun.  The crag classic, or at least one of them, Shaved Cats was the fourth grade 20.  The boys were pretty smashed and after something less intense, so we pointed them to the most protected climb here, Lovers Nuts.  With eight bolts on a 15m climb, the clips are almost to close as they break up the flow of the climb.  But when you are tiring that isn’t a bad thing and I was very pleased to see Alan jump on lead, and doing really well.  After having worked his arms so hard on the first two routes the crux bulge was however too much for him, and a rest was in order:

Now you may notice that I have jumped from Howsie on Shaved Cats to Alan and Andrew.  So back to Howsie… the last grade 20 is very different and while it is still a steep climb it is not as overhung.  This means it is more technical climbing and the holds, at least lower down are more fingery.  He managed to get to the third bolt, but was looking increasingly uncomfortable.  The next crux moves were simply too much and he came off.  Looking exhausted I offered to climb the route so the draws were in, which he accepted.  But before he attempted the route again we went round to watch the others climb so he could try to rest up:

I was pleased once more when I saw Andrew pull the rope down, so he too could lead Lovers Nuts.  He climbed it in almost in identical fashion to Alan making good work of it all, expect the bulge.  So while Andrew was resting before tackling the crux, Howsie and I walked back round to Shaved Cats.  He stood there for ages contemplating how he was feeling and decided to top rope it, as he was simply too tired.  It was a good move, as got as far as he did before and fell, he tried again and once again fell.  It was time to throw the towel in, so he came down and settled down to belay me as I went back up and cleaned the line:

We all wondered where the last four hours had gone.  That is how long we had been at the crag and it had gone past in a flash.  Their muscles were however telling them that they had been working hard, and they surely had given it everything.  It is also worth noting that no one else, other than a few hikers who had peered over the edge from the top of the cliff had come along.  So we packed up and took the boots that were still hanging in the tree, and started the walk out.  As we got to the top of the crag we met Shane and Charlie, who Alan had camped out with the night before.  Their walk in to meet us was no mean feat for Shane, who had just run 70kms the day before almost making our efforts of the morning seem insignificant:

It was a lovely walk out, a perfect day with perfect views.  The six of us marched along the track, often stopping to take in the breathtaking sight.  Eventually we got back to the cars and went our separate ways, Alan, Shane and Charlie were going to set up camp at Contos for another night under the stars.  While Andrew, Howsie and I drove off.  On the way back we stopped in at Burnside near Margaret River, as we had done on the way down.  This is where we had picked Howsie up from, and is where he had stayed over after an evening of band practise.  This had involved two hours plus of drumming, which I personally think hadn’t helped his cause on rock today.  Still it does mean we have to come back so he can bag the other two grade 20s, and no one was complaining about that:

Alan, Steve, Rongy and then Leanne all hinted at wanting to get out for a session, so we headed down to Wilyabrup on Sunday morning.  It was hard to read the forecast but we thought it would be OK.  I did second guess the decision when five minutes before I was meant to meet the crew in Capel, I received a text from Alan.  He had stayed in Margaret River on Saturday night and said it was “pissing down”, my three word response was simple “it will pass”.  And we drove down to see if it would.  On arrival it was dry, but still hard to read.  Shouldering our packs we walked in:

Despite it seeming like we had all left the carpark at the same time, we couldn’t hear any chattering behind us and when we got the sty and looked back there was still no one in sight.  We assumed they would be OK and soldiered on.  Rongy wasn’t sure what to climb today, and not sure how the day would go he decided to start on an old faithful to warm up on.  I did however tell him he could only take a single set of wires up for this one, not that the limited gear on his rack would pose any issues.  It was not until he was off the deck that the others caught up with us, also unsure what they would start on:

After enjoying the familiar holds and sequences of Hope I discovered that despite the on and off again rain over the last few days the rock felt good.  So I decided to test myself with the nervous direct start for Waterfall Second Folly.  It is a steep wall with rounded holds, so friction and dry rock is important.  The first gear is also tricky to place so you have to hold the positions with arms slowly pumping out.  Today however it all clicked into place and I felt good, hanging there comfortably placing gear and even taking my time.  I enjoyed the feeling, which is rare thing on the start of this climb:

Half way up I could hear the cowbell sound of a hex being placed.  Sure enough as I peeked through a horizontal break I could make out the hex as it was slotted in by Alan (above).  He happened to be climbing up the other side of the huge hanging flake.  Eager for a few reasonable climbs to lead and place some gear he had opted for Tom Thumb, a great choice in my opinion.  A nervous start with limited protection and a traverse over some high ground, followed by fine varied climbing with lots of gear options.  To round it off some would even regard exiting the crack as a steep and exposed finish:

We topped out at the same time and busily got our belays set up.  He was facing north and I was looking out west, and across the ocean all I could focus on was a big bank of rain.  It was predicted to be fresh westerlies with a 6m swell.  The wind was not that strong and seemed to be more of a south westerly, which was good as all the northerly faces were protected but this also indicated that the rain bank would head our way.  The ocean also certainly didn’t give the impression of having a 6m swell, which was a shame as I was looking forward to huge crashing waves:

Rongy followed up, and I could feel by the rate of his progress that he was finding the start a little tougher than I had.  Despite indicating that being the case he still managed a clean ascent.  Finally making it to final head wall of the Inner Space Wall, which provides a steep headwall where you need to trust smears and high feet to top out well above your gear.  When he took the last piece of gear out I suggested he now had the option of shuffling right to take on the harder top out if he wanted, but he decided again that:

Watching the movement of the clouds it looked like the high clouds might be taking a different path to what the winds across the water and land would indicate they should.  It looked to be shifting more west with a slight southerly slant.  Time to coil the rope and head back down, for another route in the hope that what we had seen was right.  The last thing you want is to be half way up a route when the rain hits.  We left Alan belaying Leanne and then Steve up his route, as rain was also falling north of us:

While Rongy hadn’t sneaked right for the harder finish up the headwall on my route, it must have appealed to him as he plumped for the line that lead there.  I’d climbed the big flake to the left of him, and was taking image of him while sat atop the boulder that can be seen at the top of the crag.  Total Awesome was in Rongy’s sights, a fine direct line up the wall in-between two equally fine flake systems.  While we got a few drops of rain as he led this climb, we had seen it as it was and the rain bank that looked to threaten us earlier had passed south of us:

As I followed him up, working my way through the crux it was my turn to feel like I was tiring.  It is probably more that when you are on lead you are very focused and put thoughts of tiring arms, not quite feeling it and anything else negative aside.  The last thing you need to be thinking about while on the pointy end is reasons that you may not make it up leading to a slip and fall.  On second with the rope above you I guess you let your guard down and those thoughts can creep to the fore a bit easier.  Before walking back down we took advantage of the height to watch Steve start up Orryjohn:

Back down and I had two routes in mind.  I wasn’t however sure if the dry feeling rock might have been making me think a little silly.  So I put them both to Rongy and let him decided, and that he did we me then tackling the nice long 30m pitch of Simple Suicide on the mighty Steel Wall.  With only two bolts protecting the upper wall, this route always feels very run out and is aptly named.  To put things into perspective, all the other routes up this wall have anywhere from three to six bolts.  Putting that to the back of my mind I relished the dry grippy rock, small crimpy holds and got down to business:

Rongy followed me batman style with his cape flying behind him.  The wind was picking up again and you could feel the temperature drop, but looking out we were pretty sure we were once again in a safe bubble that would force the rain either north or south of us.  Coming out in these conditions of uncertainty, add an extra element to the whole experience.  More often than not we find that we still end up climbing heaps and the rain somehow manages to pass us by, but on occasion we do get it wrong.  Wandering down we found Steve sitting out looking at the waves, having conquered Orryjohn:

Leanne had given it a go but found the first wall, which Steve was shown climbing up a couple of images above, too difficult.  It has been a several years since Leanne has climbed, and her arms and muscles just were not accustomed enough to this vertical activity.  That said I also feel that when this route was originally climbed, back in the early seventies, they would not have climbed the initial wall.  Instead going up the gully to the right to get established in the crack system.  Back on the deck we found Alan well and truly getting stuck into the crack which turns into a fun wide chimney at mid-height:

Once again I think I must have got into Rongy’s head, as he decided that he was going to jump on the other line that I had suggested as one of my possible leads.  Personally I always feel a little intimidated by Fat Chance, but Rongy doesn’t and seemed to make short work of it… until the top wall when he noticed a hold was missing.  This made the move long and balancy.  With less secure holds and I could see him stutter for a bit and then slap for the next hold, only just sticking the sequence.  I followed up and sure enough the right hand hold that would normally unlock the last slab was missing:

The move was now that bit more tenuous but we found another way to unlock a different sequence and make it work.  The last time I was on this route was in November last year, when Craig led it during a trip with Rongy and I.  I had a sneaky feeling that the hold was gone back then, but it was not until I typed this post and checked my past images that I could confirm this.  Sure enough there is an image of the very move Rongy almost slipped off, which Craig with his lanky reach made look so much easier:

Wandering along the top of the crag we found Alan tied in and ready for his next lead, Fairy Floss.  We had a quick chat and then kept moving, back towards the taller walls to be found on the northern cliffs of Wilyabrup.  Despite it being a bolt clipping exercise I went up Fishing with Dynamite, as it’s a nice sustained long pitch with some good positions and moves.  Plus it was keeping the grade at a consistent level to the last three climbs.  The perfect rock made it all the more delightful and it was a good way to wrap up another great the session:

Alan was sat on his perch belaying Steve up Fairy Floss as we wandered back, as Leanne could be seen wandering along the nearby beach looking for intriguing images to snap.  We checked in with them and it seemed that Alan was easy with whatever and Steve was just about ready to head out, decision made and we went down to sort the gear one last time.  Rongy was having a chat with a group who had only recently wandered down, and were setting up a rope on Hope as we polished off our last route.  Finally it was time to take on the last climb, back up the walking track:

Other than the small group we were the only climbers out today, but we once again was plenty of people walking.  The trudge up the crag with full packs usually makes the legs ache, and it sure did today.  So it is best to find a pace that works and just stick at it, which is exactly what Rongy, Alan and I did.  Despite all leaving the base of the crag at the same time we somehow had managed to get back to the cars, and a full carpark, a good five plus minutes ahead of Steve and Leanne.  They brought up the rear as this time the rain didn’t pass us by, and we (briefly) thought about the poor people who had only just set up at the crag:

Being a long weekend we decided it was worth getting out for a second climb.  What was intended as a bit of a social gathering, keeping within the current restriction of course, was progressively whittled down to just Rongy and myself.  In view of the intention of being a social and just for a couple of hours, Lisa tagged along for a bit of fun at Castle Rock.  We drove out via the backroads, as we suspected the roads would be busy with tourists.  However, as we passed through Busselton and checked all the caravan parks they didn’t look that full, and everything seemed reasonably quiet:

The traffic never seemed to build up and even the carpark at Castle Rock beach was only half full, so we started to wonder if there were any tourist down this weekend.  Above the sun teased us with the occasional appearance, and there was the continual threat of grey clouds in the distance.  It was a bit of a mixed bag today but the rock felt good.  Rongy was looking for something not too hard to warm up on and set off up a route that isn’t in the guidebook.  Lou has professed to having led this line before, and if that is indeed true it was a good lead.  While never really hard it has a tricky unprotected start with no gear until half height:

The intention had not been just for this to be a warm up climb but also one that Katie could hopefully have a bash at.  However, having seen Rongy needing to work it just that little bit already made that seem unlikely.  Regardless of that, or maybe being oblivious of the fact, Katie tied on.  I gave her a boost as she sat on my shoulders and then stood on them to get past the start, which didn’t really have any big hand or footholds.  While she gave it a couple of goes it really wasn’t the confidence building start that was needed, and she decided to give up.  As Rongy and I came back down I suggested another line that would probably be good:

Luckily we hadn’t put Katie off, and she was keen for another bash.  So we scrambled round to the other side to a ledge above the water.  From here a fun crack runs up almost the entire face.  One with good foot and hand holds, and one that was right up her alley.  While there were a couple of moments when she hesitated, and seemed unsure whether to go on, it didn’t take much encouragement to get her to commit to the move and keep going.  This time she had a big smile on her face as she joined me on top, feeling justifiably pleased with herself:

We sat there looking out at the view across the bay and Rongy climbing up, with strict instructions not to climb too fast.  That was imposed by me, as I had handed Katie the camera so she could take some snaps.  After sorting the gear it was then time to scramble over the top of the rocks before scrambling down.  This created a real adventure, just like it should be with climbing.  Not just the climbing but the fun of getting there, good positions, time to take it all in and then having to focus to get back down safely.  It was then time to warm Rongy up properly, as he had a route in mind to attempt:

Katie joined Ben, Alana and Lisa as we stayed round the other side.  The warm up I had in mind was another route not in the guide, this time one I put up with Craig.  We called it Smear to Glory because of the layback moves we used to get through the crux.  Rongy however used his far superior jamming techniques to find a fine inverted jam and cruise past the smears without a thought.  That said, and being the fourth person I’ve sent up this line on the pointy end, he agreed like the others that the grade we gave it was right.  I was quick to follow up and I’m not sure that the climb really warmed up so properly for what was next on the agenda:

I have never seen anyone cruise up Welcome to Tsaro, the fine looking face to the right of Rongy in the above image.  It’s got a committing, technical, pumpy and very crimpy start to get established on the face.  Even after that you need to keep going on small holds for a while before it finally eases and allows you to breathe.  This had Rongy stumped for some time, so much so that Ben had come to check in on us.  After Rongy final got to the top I too struggled, despite having the rope above me and having climbed this route many times before:

Just as I was about to set off up after Rongy, I could hear the familiar call of “hello uncle Krish”.  And eventually three heads could be seen in-between the vegetation, bobbing up and down as they walked along the footpath.  Craig had finally made it with Henry and Charlie, and of course all the fishing gear.  I’m glad they didn’t stay to watch me struggle in less than fine form, instead wandering round to join the others.  Rongy and I pulled the belay and scrambled down to join the crew, feeling somewhat spanked and with forearms that were pumped far more than they really should have been:

We found Craig was busy getting the fishing gear prepped, cutting up the squid for bait and preparing three lines.  While the kids all looked somewhat interested none of them took a line, so as they played about exploring the area Craig was left to fish by himself, at least for a while.  My shoes and harness was coming off.  I felt like the last climb had drained me plus it was getting close to our time to depart and head to the shops.  So after what seemed like way too quick a chat with Craig and a quick hello to the boys, Lisa and I were packing our bags to head out:

As we finally started to walk out Rongy had set up a nice easy top rope that both Katie and Ben could try, and Craig was getting the boys ready to have a climb too with his eye on some short but fun looking honeycomb faces.  As they continued to enjoy the delights of Castle Rock, Lisa and I hit walked out and then hit the road to Busselton, where there was a bit of shopping to be done to prepare for a short working week ahead.  One that will be very short for me, but you’ll have to wait a week to find out why:

Both in Busselton and driving home, admittedly via the backroads again, we still felt that there didn’t seem to be a great deal more traffic on the roads than a normal weekend.  During the journey we got a few messages from Alana to say that Katie had caught her first fish and Ben’s tooth (which was already loose) had fallen out.  So it sounds like the fun was continuing out at Castle Rock.  A few hours later as I sat down to start writing this post I got a message from Rongy, they had finally set off and were now caught in the long weekend traffic.  I’m not sure where all the tourists had been hiding but they were now heading back to Perth, resulting in the traffic crawling painfully along at 6km/hr:

Yesterday it had seriously dumped on us with squally showers and some places getting a couple of inches of rain, which for here is pretty big.  So with that in mind and multiple forecast checks during the week the obvious sensible option was to head inland away from the more exposed coastal locations.  This of course didn’t mean that we would be treated with dry rock, but at least the chance of less rainfall while we were climbing.  The morning was glorious with blue skies.  That was however at 7am and we were not meeting at the crag till 9am, another lazy winter start.  On the final part of the journey driving up to and past the dam wall the temperature was 7 degrees and the mist was rolling over the wall:

Mario was first in, he’s not been to Welly Dam for months having been stuck in Perth.  He’s also not been leading for all that time, but then he trains hard and I had a sneaky feeling that having been off rock wasn’t going to be much of an issue for him.  Steve rolled in next and we stood about, all rugged up, no one making any hasty movement to rack up and get cracking.  So when I saw a roo munching on the roadside I pulled out my camera and went to take a few snaps.  In all the times I have climbed here I have seen plenty of roos on the drive in and out but never at the crag before.  Then as the sound of a car came along it hopped off:

The fourth arrival was Alan, and still we all stood round chatting.  The sun was poking over the wall and was helping to lift the mist but not the temperature, as we continued to stand there.  Many of the walls looked wet, the black steaks were slimy and the grass felt spongy underfoot with water sitting on top of it in places.  The sponge was oozing water over the footpath and onto the carpark.  Here it formed a river that ran downhill towards the access road and bush.  And still we stood there chatting.  After taking some more snaps, and seeing there was no active move from the others to get started I made the first move:

It was a bit of a tough call as to what to start on, something not too hard or wet.  But with recent trips here I also didn’t want to repeat any of the lines I’d been on recently, so for better or worse I decided on Victim of Authority.  The rock was cold and it was hard to tell if the holds felt bad because they were wet or was it just me struggling due to a lack of feeling in my fingertips.  I flailed about getting past the first bolt but then got into a rhythm and managed the rest of the climb.  I did however occasionally, and quietly, curse myself for picking what is a weird and tricky lead:

Alan and Steve were not so keen on the big walls.  So as Mario belayed me up my poorly thought out climb, they went to the carpark slab which slowly on became bathed in sunlight.  Steve did ask me if he was OK to have a lead today, and when he said he wanted to start easy and lead The Crack how could I say no.  He finally got to play with his tricams again and I could hear the two of them chatting away in what looked like positively tropical conditions, as I battled with cold fingers.  I topped out and came down before Steve had finished his lead, which was only a third of the height of mine.  Rushing over to take a few snaps he was keen to top out, as while he was in the sun the rock was still cold to touch:

Mario rambled up my lead with relative ease, and with what might have been a sympathetic “the rock does feel cold” to make me feel better about the style of my lead.  I was right he was going to be climbing strong.  He was however keen to pick a sensible second climb, and went for a Walk in Central Park.  He practically ran up the route, not even stopping at the larger holds to contemplate the slightly runout and fingery crux moves.  Before tying in to follow him up I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye.  Something told me the conditions today would provide a good opportunity to see, a few more than usual, birds.  Sure enough a number of Scarlet Robins (above) and Splendid Fairy Wrens were out:

Now that I had seen the birds, suddenly the sound of them became more evident too.  As the quarry filled with the sound of them, they had to compete with the babbling of Alan and Steve.  They were taking a long time to get between routes, there was certainly no urgency in there mood or movement.  We had left the rope up on our first route, upon Alan’s request and they were stood at the base chatting away.  In fact they had only just begun to take on the challenge as Mario and I were finishing up on route number two.  We interrupted their banter to ask about our second route, and they were again keen for us to leave the rope up:

I had to include the image above, I included an image of a single one of these mud wasp nests in a previous post about a top rope solo mission here.  While it is probably not an unusual sight, I can’t recall ever seeing such a large collection of them.  Also if you look closely there are a couple of them which have not been evacuated, and one from which it looks like the wasp was just starting to emerge.  It was very slow progress if it was, and I didn’t see it get any further.  A bit like Alan, as he battle up Victim of Authority.  Through determination he did eventually conquer the route but it was a real struggle.  Once he managed to get up Steve promptly, and without a hint of hesitation, said he’d give it a miss.  It seems to be a line that many people would rather avoid:

Mario and I soldiered on as Alan was inching his was up, almost stopping at after each move and hanging on to every hold for ages.  I had hinted earlier on about jumping on Just Do It, in part due to being one of the routes here that will be the last to get wet.  With a nice capping roof above the finish it gets a bit more protection and has only one small part which water eventually runs down.  Mario was keen, and said it was a route he would preferred to have a rope above him.  I avoided the direct start, which I felt on a slightly damp feeling day would be hideous, but the rest fell with ease.  Even the final direct wall felt comfortable with no desperation to get the final holds to haul myself underneath the protective roof.  I think I was finally warming up, but there were no thoughts of shedding any layers:

In between climbs I would eagerly be hunting the trees and grass for birds.  Steve had mentioned he thought he had seen a robin that might have been crossed with a wagtail, which I think was the one I captured above.  It was unusual to see such a red breast with the grey head and back.  However, the tail shape and all the other markings indicate it is a Scarlet Robin.  I’m just a bit baffled with the striking red breast.  The females have some colouration but it shouldn’t be that bright, and the juveniles don’t normally have any red.  Like me on that point, I finally saw Mario stumped.  He had to stop and back off from a move to rethink it.  The final wall is thought provoking, I just know the holds and moves well enough to make it look easy:

Second attempt he nailed it, all his training was paying off for sure.  So as he was cleaning that line (above) I took time to take a few more images.  The trees were pretty well stripped bare of leaves.  This process had been greatly assisted over the last week when a couple of fierce fronts, the first of which that had brought devastation, had smashed Western Australia.  According to the calendar winter official starts in a few days, but I think it is fair to say it arrived with a bang last week Sunday.  The air was filled with the sound of the usual birds, such as the distant caws of Red Tailed Cockatoos, screeching Ring Tailed Parrots and chittering Willie Wagtails.  I also spied a few Splendid Fairy Wrens that had slowed down a bit, allowing time to get a few good images:

These little fellas or to be correct gals in this case, as the image above is of a female, never seem to sit still hopping round with boundless energy looking for tasty morsels.  A bit like Mario and I, as he was already down and had the gear set up below the next line, Ear of Fear.  The grades were going up… and as Mario started, Steve was on his way up A Walk in Central Park.  Mario again motored his way up the route, there were however a couple of tenuous moments.  He snatched for the crucial hold on the crux, and held it.  I could tell he was a bit pumped as there was a sense of urgency in his movements both there and also as he clipped the bolt above.  The same happened at the final anchors, and on both occasions he held it together and was deservedly happy to have got a clean ascent:

Steve had been struggling up his route, I think the two of them had spent so much time chatting that they never really got into the grove of climbing.  Climbing is after all just as much if not at times more of a mental than physical challenge.  I caught them once again stood chatting away avoiding putting their hands on rock, as got set up for and climbed BBQ.  I was contemplating Flight Simulator to keep the grades up, but when I interrupted their chatter to ask Steve hinted he might like to play on BBQ.  I was pleased with that decision, as it started to sprinkle just as I completed the climb.  It was just enough moisture for Mario to tell me that the holds were beginning to feel wet and less inviting, not that this stopped him:

While I mentioned climbing can be more of a mental challenge, I could hear Alan saying his arms were goosed.  That was not surprising considering how long he had been hanging on to each hold.  Steve however was countering that by saying it was because of his sloppy footwork forcing him to use his arms too much.  Alan in response suggesting that his tiring arms reduced the ability to look down and think about footwork, while Steve refuted that with the logic that his footwork had been sloppy from the offset way before his arms had got tired.  And so the banter carried on… Meanwhile Mario and I plumped for one last route to even up the leads, he was thinking either Red Alert (taking the grades back up) or Savage Sausage Sniffer (keeping it more reasonable):

I was pleased he plumped for more reasonable, and I think he may have been to.  It was just enough to polish off a top session in less than desirable conditions.  I might add that while Steve had hinted at wanting to play on BBQ, he had taken that back hinting he just wasn’t feeling that way inclined and making mention of his hand being a bit sore.  So as Mario and then I went up the last route of the day the boys, were once again deep in the art of having a chat.  We retrieved and packed up the gear, which had been spread across the crag, and were ready to head out.  But the banter continued and it took a while before Mario and then finally I left the old men to it.  As I drove off they were sat on the park bench, debating amongst other matters whether or not they should head up to café to get a coffee:

Today was the calm before the storm.  The remnants of cyclone Mangga will be bearing down on us tomorrow and so Andrew, Steve and I made the best of the good weather and headed to Wilyabrup.  While they had both joined in with the recent climb at Welly Dam, neither have climbed much and so it was going to be a “breaking back into it” kinda day.  Steve being on the road to recovery after surgery and Andrew well just to get back into climbing, and also aiming to get climbing fit for a possible down south trip later in the year:

To get the muscles warmed up and after learning from the error of my ways with Rongy earlier in the week, we started on something sensible being the fun climb called Glory.  To make things a bit more interesting and much to Steve’s delight I led this purely on tricams.  Andrew came up last and had the honour of taking the gear out.  One was particularly problematic, but after much mucking about he managed to pull the offending piece of gear free.  As Andrew topped out he came up with the idea of getting 20 push-ups in after each climb.  Telling us he had a target of 220 to do today, as part of the push-up challenge:

We toyed with various options for the next climb.  In view that the regional border with Perth was now open we anticipated a few climbers would be down.  So we determined that while we had the place to ourselves we should jump on Sirius.  Steve is still on his no leading probation period with me, and Andrew was certainly not keep to lead this one so I went up first.  However, being a traverse all three of us had the prospect of an equally big fall, and because of that I laced the traverse to reduce the risk for them:

Sure enough and as predicated, the first sign of other climbers came along as they followed me up or should I say along the traverse.  Two parties set up on the easy but fun slabs.  It seemed like there were a couple of newbies being introduced to the wonders of outdoor climbing, as there were lot so instructions being given out.  Andrew made the traverse and then it was Steve’s turn, his face was looking serious and did I detect just a hint of concern.  He later admitted that he felt a tad nervous on this pitch but managed to pull it off, and avoid a fall.  Something he hadn’t managed the last time he was on this route:

I set off up pitch two, it has been a while since I’ve been up this second pitch.  Most times I have been up the first pitch we have then climbed one of the two grade 18’s on the face, so it was nice to get back onto the proper second pitch of Sirius.  As I set myself up with a belay that gave me a bird’s eye view of them coming up, I noticed that Andrew was doing his next set of push-ups… yes on the belay ledge!  He eventually finished the set off and I’m not sure if he was aware of the tourist who had also started to appear, looking on at his antics:

Like I said I wanted a bird’s eye view of them following me up, and as such had a great hanging belay with nothing but space between me and the ground some 35 meters below.  I do like to be able to watch people as they follow up after me, plus it is much safer as you can observe how they are going and quickly see when they are starting to get into strife.  That thankfully didn’t happen for either of them, but you could tell they were both a little nervous stepping round the arête to get onto the slabby face.  That is when the exposure hit you:

After doing the obligatory push-ups Andrew settled himself down on a comfy perch, as I belayed Steve.  And more people started to appear.  Some out for a wander and some possibly just looking for that perfect insta-image, as they wandered round observing the world through the lens of their phones checking out the best angles.  I previously mentioned that Andrew needs to get back into climbing, he has a goal to climb a route on the south coast later in the year.  It’s a classic grade 18 that he has seconded many years back, but this time he wants to lead it.  So it is probable that he will be joining in more of our trips out:

Steve came up last and pulled the gear, for this and the last pitch there was a selection of wires, cams and tricams.  I decided no tot just use tricams, especially on the traverse as they can be more fiddly to get out.  I didn’t want to risk tiring either of them out, which could have resulted in a fall.  Only one wire gave Steve grief, which was thankfully at the belay ledge.  In this image you get a real feel for the exposure as you come on to this slabby face.  The bottomless corner just drops away into space under you, giving the sort of experience that I love.  You might also notice below another party that had turned up, who were eyeing up something on Steel Wall:

As we wandered down Steve said that he had made a decision that he wouldn’t climb any more today.  He was happy with what he had done and didn’t want to push things any more, indicating that he felt like he was climbing like a cabbage.  Not that it had shown, but we respected his decision and I quietly wondered what had happened to the real Steve who wouldn’t normally come across as so sensible.  Back at the base we bumped into Mick with a family of four that he was showing the ropes, it was his first tour for a while as he couldn’t take people out due to the various restrictions in place.  It seems that people are now getting back into things and he told us he even had a second group coming out in the afternoon:

With Steve on the sideline it was up to Andrew as to what we did.  I’m happy to say that he was keen for more and not only that but he was keen to jump on the floppy end.  So we went in search of something not too hard, gave enough opportunities for protection and looked fun.  When you are looking for less than a grade 14 that meets all three criteria it is actually quite hard.  Usually the routes are scrappy or they do not have much in the way of protection.  It was however Steve that pointed to and suggested Orryjohn:

As Andrew was getting, quite literally, stuck into the delights of Orryjohn I found a tiny pocket in the rock that had been made into a home.  I kept an eye on Andrew as he wormed his way up the chimney, first facing one way and then the next, and also watched the home hoping that the occupant might pop out to say hello.  Sadly no one came out, but on the plus side Andrew figured out the best way to tackle the chimney and managed a clean ascent.  It was a good start on his road back to climbing fitness, which is just as much if not more of a mental thing than physical:

I didn’t check if he did his push-ups after that route but I could tell that he was keen for one more route, and of course I am nearly always happy to get just one more climb in.  He was also keen to follow me up something a bit more spicy from what we had been climbing today.  So we decided on a project that Steve has in mind to complete this year, Inner Space.  It’s a route that used to be a regular on the tick list when we would come down, but in more recent times I haven’t been on it so much.  I could feel that we had turned it up a notch, needing to pull a little harder to get the moves and having to hang on a bit more placing gear:

While we were climbing Steve had gone walkabout.  I spied him down amongst the big boulders doing a bit of digging and then seemingly playing in the water.  He told me that he has been getting more and more interested in the geology of the area, you may recall in a past post There’s Gold in Them There Hills that he had, back then, started to show an interest.  Well it seems that this has moved up a level, and while he knows there isn’t any gold he was certainly looking for something.  But I don’t know what:

While Steve searched, Andrew made his way up the fine route.  He was half way up and starting to look tired, I could tell as the arms were starting to stick straight out instead of being locked down and his body positions looked more strained.  I thought he was going to fall but he pulled through and was soon just a couple of meters below the top… which is also where the crux is.  Talking him through what to expect I really thought he was going to make it, until the last move when his arms gave up and his hands slowly but steadily slipped off the final holds:

Needless to say he was still very happy to have got up to literally the final holds in such good style.  He was also looking smashed and just rolled onto the ledge, a sure sign it was time to wrap things up and head out.  Rather than haul the rope and gear back to the base, only to have to walk it all back up again.  So after he had done his push-ups we sorted the gear, coiled the rope and stashed it for collection on the way out.  When we wandered back to the packs we found Steve tucked away in a corner, trowel in hand, searching through the soil.  I really should have asked him what he was hoping to find:

It took us a while to get out, this time it was my fault.  I went to say goodbye to Mick, but he likes a yarn and he and I kept going probably a little too long.  His clients didn’t seem to mind so we kept going  Eventually we broke free and walked back up the track, and I almost forgot to stop and pick up the gear we had stashed.  Steve plodded on at a steady pace, as Andrew and I loaded the gear.  It was midday and as we walked back towards the carpark we passed several groups coming in, another seven climbers who were hauling in an esky:

The early start had paid off, we got to pick and choose the lines we wanted.  Had the joy of having the place to ourselves for a while, but also had a bit of a social with some of the many crew that had turned up.  Back at the carpark there were twenty odd cars, more than the spaces could handle. Some were parked in the bush off the track.  No doubt tomorrow will be a different story, as the cold front marches down on us bringing high winds and lots of rain.  The wet weather is set to continue all week, so there will be no midweek climb for me.  But hopefully we might sneak out again next weekend:

Next week it looks like this fine autumn weather we have been getting is likely to break.  So I decided on another midweek climb, and Rongy was also keen.  I left it to him as to where he would like to climb and the first thing that popped into his mind was Wallcliffe.  Unfortunately for various reason climbing has been banned there, but the bolts as yet have not been chopped.  I however, through work, have a fair bit of dealings with the local government who have been primarily responsible for the closure of that crag ,and so was not comfortable with undertaking a covert mission there:

So instead we ended up at Wilyabrup, which just pipped Castle Rock.  The longer routes here are what swayed it, Castle Rock is very different but also very short.  Now having been to Wilyabrup a few times of late we decided it was high time to hit Steel Wall.  We hadn’t set our heart on any particular routes and would see how the day unfolded.  I kicked things off by leading up the first half of Simply Suicide, to allow us to reach the half height ledge.  It was greasy and I was cold, one or both of which resulted in me popping off the crux move.  Maybe I should have properly warmed up by started on the lower grade first pitch of Sirius:

In the above image, and on the ground below us, you may see the H symbol.  Signalling the landing platform, i.e. a piece of cloth, for a drone.  Rhys had joined us and wanted to test out his new drone, and that meant we could get a whole new perspective of the cliff and climbing.  The reduced images in this post probably won’t do them justice but they still give a great view of the setting in which the Wilyabrup cliffs are nestled.  Rongy pulled off the greasy hold moves without slipping, and on arrival at the belay was keen to check out the second half of Delving Devoid:

With the new technology the drone was pretty quiet and didn’t sound like an annoying mosquito, which is what I have experienced with drones previously.  You can just about make us out on the mighty Steel Wall, towards the left end.  Mere specks on the grand collection of orange and grey buttresses that make Wilyabrup such a great place to climb.  Below Rongy is launching up his pitch, this will only be the third time I have seen this line climbed, first by myself with Craig, then Howsie and now Rongy (both with me):

It is very much a traditional climb, a thin seam on small but adequate protection.  When I say adequate protection I mean adequate for the more die hard trad climbers.  Bold climbing is required.  This includes having the knowledge and trust to know when even the smallest of wires, such as the one below, will hold a fall if it needs to.  Watching Rongy work his way higher I felt he was being brave to take on this line considering the greasy nature of the rock, but then as I have said countless times that never seems to worry him as much as others or myself:

We scrambled back down and this time already knew where we were heading.  As I checked out a route that Rhys was eyeing up, which will get mentioned later, Rongy got on with the usual drill.  By the time he had the first piece of gear in I had him on belay.  This time we made use of the first pitch of Sirius to get back to the same belay spot that we had used earlier.  Steve you’ll be pleased to know that Rongy used the same pink tricam placement as you did, and this time I successfully removed it on second:

From that belay my line was straight up the steep wall.  Unclaimed as I called it, has a nervous start to clip the first bolt.  I was feeling uneasy with the prospect of hanging on delicately to insecure holds to clip the first bolt, with the prospect of a nasty landing on the ledge if I slipped.  Strangely for the start and in fact the entire route I felt at ease, there was no fiddling about working moves and each hold I went for felt good despite at times being very thin.  Based on the two grade 18 routes we had climbed today Rongy and I started to wonder if we under-graded the new lines we had recently put up at the Organ Pipes, ah well it is not likely that anyone will ever repeat them:

Another scramble back down to the deck, and now Rongy liked the idea of climbing Pascal’s Route.  This was in part as we had bumped into Pascal, for the first time, a few weeks back and in part due to the route now sporting two new bolts.  This meant that it was a on full sports route and it also took a different line to Simply Suicide from the shelf upwards.  It did however mean he had to climb the first pitch of my first chosen line.  A slight breeze began to stir and this helped dry the rock, making the crux moves up to the ledge that little bit more enjoyable:

It’s a great clean line from start to finish, with a reachy crux near the top.  One that made Denis falter and slip off years back, so it really is reachy.  It was hard to tell from the bottom but Rongy later confessed that he almost misread the moves and came off.  I too was super close to coming off at this point, you have to suck into the wall and inch your way up gingerly on poor slopey holds barely big enough to put your finger tips on.  By the time I got to the top I was feeling pretty pooped, quite possible a fourth day of climbing within a week was taking it’s toll:

One more time we scrambled down, or it would be more technically correct to say we down climbed.  The gulley of Buttress Corner is never too challenging, but you still have to keep your wits about you.  A slip would result in a long and bumpy fall.  After that last route even this down-climb was feeling pretty tiring, but it was my lead next and I had thought that it would be up Stainless Steel.  A grade harder again, but one we are familiar with and feel reasonably safe on.  Rhys was however still eyeing up the route we had been looking at before, and so my attentions got diverted to that line:

Rhys’s Rapid Retreat, was the climb that saw the downfall of his climbing.  He was having a go at leading this route when he took a near catastrophic fall, and while we carried on climbing that day it was not until a few days later that the reality of what nearly happened hit him.  He has never really overcome that.  Seeing he was keen to try it I went up that route, only to realise just how tired I was.  It was hard work and I made it look even harder.  I’m hoping that I didn’t put Rhys off, or did he call it for what it really was?  Either way, not being climbing fit, he said he pumped out on the initial steep wall was it was pointless trying to complete the route:

After he decided against following me Rongy cleaned the line.  Now while I was climbing I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, someone setting up a rope on top of Steel Wall.  As I set up the belay and Rhys was attempting the line the person had wandered down.  He then settled into a rock armchair, which would make Lisa jealous, to watch Rongy climb (near the top of the image above).  I had an inkling that I knew this figure, which prove correct, and it was non-other than Pascal!  How freaky to bump into him twice in as many weeks, when I had not seen him before in some 15 years of climbing here:

We had a chat about his route, and he was very pleased to hear that it had been climbed just that morning.  He had organised to meet up with a few other climbers, ones that I had only met a couple of times before.  They were however a little late arriving, so after Rongy had led Stainless Steel without seemingly breaking a sweat, Pascal went up next.  He practically ran up the route so while I feel it would pretty good to get out climbing with him sometime, I’m not sure if I could keep up:

My turn next, and despite feeling weary I found my own less rushed pace and enjoyed the climb.  Rhys had the drone flying this way and that but again I never heard it, as he captured many great angles some far off and some pretty close.  Too many to include in this post.  I easily passed what some call the crux, as I always have.  Then faltering slightly at the next slabby section and went direct, under instructions/directions from Rongy.  He’s right it is the best way to go.  Then it was only the final headwall, a couple of last pumpy moves and once atop I could feel my body say now I need to rest:

Rhys brought the drone in closer for one last image before that too was brought back down with close to exhausted batteries.  We were preparing for the last scramble down, only then to have to walk back up; um when I say it like that you can understand when people ask “why?”.  Before we headed down Aaron and the rest of the crew rocked up, to climb with Pascal.  During a chat I discovered that he had moved to Peppy Beach six months back and lived just down the road from us.  It really is a small world:

It wasn’t me that said yes to heading out for a second day on the trot, it was Lisa.  Although I might have hinted to Lisa that I was a little tempted, when she told me that Rongy had posted on out local WhatsApp group to see if anyone was keen.  No complaints from me.  And so I found myself back on the road, as the day was breaking, but not until I had made Lisa a cuppa while she was still snuggled up under the duvet on yet another brisk morning.  The following image was kindly donated by Steve, as I didn’t stop to take any images on the way up:

The main reason for not stopping and admiring the view, was that I had an impromptu stop early on to help someone clear up the debris left after they had hit a big kangaroo.  The roo was toast, and not a pretty sight.  Bits of plastic and the occasional body part lay scattered across both lanes for some 20 to 30m of road.  I still arrived at Welly Dam pretty well on time and was greeted by an empty carpark.  As I waited for the others to roll in I wanders round the area taking in the beautiful colours that the non-native deciduous trees turn during autumn, as the shed all their leaves:

I purposely mentioned above about these trees being non-native.  And while they may look pretty, when they are by a river all that leaf litter results in some less than desirable outcomes.  It can result in a large build-up of organic matter, which as it decomposes sucks the oxygen out of the water and also raising the nutrient levels above normal resulting in fish kills.  Our native tress do not shed their leaves in the same way.  It wasn’t too long a wait and within a short period the carpark looked packed.  Steve then Rongy and Alana and very soon afterwards Andrew and Lachy pulled in:

It has been a while since we have all caught up so there was the need for a bit more banter before any action began on rock.  Also Andrew and Steve had not climbed a huge amount in recent months.  In fact Steve is at the tail end of his recovery from his last operation, and he advised that it was going very well.  That said I was insistent on, and he agreed to, a “no leading” rule for him during the first few times that we got him back on rock.  Rongy got the itch first and was ready to start climbing when he realised he couldn’t find his climbing shoes:

Luckily Steve had brought, I think it was, three pairs of shoes and fortunately one of them seemed to fit Rongy pretty well.  He plumped for Raging Torrent and to start with it all felt a bit new, resulting in the need to search about looking for the holds.  The shoes did their job, but he wasn’t on the rock for long before he noted that his fingers were starting to go numb.  Alana just looked on, and while I think she has heard of my approach of waiting till the first bolt is clipped to start belaying, she did look a little concerned to be witnessing it:

Andrew and I jumped on Welcome to Edges, and whether it was the cold rock, not having warmed up or just feeling a bit weary from yesterday’s day out I faltered on the first few moves.  However, once I conquered them things flowed a bit better.  Rongy and I switched lines so I could have a lead on Raging Torrent, and things started to flow even better.  When I got there Steve was looking down, it is not that he was feeling blue even though he was looking very blue.  I feel that he was just getting all muddled up with a choice of so many pairs of shoes:

I rattled off my line and we left the top rope set up for Andrew.  Then Steve suggested that another relaxed climb might be A Walk In Central Park.  I was however not so convinced the climb was named purposely as you never known when you might get into strife resulting in you falling off.  I have been told it is a bit like real walk in Central Park!  That and the cold rock would make it a tense lead.  Now before I started and as Rongy was leading Welcome to Edges I took this image and you might notice that Andrew had been learning from my bad habits, and even taking things a step further.  He is just now reaching for his belay device, after Rongy has clipped and is going past the first bolt:

As it was I needn’t have worried about being mugged in Central Park.  I climbed it with relative ease and my fingers never felt cold.  I reckon I had got my heart rate up a bit during the first two climbs, helping to keep the blood circulating, along with the internal warmth it brought to combat that cold rock.  As is the normal we all had a bit of a giggle at the horrendous chain set up at the top of the route, and being Steve’s creation it is also something he has indicated he would rectify on numerous occasions.  One day he might:

Andrew was keen for Lachy to have a bash at a climb, and it made sense to do this on Block and Tackle.  So before that could happen the rope had to be put up and I handed the pointy end to Andrew.  He did really well and when he committed to the crux moves he romped up it.  Lachy was however hesitant and while he had a bash it seemed like his heart was never really in it.  He had a couple of goes and got to the same height both times.  With climbing it’s usually best not to force things with novices, instead wait till they want to try to push harder.  As such Lachy didn’t jump on any other lines:

Every time I look round it seemed that Alana had moved her chair to a new location.  It was a little like playing Where’s Wally, and due to Alana wearing autumn colours at times you had to look twice before you spotted her new location.  Similar to Lisa yesterday she was quite happy being outside and reading her book.  I’m sure that given the choice she would have liked a bit more sun, something that doesn’t hit this area until later in the day:

While Lachy was having a couple of bashes at Block and Tackle and Alana was reading her book, Rongy moved across to Rock Therapy.  He launched up each of the steep and reachy moves, which the bottom three quarters of the climb throws at you, with seeming ease.  Then he stood at the base of the final wall for a fair bit longer, mustering up encourage before he committed to pulling on the spaced, small sharp holds, which are in complete contrast to the rest of the route.  It was not a route that Steve would be following up so I said I would, and before I got there the rope had been pulled so I too had to lead it:

There was just enough gas in the tank for one more route, and I could feel Rongy’s energy was at the same level.  Now Howsie had suggested that I climb Taj, and the idea did cross my mind.  But only very fleetingly.  Instead, and sorry Howsie, we decided on BBQ.  I’m pleased we did as it felt just hard enough but not so that I didn’t enjoy it.  It also felt slightly greasy and it is possible, not that we checked it, that the murky corner in which Taj sits would have felt even damper:

I pulled the rope down for Rongy and while he led BBQ, Steve was belaying Andrew as he finally had a bash at the first route of the day.  Andrew certainly battled his way up Raging Torrent, not being very climbing fit three Welly Dam climbs was enough to sap any last energy he had.  Now while we technically didn’t hit any of grade 20 routes that Howsie has to climb this year, it could be argued that Raging Torrent is a grade 20.  That is if you believe all the hype that is posted on The Crag about this route, something for Howsie to ponder on:

With that we started to pack away the gear, it seemed everyone had come prepared with ropes and gear.  Not only that but I also noticed that others seemed to have cottoned onto my use of “the Crate” for Welly Dam climbing sessions.  Today there were three crates on display.  Once the BBQ had been was cleared of gear Andrew and Lachy set about cooking up a batch of sangs.  Steve, Alana and Rongy wandered up to the café to get coffees.  And I sloped off home leaving them to it, so while Lou is right in that I am more social than I used to be I still pick and choose how far my sociability extends on any given day:

With semester one at the University of Western Australia done and dusted, there was a two week window of opportunity to get Lou back on rock before she would once again be immersed between the pages of some book or glued to her laptop.  She had come along for a boulder session at our place just last week at which she claimed to be “weak as”.  It was true and she climbed like a cabbage, so I didn’t have high hopes of getting too much done today.  Seeing I was heading out with Lou it was a slightly more reasonable departure time from home, which helped me to convince Lisa to make an appearance:

The carpark was empty, but on arrival at the crag we were not alone and we found a couple wandering along the base.  They were from New Zealand and had got stuck in Western Australia due to the lock downs and travel bans.  Yesterday they had cycled down and then spent the night camped out.  You might also notice a large boulder blocking the track, which had rolled down from the base of the Fat Chance Wall.  No damage was done to any climbs, but it is a sobering reminder that even the seemingly stable rocks we hop about on at the base of the cliff can be destabilised:

We started on Tom Thumb.  Today was all about trad, low grades and a bit of fun.  I was also not expecting Lou to do any of the leading, nor Alan who had said he would be joining us.  He rocked up just as Lou was making her way to the top of the first route, his timing I have to say was perfect.  And soon all three of us were at the top of the crag.  Lisa, in her usual fashion, was not climbing but instead found a comfy spot to settle into.  Where she slipped between reading her kindle, watching the waves, having a bit of a chat and having a wee snooze:

It was another stunning autumn morning and the waves were looking particular impressive today.  Light winds made for a smooth ocean other than for when the clean sets of thunderous waves rolled in.  Lisa loves the ocean and can spend hours memorised by the sight and sound of waves.  Back home we can hear them from our house, but the sound of those waves from Geographe Bay are faint in comparison the sound of these waves that come in from the Indian Ocean.  We were even treated to a small pod of dolphins surfing in, but only briefly before they leisurely moved away:

Next up was Thunder Thighs, a route that I recently did with Rongy.  Due to the number of times I get out and relatively small number of locations and routes I find myself climbing some lines a number of items in a short period.  When the guide was published in 2016 there were 490 routes spread across nine areas, and since then there haven’t been too many more added.  But when you like climbing for climbing’s sake, and don’t treat it as a sport, they never get boring.  Alan came up second on this one, and seemed to be copycatting me by getting his camera out mid climb to take a few snaps:

The reason for choosing the first two routes was that they are more traditional in nature.  It’s not that they don’t have bolts, more that they are not just face or cracking climbing.  They are varied in features and require a bit of jamming, bridging, lay backing, under clinging along with usual crimping and jug hauling.  I like climbs that mix it up, it keep them interesting and also keeps you on your toes.  This route is however a bit sparsely protected, there is enough there but you have to look around and practice good rope work to avoid any drag:

The chosen routes and their grades were perfect, I didn’t seem to be wearing either Lou or Alan out and they were keen for more.  That didn’t however stop the side effect of more than one climbing partner, intermission times for a bit of banter and catch-up.  On this route they got a bit more time, as I also belayed one of the campers up before breaking the belay.  We also noticed a fair few people wandering around the top and bottom of the crag, none of them were climbers.  The lock down really is making people get outdoors to explore the local area:

Then it was back to business, we were walking down between climbs today.  I felt that setting up a rap line might make it feel like there was some urgency to get more routes in.  But, and some may be surprised to hear or even non-believing in the fact that, the need to cram routes in never crossed my mind.  I was however quietly hoping to get four lines in and next up was Hope.  As I topped out I was aware of some people sat on the top to my left, enjoying the scenery.  They gave me a bit of an applause when I got up.  Not something I really enjoyed and I might have come across as a bit rude in not responding to their gesture, as Lou pointed out to me:

To show it was a slightly later start and that we were moving slowly, the sun had already bathed the entire face of the climb.  This made my fingertips start to sweat, but I stuck to today’s self-imposed no chalk rule and also stuck to just using wires on this route.  I did have a little hope in me that on such a day we might have come across the little Carpet Python that often sits atop the flake just above where Lou is.  But it was not to be today, there was however a little skink tucked deep into a crack that I was going to use for one of only four placements I used on this route:

You may have noticed that we were using my twin ropes.  The main reason being that with three people it is much easier than using a single rope.  With a single rope if you need to use too much for the belay, you then have to throw the rope back down for the third and it becomes a bit faffy.  With two ropes it also offered Alan the ability to put a bit of competition into the day, who would coil the rope fastest.  While highly entertaining I’m glad to say that this “friendly” competition only started after the third climb. That way it never got too heated and only allowed for some cheating tactics to be thought up and employed:

There’s a line which I had no recollection of ever climbing, and I couldn’t even remember if it was in the guide.  I spied it as I walked in and thought it would be a good one to do today, so that is where we headed next.  It looked OK from below and there seemed to be opportunities for solid protection all the way up.  The middle and upper part was however a little run out.  And while the tri-cam, now well below my feet, was in it just didn’t look that inspiring.  None of the holds felt familiar making me a little nervous, but fortunately the moves were too hard:

Lou wandered up claiming it to be a 10, and as Alan came up last and gave it an 11.  He also reckoned he found a better placement than my tri-cam so down went the wires so he could check it and then take an image, as evidence for later inspection.  We looked at it later, and it may have been marginally better but we didn’t think there was much in it.  Either way we all agreed it was a bold lead due to the gear, and now looking in the guide it seems that the climb is called Road Trip and is a grade harder than Hope.  It’s certainly not as hard as Hope but is a far bolder lead:

The sun was almost across the entire crag, a sign that midday had snuck upon us.  So we agreed that it was probably time to head out.  I scrambled down after showing the campers, who had been joined by a third person, where to set up a top rope for Hope and crept up on Lisa who had found yet another very comfortable rock armchair.  I gave her a bit of a start when I said hello, and she confessed that she had started to once again doze off.  Now fully awake she joined us as we packed up the gear ready to haul ourselves back up to the carpark:

I lost count of how many people were out walking while we were at the crag, but it was close to double digits.  The two campers were joined by a third as they started to top rope some routes, and as we walked out three more climbers were walking in.  On the short gravel road back to the tarmac four cars were coming in, and the number plates made us wonder if some people had broken the regional travel bans early.  From Monday more regional travel is allowed, and it is very likely that this place will be much busier meaning even more watchful eyes.  Can’t say I’m looking forward to that: