Taking the Backseat

I general don’t have an issue with early starts.  In summer it means we get more climbing in before the sun hits and I can also get home at a more reasonable time.  It does however mean that I play Russian roulette driving out of the little place we live past the tuart forest.  The large trees line the road and can conceal kangaroos, as they too take advantage of the cool time of the day to graze on whatever greenery they can find.  The easy solution being to drive to the conditions, but with the trees so close even driving slowly doesn’t always work:

On Sunday morning it went OK, and while I did see a few kangaroos I didn’t have to do any emergency braking to avoid them.  This was true for the whole trip that also took me through state forest.  I was heading south by the inland road, as opposed through the usual agricultural land I pass when I go via Margaret River and the smaller towns along that road.  The reason for the alternate route being that I was heading to the most southerly crag along the Naturaliste coast line.  As I approached and crossed the Blackwood River both the mist and sun were rising:

The last leg of the journey to Cosy Corner takes you along a short stretch of Caves Road, as it weaves its way through the majestic and towering Karri trees of Boranup forest.  In the early morning sunlight it is a stunning sight.  Despite my “keep going” attitude to climbing that is very evident once we are on rock, for me is not just about the rock but the whole experience and that includes the journey there and back again.  Today having taken a different route with new sights to see I stopped a few times on the way down to capture some of the sights:

When I put the word out on our local WhatsApp group Howsie told me his brother Mikey was over with the family and that the two of them had planned a morning climbing.  They had both climbed here when they were kids.  While Howsie and I have climbed here it was Mikey’s first time of coming back here to climb.  It’s a short walk along the cliff top to the main area, and in the morning light the ochre coloured granite glowed.  Underfoot the familiar feel of great friction that this rock offers started to build up the excitement of what was to come:

Mikey has not been on the floppy end or placed trad for a while now, and we used that as an excuse to start gently and warm up.  Bland is an easy stroll but a good one for getting used to the rock and style.  There is a need to continually knock the blocks and flakes to make sure they sound solid enough to trust, everyone’s trust level varies but is heightened when the rope is below you.  Climbing with three gave me the chance to wear my rap rope down a bit more and I spent considerable time hanging in my harness watching the climbing from various angles:

The tide was low and there was no swell to speak off, it was so low that we were able to belay from the base of the black dolerite band below the granite.  The water looked incredibly inviting and I kind of wished that I had brought my snorkel gear.  There are a few large bommies and I can image that they and the hidden caves below them would be teaming with life.  However, there was not the time for that , even if I had my snorkel gear.  And soon enough Mikey was topping out and setting up the belay to bring Howsie and then myself up:

The climbing along the main area is in sectors and while on a day like today you could scramble along the dolerite slab, we instead moved the rap line from place to place.  Mainly to allow me to make use of it, but also having a third person we could more efficiently move the rope and it didn’t slow down the proceedings.  For the next route there was no need to move the rope, and there is no way we could have missed this line out.  It was the scene of an epic (it gets more embellished with time) self-rescue by none other than Glen when he fell and broke his foot:

Bad Directions was put up by Steve, and after I followed up with Dan we pronounced it as a fun low grade route.  It was however noted as being a little serious due to a large flake that was perched, but not attached.  Having been up it a few more times now it is clear that Dan and I underestimated the grade, and for that all I can do is apologies.  Glen fell from where Howsie is in the image below, but it was his gear being way off to the side that resulted in the severity of his fall.  Howsie took his time and placed the cam Glen should have before the next move:

Mikey gave the perched flake a gentle tug and soon released it with a look of horror in his face.  It is pretty big, in fact its enormous when you consider the length of the route.  We discussed whether we should try and dislodge it, but based on it being referenced in the guide we decided not to.  After all there is a slab and crack to the left of the disconcerting feature that is equally fun to climb and of consistent difficulty to the rest of the route.  After that exciting introduction to Cosy Corner we moved onto another section:

Mikey was up next and having watched how he was coping with being back on the floppy end I steered him towards Crystal Cut.  The low tide and swell meant that he could get the most out of this route and start right at the very base.  This way you get forced to squeeze in behind the big flake as you try to place your gear deep in the crevice.  The climb is very appropriately named, before you get to the solid granite there is a band of chunky quartz crystals.  They can make you nervous as you wonder if they will come off or shatter if you load the gear:

Finally a thank god hold is reached, and from below it is a blind hold making it feel extra rewarding when you get it.  With it comes solid gear that you don’t need to wonder about.  From here you leave all the sharp quartz behind and quite possibly a bit of blood, which Mikey did cutting his knee as he squeezed his way up the line.  It is certainly not all over and there are more challenges ahead.  Having bumped the grade up a few notches you could see him starting to tire and sit on the holds a little longer trying to shake out:

You may notice that I missed out on having a lead.  This was on purpose these guys don’t get out as much as I do and I have led all these routes a few times, so I was more than happy to be the photographer and then enjoy a top rope belay with no gear to take out after they were done.  I was keen to try the steep wall that can be seen behind Mikey, there are no recorded routes on it but it looks like there may be a couple worth trying.  However, the blistering sun was beating down on it and we agreed it would have been foolish thing to do:

As I waited for Mikey to top out and then Howsie to follow I sat and watched the waves lap the base of the dolerite slab.  The waves came in sets and every so often they would lap higher up into a rock pool and then slowly drain back out through cracks.  The crabs were clustered in these cracks picking off algae and other nourishment.  The occasional higher wave fully immersed them and then washed over them as the water escaped.  They didn’t budge once as this happened.  It was pretty cool to watch, which they allowed me to without scuttling away:

It was time to move the rap line again.  Last time I came here with Howsie, we sat atop the crag looking at Pat-a-Cake and Petropunster.  A family of swallows had nested in the base of the crack of Pat-a-Cake, and we could see the mum, dad and a chick.  So we left them in peace and found a new wall putting up two new routes called Three Little Birds and Away from the Nest.  Today there was no sign of the swallows nesting so he was keen to try one of these lines, he was unsure which to go for leaving the decision right until the two lines go different ways:

He decided on Pat-a-Cake a route on which I have taken one of my favourite images, which is of Wiggins tentatively working his way up this feisty line with Alan belaying below.  It didn’t make it into the guide which I was a little sad about.  I’ve seen a number of people struggle on this route, the easier of the two Howsie had been eyeing up.  I imagine that he was probably happy with his choice, as it required some serious focus and concentration keeping you on your toes (check out the smeary foothold) until you top out of the crack on the slick rounded slab:

When we first arrived Howsie had been talking up Sink or Swim the very exposed traverse that follows the horizontal fault at the top of the cave shown the background of this image.  However, it was heating up and felt muggy, and so we plumped for two routes on the longest wall.  There are three routes on this section and all of them are primo, sustained with good gear and great positions.  Mikey was up and started up the classic Loose Lips, which starts easily and steadily steepens up becoming more technical with smaller and more spaced holds:

The backdrop for this section, the last before the cave, is spectacular.  The weed on top of the large flat bommies clear visible in the crystal clear water.  The steep wall with no routes was just starting to come into shade, but the rock would be hot and in the increasingly sticky weather would feel disgusting.  A wall to explore in the shoulder season when the ocean is still calm but it is warm enough to avoid the cracks seeping or worse running with water.  Meanwhile Mikey was making good progress, with bomber gear he was looking more confident:

I dashed up to the top to watch him enter the bottomless corner, that provides an exciting finale.  The headwall is undercut by a good half meter and you have to fully commit with lots of space below you, and the gear tucked under the roof.  He cranked down on the holds and got his right foot out on the wall, which gives a welcome edge.  Then the left foot finds a good hold and you can relax a bit more but still need to stay focused until you exit the corner.  As Mikey exited and I rapped down to join Howsie:

With no breeze the flies were a little on the friendly side, and hidden amongst them was the occasional mosquito.  Fortunately they were not as thick as the flies and I only spied a couple, this one not in time to avoiding it having a last super on my blood.  I’ve got a particular dislike for these creatures, which started after living in Ghana for two years is the late 1990s.  During my time there I contracted malaria twice, and then once more as I brought the virus back to England in my bloodstream.  Strangely before that time these critters never bothered me:

It was time to rap down one last time, Howsie was up and we had to even up the numbers.  Behind you can see the strangely shaped limestone islands, their base gets eroded by the continual lapping of the ocean resulting in mushroom type features.  A few months back some teenagers were spear fishing here and the vibrations of the distressed fish they speared attracted three bull sharks, which proceeded to circle them.  They sought refuge on these limestone islands and had to wait to be rescued.  Despite that tale I’m still keen to snorkel here:

For the last route of the morning I steered Howsie to Chickpoint, a narrowing crack line that ends with thin edges up a steep wall.  It requires a clam approach to get to the top of the crack, which is where Howsie is at in this image.  He somehow missed the best hold on this section, a nice in-cut pocket half way up the crack.  Instead he lay-backed the narrow edge making the route a grade if not two harder.  Eventually your path gets blocked by the roof, I’ve tried to go direct over the roof but have yet to manage it.  Instead the route traverses right:

As he tiptoed under the roof he put his foot on a seemingly solid limestone feature, a large printer sized block fell away and hit the ramp below.  The soft material exploded and showered Mikey in sand and whatever else was hidden in the strange material.  Howsie didn’t come off and made his way to the end of the roof where a positive layback corner awaited him.  The last few exposed moves saw him back in the sun ready to belay us two up the route.  We both made use of the in-cut pocket and managed to completely avoid touching the exploding holds:

It was time to pack up and head out, on top of the crag with no respite from the sun we didn’t feel the need to hang about.  We sorted the gear before shouldering the packs and making out way back to the car.  It was then time to go our separate ways, but hopefully with the festive period coming up and a bit of time off I’ll get Mikey out again before he has to head back east.  On the drive home the visibility was deteriorating, as smoke haze hung in the hot still air.  It’s pretty amazing how in these conditions we still manage a great morning of climbing:

Pièce de résistance

The last time I caught up with Kym was just under a year ago, it was not for lack of trying but each successive attempt to get down was thwarted one way or another.  So after a long stint of mid to high thirty degree days I found myself driving down to Albany on Friday afternoon last week.  The temperature was above 37 the whole journey until approximately 30km from Albany, and as I rolled into Kym’s driveway it was a mere twenty four degrees, bliss!  I dumped my gear in the caravan and then caught up with Kym, Meg and the kids:

With three kids, Tessa, Claire and Beau, from five to less than a year old the mornings are pretty hectic in their house.  All three kids are early risers and full of beans, in fact Beau doesn’t sleep much at all and even when he does it is only for an hour or two, even overnight.  So not surprisingly our starts were not at the crack of dawn but we did get out at a reasonable time on the Saturday and headed for the Porongurup’s.  Just our luck it was due to rain today, but we were both keen and decided to just get out there and face whatever was thrown at us:

I’ve only climbed at Gibraltar Rock, the biggest monolith in the Porongurup’s, once and that was more than nine years back as I don’t have a trip report from it.  I recall the walk in and out being horrendous and I wasn’t looking forward to that.  But things have changed, and I found out the last time I approached the crag in a dumb way.  The fire break was wide and clear and when we got to the obvious stakes to mark the trail Kym went ahead just to make sure it was way to go.  The track through the bush was easy to follow and soon we were at the base:

The reason for the track being so easy now is that a new route was put up nine years back (after my first and only trip here) which has a sensible amount of bolts.  This has encouraged more people to come here to climb.  Most of the routes are long, runout and have a serious feel to them.  We were going to tackle a route that had a certain fear factor to it, but it had been recently rebolted and that encouraged us to give it a go.  Surrounded by tall trees there was a calm feel to the place, it was cloudy but dry and the winds were light:

Pitch one was a long rope stretching romp, nothing too hard or scary but good fun.  The route seemed to follow a strong natural line and this offered natural protection.  The second pitch was the choice pitch, and seeing Kym had not done any trad climbing since my last trip it seemed only fair to give him the primo pitch.  It is not to say he has not been climbing, he has done stacks of bouldering, and some really serious stuff.  So he was strong and technically in good shape, the question was whether he had the stamina for the long routes:

Now being a good natural line up an otherwise solid lump of granite, meant that this is where the water would naturally flow.  In fact without the water flowing down the line it probably wouldn’t exists.  The recent hot week had made sure the climb was bone dry, but with more regular moisture collecting in the crack year round it was also full of moss.  The start of the second pitch was a grovel up a body width peapod crack, with not much gear and plenty of moss that tumbled down as Kym knocked it off:

Eventually he exited the wide crack and was faced with the imposing steep finger crack.  It has been a while since he has had to trust natural protection and you could tell he was nervous, which was compounded by the initial gnarly wide crack.  So he took his time and as he got higher became more confident.  The crack continued to steepen to a little overhanging and the line continued to get more technical.  Smears for feet and long reaches to the next good hold, but not useable until you brushed the moss out, which kept tumbling down to me:

It was an epic 40m pitch, varied climbing and sustained.  The finger crack was not as good as it looked from below and on occasion was no more than fingertip deep and flared.  You had to layback this most of the way up smearing your feet on the left wall, occasionally finding a better bridging stance but ones that still made you work.  Part way up the crack there was a bomber placement and some previous climber had left a wire there, it was not stuck and we could lift it out.  It was however rusted so we left it for the next party (whenever that might be):

Pitch three was mine, and I was feeling pretty stuffed from that last one!  This is where the bolts came into play, the crack had blanked out, but to the left was a rising flake feature.  A blind and flared flake so no good for gear but OK to hang onto.  It required a super thin traverse to get across and then some awesome moves heading up the flake.  Kym had his phone and I had my camera and on occasion we seemed to take images at the same time.  It did mean that there will be more images of me than usual:

After the middle two pitches the next three were far easier.  Not quite a solo scramble as there were a couple of bolts for each 40m pitch just to make it that little bit sane.  The hardest part was belaying, either giving out or taking in rope fast enough to keep up with the climber.  We were well above the tree line and the huge trunks looked like matchsticks.  It was still cloudy, but the rain was holding off.  After six pitches we were on top, a quick drink and we were heading back down.  Usually one big route here is enough but we wanted to bag another:

So after taking on and climbing Joint Venture (20) we eyed up Raven (15), this was the line that had made the place more appealing to the less adventurous climbers.  Kym was involved in bolting this line and it was reputed to be the most protected line on the crag, with bolts being spaced at approx. 4m intervals.  The good thing about more climbers coming here was the track was in better condition, and during a recent rescue (for a stranded hiker) the emergency services like it so much that they GPS’d it and have put funds aside to maintain the track:

Raven was equally long but only had five pitches.  It started up a fun crack in which a skink was hiding.  I sat there patiently as it checked me out and decided it was best to move on.  After exiting the crack it proceeded to climb head first down the line I had just come up, making me feel just a little inadequate in my climbing capability!  The climbing was fun, consistent and with no nasty surprises.  With a much reduced grade to our first route the pitch was over quickly, not that I was trying to rush things:

Kym followed up just as quick and didn’t even bother to hand the backpack over, as we had on the more serious line.  We also only had to carry quick draws, no need for natural protection on this line.  All these little things speeded the changeovers up and we moved on, but not without plenty of images being taken.  In fact we were both guilty of probably a few too many selfie images, and I could almost make up an entire email of them!  The belays were comfy and well placed, allowing us to sit back and enjoy the scenery:

To the north I could see the Stirling Ranges, a place that in my mind is even more serious than here.  Loose rock, runout routes, hard route finding and longer lines that really can take all day to get to, climb, and get off.  There were some bushfires raging in the national park and so the peaks were only just visible, being mostly obscured in smoke.  It didn’t take long for Kym to get to the end of pitch two, which is located in a cave.  To the south we could see darkening clouds and wondered whether we should sit it out, but I decided against that idea:

I exited the cave to the right and then it was the crux move of the climb to get established above the overlap.  Then it was back to the same consistent climbing that we were getting used too.  The wind was picking up significantly, so much in fact it was soon howling and whistling past us.  Being a relatively easy grade route the wind didn’t put me off, in fact it invigorated and even heightened the experience.  It slowed me down a bit but that was also in part due to maybe tiring a little, after all we had already climbed 300m:

Kym followed me with the wind getting stronger, the slings were being blown horizontal and as I coiled the rope, as he climbed, that too was being blown horizontal.  You can probably tell that I actually enjoy these conditions, and it seemed Kym was having a ball too!  He led up the next pitch and as I followed up and about half way up the temperature plummeted by probably ten degrees and it felt cold.  We knew what was coming so I quickly went past him and finished of the last pitch.  There were two parties at or near the top and they intended to abseil down:

We advised them against it, the rope drag would be heightened when the rain hit but they didn’t listen.  So we walked back down, and got there way before they were even in sight.  It was time for some food, when suddenly we could hear rocks cutting through the air and we were in the firing line of hand sized flakes that they had knocked off the top.  The sound was incredible and as Kym ran for cover I watched them come down to avoid running into their path.  The choice was made to shoulder our pack and start the walk out, as the rain fell in earnest:

The black slab that Kym is standing on was treacherous and we took a few tumbles getting down it, but after having avoided the deadly rock fall we were in high spirits and took the falls in our stride.  Looking back up at the mighty monolith of Gibraltar Rock, we didn’t think the two parties that were now abseiling down in pouring rain would be in the same high spirits.  It looked miserable up there and we wondered if we should stick around to help them out, but both agreed it was safer for us not to be underneath them.  So we turned and carried on walking:

The next day it rained in the morning, but we remained hopeful.  Jon was coming round at 8am and we were off to the spectacular West Cape Howe.  It’s a mission to get in there with a sandy track, which in dry conditions can get pretty difficult to navigate.  The morning rain had however helped and we got in with ease, and we were soon standing on the precipice looking down at the mighty cliffs that soar straight out the ocean.  Today however we were not climbing on these more frequented cliffs, and instead kept driving further south along the headland:

Kym and I were taken to Convicts Corner, which has a couple of old routes in the currently WA guide book, but is rarely visited.  Jon and others had visited the area some five odd years back and found/established a bunch of new lines, some trad and some they bolted.  Since then they had never come back and so the lines had remained untouched.  Without the local knowledge the place would not have been easy to find, it not only was hidden by bush but also required an abseil to get access to the upper shelf:

At the shelf we were greeted by a huge rock foot, I love finding these features and am fascinated at how they came to be.  This one really does look like a proper sole in so many ways.  It was also the gateway to the delights of our days climbing.  The morning the rain had passed, but it was still cloudy and there was a bit of a breeze.  That would not only help dry any moisture left on the rock but also keep the flies at bay, so conditions were looking good.  After we had all rapped own it was time to set up base camp:

There was a perfect flat and shaded shelf that had an amazing view out over the Southern Ocean.  The swell was low and so there was no spray in the air, the clouds started to split into a mosaic allowing for both shade and just a bit of sun to keep us warm.  It was looking likely to be a great day at West Cape Howe!  It does however have to be said that this place can feel very intimidating, and having played on our relatively safe and small local cliffs for so long it took me a little while to desensitise to the more extreme conditions of this place:

We rapped down under Jon’s instructions to bag the second ascent of one of their new lines.  Deciding to start sensibly and then see where we ended up, this line started from a shelf part way down the wall.  Below was a huge rock shelf, and we wanted to check out the conditions to see just how high up the small swell of the day would wash onto that before we decided to go all the way down.  Keen to climb I started the day with Beggars Banquet, a pleasant and direct grade 15.  No nasty surprises just nice consistent climbing back up to where we came:

We made use for the shelf to start the first three climbs, the shelf below was getting a fair bit of action and so we decided that we would play it safe.  In the image above you will see a super impressive wall behind Kym, this is as yet and amazingly untouched wall.  It stood out as an stunning and completely natural line, which while a bit zig-zagging took in some incredible territory.  Today was not the day for that wall, but should we return Kym and I are already frothing over it and have decided we would attempt a ground up full trad first ascent:

The second line was Stress Test and indeed testy at grade 21.  The initial slab off the belay had a couple of thin blind seams, with just enough of an edge to curl the tips of your fingers round and rotate a few millimetres of the edge of our climbing shoes onto.  It was super thin and balancy.  The crux move needing full control and core strength, letting go with both hands and going for a hold that really isn’t a hold.  After that the pace eased into a perfect hand jam crack, today I had to full on jam on some lines and I have the scars to prove it:

The third line was a grade 16 that took an exposed traverse of the right hand end of the shelf, you step across nothing with 20m of air to the deep blue below.  By now I was getting used to the situation and less worried, allowing me to relax into the climbing and enjoy the sound of the waves, coolness of the wind and touch of the rock.  West Cape Howe is a very special place and has so much potential for new routes.  If I lived closer I do believe that this would be my Swanage, which was my favourite place to climb in England and is equally intimidating:

The upper section of the third line, which we still do not know the name off, comprised a rounded rib with rock textured like a reptiles back.  The scales had brown surfaces, but in-between the scales were groves etched into the black granite that lay beneath.  The holds comprised these rounded groves.  It really did flow and was such fun, the only shame being that this section didn’t go for the full length of the route.  Kym followed up equally impressed with the rock texture, as the ocean boiled beneath him:

Next up was one of the longer routes here, it started from the base of the crag but with the shelf being wave washed today we started from a shelf and accessed it via a fine crack that started wide and got progressively narrower.  It was pretty funny that when I rapped down to Kym, as he was setting up the trad belay, I forgot to bring the lead ropes down.  It was a good job that Jon was with us and he saved the day, and me from having to prussic 40’ish meters back up.  Soon enough Kym was on his way, as the sun poked over the top of the cliff:

The 40m line was insanely good, the left rising crack narrowed and became more and more technical before spitting you out onto a steepening slab that went to full vertical.  Here horizontal breaks provided foot and hand holds that got smaller and more spaced the higher you got.  Kym took his time lapping up the moves and position, and so it was that we put up an alternative start to the bottom half of Lab Rat, grade 18.  Kym is yet to name the new climb, but the grade remains the same.  Very cool indeed:

Kym was also stoked, and rightly so.  Considering he last climbed trad a year ago and has been pinching pebbles since then.  The daunting wall behind him still called out to us but we were starting to tire and the thought of such a long unknown route with two roofs to tackle was too much for us.  Instead we had a bit to eat and after that left Jon to play on the rap line on the routes we had just climbed.  We were heading to another wall, a line that again had only had the first ascent done and not been touched since:

When we first came down Jon had said this was the line to bag, and he reckoned it was the best grade 15 in WA.  It looked impressive, but to do it justice I had decided to get a few climbs under my belt to get used to the atmosphere and climbing style.  Every new place has its own peculiarities including the protection, holds and moves.  Also as the day wore on this route kept coming up, and each time it did the grade changed.  From 15 to 17, then it was an 18 or 19, maybe it was harder but Jon’s memory was fuzzy and so there was only one way to find out:

Glen the micro-cams came in very handy both on Saturday and even more so today.  This line that currently has two names of Fingerlocks and The Wooden Box ascends a 30m pillar with a crack that splits it up the middle almost to the top but not quite.  The crack starts wide and narrows, and as it narrows becomes less deep.  The gear starts with a number 2 camalot and goes all the way down the smallest micro-cam.  It has rests being slight off vertical but they get more tenuous as you get higher, and you need to trust smeary holds with great friction:

The climb requires hands down to finger locks, and it gets tricky when the crack is too narrow to even get a toe in.  Then you have to rely on full smears and at one point I had to use a finger ring lock with full vengeance, the first crux.  Kym was keen for me to keep an eye on him on this one, but I took a bunch of sneaky images as he inched his way up the line.  It has one bolt at the top where the seams just won’t take any gear but other than that it was full trad.  A wicked line that kept me on my toes the whole way up:

At the position below I was stumped for ages, eventually piking out right using features near the arête.  I kept looking back and felt like I had cheated, so decided to reverse the moves to get back to the stance that Kym is at.  Somehow I pulled them off and was then faced with again trying to go direct.  I placed a worthless tri-cam and procrastinated for even longer looking at how bad it was, before eventually summing up the guts to smear my feet and pull on the small holds hoping for a better hold above, which thankfully was good enough to pull through with:

I was floating as I belayed Kym up, relishing the route I’d just climbed and it is fair to say that is one of the best lines I have climbed.  I pondered the grade, comparing it to the other lines we had just done but also the more recent routes I’ve climbed at Willyabrup and Esperance.  Even at grade 19 I reckon people would call it a sandbag, but that is the grade I’d plump for.  Better still Jon had been watching and was very pleased when I went direct, on the first ascent they had gone right.  So both Kym and I sent a first ascent even if they were both variants:

So as per the Cambridge dictionary definition of “pièce de résistance”, I feel like we had left till last the best and most important or exciting thing, often the last in a series of things.  We were pretty toasted and ready to haul ourselves back up the rap line.  But before we passed the sacred gates that showed the hidden path through the bush, we scrambled along the top of the cliff to get a good look at the cliffs we had just climbed, as well as the most southern headland of Australia, shown above, with still soooo much new route potential:

Kym drove us out, the warm day had dried any moisture that was in the sand and it had become soft and fluffy.  With deflated tyres, 4WD, locked diffs and a bit of speed and high revs Kym sailed over the track until we came across this sight.  The poor guy had blown his diff and was trying to get out in 2WD, a hopeless struggle!  So we ended up literally pushing his car up the last 50 odd meters of hill as he revved the guts out of it inching ever so slowly along.  After that hill he must have managed to get through as we didn’t see him again:

It was my third and last night at Kym and Meg’s place, where the hospitality is top notch.  After clearing the days toys away, sorting through and sharing images and having a good feed we hit the sack.  I was up early but hung about at least until the kids had got up so I could say a proper good bye, while Meg was enjoying a well-deserved lie in after allowing me to drag (hardly) Kym out for two solid days climbing.  By 6:30 I was in the car and pulling out of the driveway, like I said their kids get up early although this morning Tessa had had a lie in:

On the road back I dodged monitor lizards and more birds than I could count including galahs, ring necks, crested pigeons, magpies, corellas, rosellas and even wedge tailed eagles.  Missing them all as I watched the landscape change from the dramatic far off Porongurup’s and Stirling Ranges, which were still on fire; wide paddocks with hay bales ready to be collected, as I skirted the wheat and wool belt; and finally state forest.  As I passed Boyanup only half an hour from home I popped in to surprise Lisa while she was at school and had a cuppa with her:

I really think I need to pop down to Albany to see Kym and his family, plus get just a little climbing in, a bit more often than once a year.

Stars on 45

Over the last week and bit I have had a few dips in our local waters and found a few gems.  I’ve been a bit busy and also had a few days away climbing so thought I would provide you with a short but worthy collection of the best sights.  And what better way to kick off the proceedings than with a real star, an orange mosaic sea star.  Now for those who really do read these emails in the last one I call a similar looking sea star a biscuit sea star, it seems those common names are interchangeable (although it depends on who you ask) but who cares this one was a beauty:

I spied quite a few of them on this particular day and what I noted more than before was the spilt at the end of their arms, it almost looks like a mouth and from it protrude searching almost translucent tentacles.  The tube like feet on the underside of the sea star are used for both movement and getting food to its mouth, while I understand that the ones at the end of the arms are like noses that respond to physical or chemical stimuli and help the sea star find food.  I’ve yet to figure out what the mouth like opening and small hole on top of each arm is for:

I’ve had fun looking through the kelp.  I’ve learnt to spend my time staying still and occasionally duck diving and creeping up on these patches.  Sometimes I find small creatures while other times I don’t need to duck dive as some fish just sit there and watch my every move, such as this Brown Spotted Wrasse.  Like the sea star this one also goes by several common names including an Orange Spotted Wrasse.  There are not many dives that I don’t see these guys and something I didn’t know was that they change sex from female to male during their life:

Another common find is the Western Striped Cardinal Fish, it lurks in amongst the weed and nooks and crannies of the limestone reef.  I usually find these small fish by themselves, they don’t seem to be in shoals and they are very skittish and quick to dart for cover.  That said it doesn’t take them too long to become brave again and they poke their head out to see if I am still about.  I need to sneak up on them if I really want to have a good look, and on this occasion managed to get not a bad shot before my lungs needed air:

Now while this image seems a little murky I simply had to include it, I spied the pencil sea urchin as the weed swayed gently back and forth.  Then popping down for a closer inspection and sneaky image I managed to take the snap just as a McCulloch’s Scalyfin popped it’s head out of the little cave.  These fish and very striking with their fluorescent blue dotted lines, and are one of the damselfish.  The fluorescent colours indicate that this is a juvenile, as the adults loose the striking visual effects and become mostly black:

We have had an early and hot start to summer.  Plenty of still balmy mornings with the mercury already in the mind twenties by 8 or 9 and not a breeze to be felt.  The ocean is perfectly flat in these conditions but unfortunately I’m either travelling to or already at work, and by the time I’m back home the wind has usually come in and the swell and waves start to pick up.  If I do get down when it is like this you can immediately tell if there are any shoals of fish in the shallows by the ripple effect that can be seen in this image:

In the crystal clear water I came across another urchin, this time it was quite literally stuck to the leafs of the kelp.  When I first saw it, it was almost completely wrapped in kelp.  I kept coming back to the same spot and each time it had moved position.  Instead of spines it had lots of tentacles like the underside of a sea star.  They were continually searching out looking for something to sucker onto.  It is called a Collector Urchin, and they will often be found with small rocks, shells, debris or anything else it can get to use for protection or camouflage:

On a day that was not quite as clear, and just when I thought there would be nothing to write home about I came across a very stunning looking fish, this one was probably about a foot long and maybe a tad more.  I immediately took a snap from the surface and have cropped the image for you.  As soon as I duck dived to get a closer inspection the fish was gone, I did find it again but yet again it darted off like a flash and the image I got is even more blurry.  It is a Long-snout Boarfish, another solitary fish and one that I really hope to find again one day:

Just before my weekend away climbing Lisa and I went down after work one day and the water didn’t look too bad, but was a bit choppy on top.  All those jelly fish that were around before seemed to be disappearing, so I wondered what I might find in the less that ideal conditions.  Then I came across this very colourful anemone, I’m guessing it is a Tube Anemone but I cannot find anything online that looks like it.  It is also possible that it is a Bead Anemone, as it looks like it has the blobby body to retract in unlike other Tube Anemones I’ve seen:

On that last dive and as I made my way back to the beach I came across a shoal of whitebait.  So did a bit of duck diving and they erratically shot this way and that in what looked like organised chaos, and would no doubt have made that ripple effect on the surface if it had not been quite so choppy.  That was the last dive from which I have pulled this emails images from so I hope you enjoyed the collection of hits, which some of you may remember was a great way to get a compilation of the stars on 45 when vinyl was the way to go:

Snorkelable

After a great Saturday morning climbing, the mercury was creeping up to 30 as I got home. The trees swayed and the wind was up, so I guessed that a snorkel to cool down would be out of the question. However, I was wrong. There was not a stir on the flat waters off the beach, no waves and no swell. Not only that but the water looked clear, I could see the sand without any murkiness floating in the water, so my hopes were up. However, before I could head out I needed to get home clear my climbing gear away and at least say hello to Lisa:

There are not heaps of images in this email, which might indicate that I didn’t see much.  But there was lots to see and the conditions were perfect.  Today I just didn’t fancy chasing the fish round trying to get that perfect image.  I was content with bobbing out on the surface for most of the time just taking in the amazing colours and light, and just enjoying seeing the life dart this way and that but mostly scamper for cover as they saw me nearing them.  Straight off the beach a large school of small fish circled me and followed me for a while as I went out:

I kept seeing jelly fish, not the hideous stingers that are sure to arrive just in time for the school holidays when all the tourists rock up and invade the beach, but gentle jelly looking creatures.  You can feel them as they slip along your body as you swim along.  I would normally try to avoid disturbing them but the ocean was full of them, it was quite literally a jelly soup out there.  I tried to capture a few close up but they are so translucent that the camera’s auto focus doesn’t pick them up:

With it being so clear the sunlight had an unobstructed journey through the water and bounced off, seemingly dancing, on the gently swaying weeds.  In these conditions just sitting there watching the kelp is an amazingly calming experience.  I know there are many creatures hidden away in there but today there was no sense of need to search them out.  The kelp gentle swaying with jelly fish all around was enough.  I spied leather jackets, box fish, the biggest globe fish I have seen and even the odd squid keeping a healthy distance from me:

I did duck dive a few times to see what was round.  Sea stars, sand gobblers, hermit crabs tucked in their rented shells and even a crab that very quickly scuttled under a rock shelf.  I also found and was intrigued by a couple of corals that were coated in tiny black things.  The only way I can describe them is they looked like tadpoles, a bulbous head and skinny tail, which seemed to be what was sticking them to the coral.  I found quite a few like this and can only assume these are eggs, if these conditions continue it’s going to be a good snorkelling season:

I was starting to feel cold, I don’t wear a wetsuit on some boardies.  I can last about 45min in the water before I need to get out and it felt like I was getting close to that point.  I was not going to rush back to the shore so took my time.  Swimming over the last rocky reef with kelp I spied someone looking back at me.  I stayed here for a while and this fish would poke it’s head out and watch me then, as if in a seductive dance slowly come out and swish about above the weed before going back in, and then repeat the exercise:

This continued for quite a few rounds, and I daren’t duck dive in case I scared him away.  Instead I enjoyed it from above, the water was fairly shallow here and with the clarity I had a perfectly good view from above.  I don’t recall seeing this fish before, so was keen to identify it and am pretty sure it is a Herring Cale, the striking almost glowing blue streak in the tail giving it away.  Eventually I had to keep moving, so I made my way back over the sands to the beach where the waters warmed up.  Tomorrow promises to be just as good, I’ve got my fingers crossed:

The Mechanic

Last weekend I bailed on a trip out, mostly due to having work done at our house but also due to not feeling that great.  It had been a busy few weeks and life stuff had simply got in the way of climbing, which for me is pretty unusual.  Lisa and I tend to cram stacks in during the week and attempt to keep our weekends as free as possible for the fun stuff, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way.  This weekend I was keen to get out and the conditions were looking good, Rongy jumped at the chance and Craig was a last minute straggler:

We plumped for Wilyabrup, there was some discussion going on with Glen and Lou.  However, they seemed content with a later start, somewhere more cruisy, and were also eyeing up proximity to a brewery for an after climb beer!  So while they were probably fast asleep we were stood on top of the cliffs at just past 5:30 on Saturday, watching the dolphins seemingly playing dangerously close to the reef and risking getting stuck.  There was one car in the carpark already but as made our way down it was evident that we were the first climbers of the day:

We parked our gear in the usual place under the capping roof near the classic of Hope.  In the path lay a very big rock, and we were umming and ahhing about where it had come from.  It had the obvious signs of impacts so it had come from above, but there were no obvious rock scars on the face above of a freshly fallen block that stuck out.  The only possibility that we could see was a niche on Glory and so it was that Craig put forward that he would climb Glory to see if we could find out.  However he was not all that keen on the first lead:

Now we would normally start a day relatively sensibly, by warming up and then increasing the pace as we went.  But I was keen to jump on a few things that I haven’t climbed in a while and so we set ourselves that task.  Thinking about the criteria I headed for the Unbolted and the Beautiful.  At grade 16 this probably is not that bad a grade, but some would no doubt question the warm up nature of this route.  It’s a little bit of a sand bag but having put it up I was fully prepared for the delights it had on offer, taking my time and hanging on holds to stretch out:

Once we were all up we Craig was probably getting his head into gear for Glory, a much more sensible warm up climb.  However, as we sorted the gear and coiled the rope I noticed the tell-tell signs at the top of Glory, clearly someone had rolled a rock along the top and pushed it over the edge.  We looked down and it was pretty clear that is where the rock had come from, you really have to question the sense in what they had done.  But more importantly it meant Craig didn’t need to climb Glory simply to find out where the rock came from:

So it was that we found ourselves, after a bit of coaxing from Rongy and myself at the base of Fat Chance.  Last weekend Howsie had put the word out that he was bring a few newbies out to throw a couple of lines down and give them a go.  Craig joined them, and more for him than them he threw a rope down Fat Chance for a play.  As such he had done a couple of laps on this fine route just recently and was feeling like he might be able to pull off a lead.  He also has two distinct advantages over us mere mortals and made the route look like a cake walk:

His first advantage is reach, whist not overall tall and just a smidge taller than myself he has a crazy ape index that can give him several inches greater reach.  Obviously this results in him bypassing tricky sections by simply getting the next hold.  Next is his mechanic forearms, working on forklifts day in day out he has remarkable grip strength and so can hold onto things that others struggle on.  Now while he was keeping pace with Rongy and I today, keep in mind that he has only been out climbing a handful of times this year and does no training:

The great thing about climbing with three is that I got to bring my rap rope to allow me to check out a few different camera angles.  It hadn’t been used for the first or second route, but I carried it up on this one as the next line would offer some opportunities.  For Craig’s route I was able to use some long slings and simple hang off them over the edge of where Rongy is sat as he watched me struggle a bit on this route.  While Glen didn’t join us today I thought he would appreciate this image of the first placement of my newly purchased small cams:

When Rongy first jumped in to say he was keen he had two places in mind, Smiths Beach or Willies.  The first purely because we don’t go there very often, as it is pretty damn scary, and the second as he (and I) both had unfinished business here from our last trip.  So it seemed only natural after Craig had jumped the grade up to 20 with Fat Chance, that Rongy take on Stormbringer at 22.  He knew what to expect and needed to get the bottom section clean but also in an efficient way to conserve his energy for the middle section:

It was not to be, and he took a couple of falls on the lower section and eventually worked out a new approach to make the long reach up to the side pull.  It looked powerful but he was happy with it, and so he pondered going back down to get the whole route clean.  So he started from the deck and again struggled to get this move in one hit.  This time he didn’t go back down and made his way to the ledge beneath the next steep wall.  While there is a ledge it provides very little comfort or rest, as the wall above leans out to push you back:

Worse still the holds are rounded and marginal, that is the case from the very first holds until some way past the third bolt.  So it is a good six meters of very steep, sustained climbing on insecure holds for both your hands and feet!  He was way too pumped from the bottom section and ended up taking some good falls giving it everything he had.  Finally he got to the last third of the climb, here it turns to trad and easies off.  You just don’t realise it, as by the time you get there your arms are screaming with pain:

I was next up and tried the bottom Rongy’s way coming off spectacularly and with rope stretch brushing the ground as I swung down.  So I tried to recall what I did last time, which seemed so easy.  Second attempt and I worked out what I had done, much easier and more secure.  I don’t mind admitting that I struggled on the middle wall, I had to rest up and on the second attempt just went for it, slipping off the last few holds.  I was climbing in a style that would not have got up there on lead!  Craig however seemed to float his way up this route without a fault… um:

Now there was no way we could keep inching up the grade, forearms were starting to feel it.  I instead continued on Rongy’s unfinished business approach so went for Mid-Wall Crisis, knocking a couple of grades off to come down to 20.  Craig hung off the rap and so I took a bit more time to rest up until he was in position.  This line seemed not to offer too many difficulties, or so it seemed both from below and Rongy and my memory.  My failing last time was to climb it after five pretty full on routes and to have missed a crucial hold that I now know off:

Sure enough while there were some long reaches and moves of trust, but things flowed.  Then came the traverse and I found myself hanging on small hand and foot holds, some very delicate moves were required, and while there was a thank god hold in sight, it was several moves away still.  I’m not sure how I held on but I did and managed a clean ascent, and was very pleased.  Even more so when Craig and then Rongy who also both managed to climb it clean rated the route but also reckoned it was worthy of the grade:

Craig was probably tiring but we convinced him to keep the charge going, even if the pace was slipping a little.  With talked about routes, and avoiding the obvious Glory, came up with two options Fishing With Dynamite at 19 or Blubber Boy at 18.  Two very contrasting routes one a steep wall and one a slab, one fully bolted the other all trad.  He went for the latter, which I found interesting.  My thinking being the insecure nature and small gear, while being a grade less, made Blubber Boy mess with your head way more on lead… and so it did:

The middle section is a slick slab with micro wires for gear and even they are hard to place and a little more spaced than you would like.  This really played on Craig’s mind but he eventually made his way up and we know the wire placements, while small, were good as he rested on a couple.  While we were keen on routes we hadn’t done too often, Rongy and I had climbed this last time, but his thinking was that this would only be his second time on the route and secretly he is probably building up his confidence to take the floppy end on this line next time:

Craig kept his cool and finally got the reward of the upper section, bigger holds more gear and a light at the end of the tunnel.  It was a top effort after the first four routes which all provided a more than adequate strength sapping experience.  Rongy lapped up the line, inspecting the gear as he went and probably storing important beta in his memory for when he leads this one.  I then followed up and we pulled the rap line to move on for one last climb.  An even six lines with two leads each seemed a nice way to finish the morning:

So after all Craig’s dreams of being able to climb Glory as one of his leads, Rongy plumped for that very line.  This was in part due to the morning wearing on, this way we could dump a heap of gear at the top of the line to save hauling it up, and we could climb with our packs to avoid the walk back up the steps.  All very worthy points and so it was he set off with just my tri-cams and slings.  The route was in full sun and it was biting, we wondered if Lou and Glen had made it out and what time.  They don’t seem to mind climbing in the heat and sun but it’s not for me:

I came second cleaning the gear and checking for our friendly carpet python.  No joy he was not around, and as Rongy said it would have been too hot for him in the sun by this time of the day.  As I made my way to the last wall below the top the evidence of the rock being pushed off kept coming.  The holds were all sandy and dirty, but we pulled off the last few moves and once all atop packed up walking out by midday.  All feeling very good about the morning we felt like we deserved a treat so stopped in at Carbunup for an ice-cream on the way home:

A garden salad

Not put off by my last venture off Peppy I went back in yesterday.  While the ocean looked deceptively calm, there was still a underlying swell, resulting in the water being swished back and forth.  All that turbulence brings with it a stirring of the pot and as such any loose weed, and of course the fine sediments, get mobilised in the water.  That said it wasn’t too bad visibility wise so I persisted.  I scanned the pocketed limestone reef, which provide a haven for the Purple Urchin.  This is the most common urchin in the area, yet strangely they are not all purple:

There are a few favourite spots for me to go, as I know where fish like to hide away in caves in the reef.  At one I found a Shaw’s Cowfish, after a couple of duck dives this one didn’t swim off to the safety of the nooks and crannies.  It did however turn it’s body to look you in the eye, with just one of its eyes.  This results in it being hard to get a nice side on image, but eventually it obliged resulting in me being able to leave it alone.  At this location there is another fish I see regularly that darts for cover, one day I hope to get an image of that one so I can identify it:

On this dive I finally sussed out a trick to keeping my googles from misting up that works (for me).  I’ve tried many approaches, and have finally realised that toothpaste is the go… as long as you don’t wipe it on or off with your fingers.  The grease on your fingers for some reason results in the mask misting up.  So with clear goggles the slightly disturbed conditions didn’t put me off as much as usual.  Eventually however it was time to head back in, as I was cooling down, and it was in the wide open sandy area that I came across this Western Smooth Boxfish:

I make an effort to spend some time in the wide sandy patches between the reef and beach, you never know what you’ll come across and have seen some amazing sights.  Today other than the boxfish there was not much to see.  However, as I swam along the shoreline I noticed how the wavy pattern in the sand, which usually runs or near parallel to the shore, changed.  There was a distinct patch some 20-30m wide where the wavy pattern was much larger and more pronounced.  There was any obvious reason for this that I could figure out:

Today instead of a morning snorkel I spent half the day in the garden clearing the passion fruit off the shed.  Sounds like a small job, but it was not and it took us the whole morning.  I’m glad it was an early start as we avoided the heat of the day, and by midday I was ready to jump in the water regardless of what it was like out there.  The ocean looked a little wavy but that was fine I just needed to cool off.  Once out over the reef I was very pleasantly surprised to find clear waters and great visibility:

When the visibility is like this I’m more comfortable going out further and checking new places.  I scoured the reef and found stacks of sea stars but my favourite one has to be the Biscuit Sea Star, shown above.  As well as reef the coast has healthy patches of sea grass and I scoured that too.  Sea grass is an important barometer of the condition of the bay, supporting a vast array of sea life such as this Shore Crab.  While the clarity of this image is not great, belying my claim of clear conditions, it is a rare sight for me to see crabs feasting like this so I had to include it:

As I checked out the unfamiliar territory, with a mask that wasn’t misting up and clear waters, I spied what is commonly referred to as a Sea Cucumber.  They are in fact Sand Gobblers, for the very obvious reason.  A bit like a worm, as they crawl around on the sea floor, they take in the soil that lies in front of them digesting the rich organic film that coats the sand.  I often see the characteristic trail of deposited sand in the smaller sandy patches in-between reefs and weed, but rarely do I see these fells out in the open as they feast:

As I bobbed about in the increasingly rough surface, the waters remained clear below and I spied another Sea Cucumber tucking against an open crevice.  I’m going to take a stab in the dark, well a guess informed by Google, and say that these were Herrmann’s Sea Cucumber’s.  I had an incline that some species are a delicacy in various countries, and assuming I have identified it correctly this species is also referred to as curryfish.  Being harvested commercially in some areas such as Indonesia and used for soups:

Google also tells me that this species was originally not harvested because the flesh would easily disintegrate, but modern processing methods have overcome that making them a high value product.  The field guide, which I check out these finds in, suggests further that the leathery skin is transformed into a gelatinous concoction during cooking.  Sounds delightful!   I kept finding more and more Sea Cucumbers, but am pleased to say that I took only photos leaving them in place.  So if we do offer you as summer salad it won’t contain these cucumbers:

Belated happy birthday Steve!

Saturday morning just gone I woke up before the alarm, mind you it was only set for 4:45 and I’m usually stirring by then.  It could have been earlier but for the first time that Rongy could remember I chose a later start.  My excuse being that it had been a big couple of weeks at work, that combined with the soaring temperatures and blossoming peppermint trees I felt like I had been knocked about a bit.  As 6am arrived I was waiting at Welly Dam for Rongy and wondering how much noise to make seeing there was someone camping at the base of the crag:

It was due to hit 39 degrees where we had chosen to climb, but this trip had been organised months back so there was no cancelling.  As you’ll know Steve’s sister and brother in law are over, so Jules and I had organised a surprise gathering of climbing friends to celebrate Steve’s 50th, which was a few months back now.  Rongy and I started our morning ahead of anyone else and we had soon bagged a couple of fine routes to get the arms moving.  Dennis rolled into the carpark as we started route number 4, and by which time the happy camper had left:

By the time Dennis had finished his breakfast and got himself sorted to have a crack at the climb, Howsie and his family arrived who were shortly followed by Mario and his family.  It was a time for some people who had never met to get together, as well as getting the crews from the various base camps in the south west together.  A gathering that was long overdue.  Denis hadn’t been climbing for about a year, but still managed to get up the route with only one fall at the puzzling crux right near the top, just when your arms are starting to tire:

We had organised for people to bring ropes and quick draws, as there were a number of people who don’t get out much.  So we had already considered that ropes would be left on lines to allow the less confident to play about without needing to lead anything.  Fergus was ready with his homemade sling harness to have a bash, after Dennis.  But Frank decided that he really didn’t need to be roped up to have a go.  He managed to get both feet of the ground but quick as lightening was back down.  Allowing his brother to head up with the rope:

I then jumped on a route that we don’t do often enough, as it feels a little intimidating.  Mario had in mind to lead this one.  He has been coming up here top roping heaps of routes to get his climbing fitness back, and this was one of the routes that he had been working.  But I jumped on ahead of him and surprised myself by getting a clean ascent, I had a little wobble at the crux but managed to keep my balance and held fast.  Then Rongy, Dennis and Mario all had a bash before we cleaned this line ready to move onto the next challenge:

Rongy took on the challenging Chasing Mason, another route we don’t often play on.  After he came down more and more people turned up including the normally nocturnal Peppy/Busso boulder crew of Lou (who dragged Jake along), Glen, Geoff, Nana, Gav and Moni; as well as some who are seen more regularly in the day time like Craig and his family; and of course not forgetting Lisa.  There were a few people who didn’t make it, which sadly included Steve, Jules and Mick.  I had an inkling they might not the night before but it was confirmed that morning:

Unfortunately Steve had ended up going into the emergency department.  He timed things badly on the first attempt being a Friday night as he ended up not getting seen, having to then go back in on the Saturday morning.  Even then it took hours to get seen and did not get out until the afternoon, long after we had left the hot box of the Welly Dam quarry with the temperatures heading above the mid-thirties.  It was however too late to cancel the event and so we continued to climb and have fun, and I know Steve would not have it any other way:

As the morning wore on others got their leading head in gear with Dennis managing some fine routes, including an impressive lead of A Walk in Central Park as the last climb of the day when it was getting really hot and sticky.  He held his focus despite some disco legs going on, while he was some way above the gear.  Gav also jumped on the sharp end for the first time in years, and whether to be away from the crowds or maybe he’s just a sun worshipper, he hit Block and Tackle in the full baking hot sun, the mad fool:

The ropes were going up everywhere but there was also lots of chit chat happening.  It was not just a band of merry climbers; as there were picnic blankets out, kids running amuck and Craig’s mob had even brought Murphy and a lamb.  Henry was a star when he got half way up Murky Corner.  He finally had enough just a bit higher than where he is now, where he turned around and found a rock armchair from which to watch everyone so far below him.  Mario and Rongy were slipping off their respective routes, tiredness, unfamiliarity and stickiness all playing a part:

While the climbers climbed, the kids played and non-climbers enjoyed good company and the shade of the trees, there was also a bit of slack lining going on.  I definitely saw Denis, Glen and Howsie give it a crack, and while I know I’d be hopeless at it myself it looked like they too could use a bit more practise.  That said Howsie’s 180 degree turn was getting pretty slick, that is at least when the kids weren’t shaking the slack line to make him fall off.  The BBQs were never fired up, it was all too hot, but there was food floating about to keep the energy levels up:

Then slowly on, just as they arrived, they left.  Rongy was off for a dive, Lou and Jake were going mountain biking (and I hear that Lou had a hissy fit, so I’m guessing she didn’t like the tracks), Howsie and Craig’s families went in search of some cool river pools for both the little and big kids, Lisa and I headed home to get to the beach, and others went to sample cool liquid of another form.  So while you couldn’t make it Steve we all thought of you and are wishing you the very best, and we’ll have to have a another Welly Dam session for your 51st:

The eye of a storm

On Saturday, after a hot morning climbing at Welly Dam with wonderful tree top views across a valley it was time to cool off.  So we decided to head to the beach.  It had been a mid-thirty to forty degree week and the sea had been flat as a pancake, so I was hoping to get in for a snorkel for the first time this summer.  Lisa was also liking the idea of calm sea and as such took her paddleboard down, but she forgot the paddle so while I took the board down she went back home.  By the time she got down Els and her friends had taken the board out for a bit of a play:

I dived into the water, bracing myself for the initial coldness but as they say once you are in its lovely… and it was.  I swam out towards the reef and while the visibility wasn’t bad it wasn’t that crystal clear water I’d been hoping for.  Still I stayed out checking the usual spots and seeing some familiar friends, such as the banded sweeps, goat fish, leather jackets, sea urchins and of course sea stars.  Nothing unusual and due to the poor visibility I didn’t take any images.  After a while my calves started to cramp up and so as I made my way back to find Lisa on her board:

It hadn’t taken her long to get her board back from the girls.  She had been doing a bit of stand up paddle boarding up and down the beach.  But when I was coming back in she was just loafing about and said there were some small fish round her.  I had seen the fingerlings, as I first came in, so wasn’t too excited by her find.  However I thought I better look interested so popped my head underwater to see what I might see.  That was when to my amazement I found myself completely surrounded by herring, a fair bit bigger than the little fish Lisa had pointed out:

There would easily have been a thousand of them.  I felt like I was in the eye of a hurricane as they circled round me, only they were also going underneath me.  I didn’t want to scare them off so just sat there allowing them to circle round, getting so close that I felt like I could reach out and catch them.  After watching and taking a few snaps and videos, I braved a duck dive.  While they parted they were not spooked and continued to circle me and then swim overhead.  From below, as the light streamed in from above, my experience was given a different contrast:

It is hard to tell how long they were round me, but it felt like a very long time.  Eventually they decided to move on and I watched as they casually made their way along the beach slowly disappearing in the increasingly murky waters.  While my first snorkel over the reef was not anything to shout about, yet again Peppy Beach gave me a new sight and one that made the dip very worthwhile.  However, by now my calves were screaming.  Um had I done too much climbing that morning… I was certainly paying the price now so it was really time to head in:

Back on the beach the girls had commandeered the paddle board and were splashing about, while Lisa plugged herself into a podcast.  I’d had my fun on the beach, well in the water, and not being one to lounge about in the sun headed back home.  Sunday the weather was due to still be hot, but it was going to cool down just a touch.  I was hopeful to get out for another snorkel while the waters were relatively calm, but rumour had it that the south westerly winds would be picking up and with that so would the swell:

Next morning I had to be out of the house to take Els to dance rehearsals by 9am so it was get a quick early snorkel in or not bother.  It was overcast, which is not a good sign.  Still I went down and yep the winds had picked up bringing with it the swell, nothing huge but for Peppy enough to churn things up.  Being hopefully I decided to jumped in regardless, but the visibility had dropped considerably.  Hopefully better conditions return and stay for longer so I can see more than just some Gloiosaccion, literally translated to glue bags but commonly called slimy bags:

Depeche Mode

The bushfire warnings were all out with a hot weekend in the south west of Western Australia forecast.  With our coastal climbing spots threatening to get up to the mid-thirties it was time to be sensible and have a proper early start to get out and back before the heat really hit.  With that in mind I was heading out to the usual meeting place, in Capel, just after 4am and it was already chasing 18 degrees.  Our destination was a bit more of a trek today, so we needed to allow two hours to get to the crag, making the early start even more sensible:

Steve was keen to take his sister on a real adventure.  So we had decided on Bob’s Hollow, as it has a proper 4WD access track that is just the sort of thing that he had bought his car for.  With a week since his chemo pump was taken out, Steve’s energy level were up and he was all revved up for this one.  As we made the rocky journey, in the last few kilometres, I took got out of the car to take some footage of the worse sections.  This ploy allowed me to walk these sections rather than be shaken about as the car tackled the tire ripping limestone rocks:

The journey, while being the longest for our local crags, is worth the effort as the place really is spectacular.  Steve opted to “sort some stuff out” back at the car before joining us, so Rongy, Jules and I set off on the short walk track to the main cliffs.  As we walked past the increasingly taller and steeper limestone walls it became evident that we would not have the place to ourselves.  One, two three, four, five… no six routes had draws hanging from them, we had either found the largest crag booty ever or another group would be returning:

All of the equipped routes were at the far left of the crag, and we had already decided that we would be climbing at the right hand end.  The reason being that the grades were more forgiving and the routes less steep.  Rongy and I were convinced that Jules should lead the obvious warm-up.  As she stared at the steep towering walls it was evident that we had more confidence in her ability than she did.  So instead we warmed up on some of the other lines with Rongy taking the sharp end first on Stalagasaurus, which despite the runout finish never fazed him:

Jules was next up and took her time to figure out the rock and get her head into gear.  In part I think she was wondering what Steve was up to, so I had wandered back to check and found him still pottering round in his car saying he would be with us in a few minutes.  From what I can gather he has been overdoing things a tad of late, very unlike him… not.  So we needed to keep an eye on how we was tracking today.  When I go back Jules was struggling to get into this cave, but once she had a rest in there she made the final push up the steep finale without a hitch:

Steve was still not in sight so Jules wandered off to check on him, leaving Rongy and me wondering what to climb next.  We investigated a route that he had talked about, as we were walking in, and one I had no idea about.  Of course the route existed making me wander if I had missed it in the guide, but I’m glad to say that I hadn’t (nor the route that goes straight up on trad gear) and as such for my first lead I jumped on a climb I had not been on before.  Escalade De Rasior was a great line and I’m a bit gob smacked that I hadn’t noticed it before:

As I was belaying Rongy up the route the Sterling clan was finally wandering back.  It was obvious that while Steve’s energy levels were up he was still a little addled, a sure sign that he had indeed being over doing things just recently.  In his defence there is a lot of research out there to show that being physically active helps during chemo, both assisting with improving your ability to cope with it and speeding up your recovery time.  It’s just a question of getting the balance right, something he has not quite mastered yet:

Steve was OK for belaying so we encouraged Jules to jump on the route we had just finished.  We both felt it was a good climb for her, being less steep and more technical climbing.  Rongy meanwhile picked off the obvious route for the day, going in search of snakes.  I was pleased to see he was starting to feel it, as he rested on the bigger holds to shake out to get rid of the pump that the lower section of this route is sure to provide most climbers.  The route didn’t disappoint on the snake front with a baby Carpet Python in a pocket near the belay anchors:

It’s always a bit intimidating climbing with Rongy as he has such good stamina.  Shaved Cats has some great sequences low down and I too was looking forward to the bigger holds to shake out.  I had already been feeling that forearm burn on the first two routes, so had wondered if I’d manage a clean ascent.  With a bit of focus and some good footwork things slipped into place and I was soon staring at a small python head sticking out of a pocket.  It was quick to pull itself back into the safety of the pocket, so I cleaned the anchors while Jules did the same:

Once we were all back on the deck there was no getting out of it and it was time for Jules to jump on the obvious warmup climb of Lovers Nuts.  The most protected route here, which makes it a great one to try as a first lead not having such a spook factor.  I think it is fair to say that she loved it, there were certainly a couple of moments in which she had to work on the moves and her head.  Rongy however is an unforgiving belayer and wouldn’t let her rest on the rope unless she fell.  Said enjoyed it as she had a very big grin on her face at the top:

Steve was finally starting to feel right enough to climb so he set off up Lovers Nuts while I decided on Juggernaut.  With two ropes on the go there were not as many images being taken and I didn’t get Steve on rock, but I heard he did OK and only had one rest.  I did however have to take the following image, as it is the only time the No.11 hex (which you may recall from last week’s climbing) got used.  Not that it was really needed with all the rope slings on this line.  I do like this climb as it is long and exposed, but in truth I had another reason to jump on it:

My main reason for choosing this line was to avoid the gnarly finish of the other possible line of Unknown, as my arms were getting tired.  But also I wanted a second chance to see our scaly friend.  Sure enough as I was traversing to the same belay anchors of Shaved Cats, which this line shares, he came into view and was on the move.  In fact he was moving in a direction right across the path I had to take to get to the anchors, perfect!  I slowed down and took my time making Rongy wonder if I was stuck, but he soon figured out what I was up to:

I spent a long time hanging about watching the snake weave about in the small bush, trying not to be to invasive and scare him.  Eventually I left him alone and pulled up to the anchors and came back down.  Steve had also finished his line by then, so we swapped over.  Rongy not having climbed Juggernaut before pulled the rope and led it, while I led and then decided I should down climb Lovers Nuts.  We knew that we were coming to the end of the climbing, so I wanted to make the most of the opportunity to work myself:

Once we were both back down we left Jules to climb Juggernaut with Steve belaying, he was being sensible and decided that one route was enough for him today.  So as Jules seconded up and cleaned the line, Rongy and I went to the left end of the crag and joined the throngs.  There were lots of people, ropes everywhere and I counted some seven or eight routes being worked at the same time.  So with the gear preplaced, Rongy started up Dependence Day.  The last time I did this line was with Kym I found it desperate, so I was a bit nervous:

Having watched Rongy take a couple of falls, one very spectacularly, my misgivings only grew stronger.  No pressure though as it was not our gear so I could come down at any time… until the owner asked if we could clean the route for him, as they were done on that line.  So I set off and with the rope above me didn’t need to expend as much energy as Rongy did.  I surprised myself and made it all the way to the last move before being spat off, completely and utterly gassed.  It does however give me confidence to have another bash sometime, maybe on lead:

As the image above shows the flies were out (in force), it was also hotting up and time for us to make a move.  Good timing as when I came down Steve and Jules had just walked over.  We sorted the gear, had a bit of a gas bag with some of the other people there and then left them to it.  Looking back at the crag, as we walked out, we reckoned they maybe had half an hour of shade left before the place became an oven.  It was a hot walk out and on the drive out I stayed in the air conditioned car, which Rongy drove this time to allow Steve a well-deserved rest:

Just in case anyone was counting we mostly managed to get an even number of routes in, although Steve was the odd one out (for which he is forgiven).  So on the way back it felt like we deserved a bit of self-indulgence, and we stopped in the Carbunup roadhouse and got ice cream and chips!  I questioned the combination but it worked well and went down a treat, even though we had to have our dessert before the main meal.  Now Rongy was a bit surprised we managed to get six lines in with the time we had available, and you may wonder why:

Having left home at 4am and noting we left the crag at 11’ish we should have had ample time to get six lines in.  Well… unfortunately while Steve’s energy levels, post his chemo, are undoubtedly not going bad the chemicals seemed to still be impacting his brain, and he had changed the plans with all but me… and I was left hanging in Capel for an hour before they rocked up.  So as I listen to Depeche Mode as I type this, it is A Question of Time.

Camera shy

Steve’s sister Jules and her husband Michael have come over from ole Blighty to look after him for a bit on his road to recovery.  So seeing Jules has dabbled in bit of climbing herself Howsie and took the them out to Moses Rocks yesterday.  As suspected Steve tried to smuggle in an extra rope and a bunch of his gear, which was completely unnecessary as Howsie and I already had two racks and ropes.  So the first task of the day was unpacking Steve’s bag to ensure he didn’t smuggle in any unnecessary weight:

Michael is not really into climbing like Jules, so when she got up at 4am he politely accepted the offer to join us and then rolled over and went back to sleep.  Howsie and I were not really aware of all this until too late so we had packed as if there would be two parties climbing, but with only the four of us we really didn’t need to Sherpa in as much gear as we did.  Importantly Steve and the jet lagged Jules were able to travel light and dawdle behind us at their own relaxed pace as we made our way along the well beaten track:

We had intended to climb on Saturday so Glen could join us, but the forecast of fresh westerlies and a 5m swell suggested that the rock would be somewhat greasy.  Today was forecast for gentle westerlies and a 2-3m swell so Howsie and I were still expecting a degree of greasiness.  However, even on arrival the rock felt good.  Dry, good friction and no salty residue in sight.  With that I thought I’d warm up the proceedings with the worse crack to protect, the rounded and flared crack of Hands Up is even scary to lead with tricams:

Jules followed second, and we had no idea what to expect.  But she jumped on the line and was soon skiting her way up, with a pause at one location until I shouted to chicken wing it.  This threw her as it was a technique that she had not heard of before, but once she sussed it out she was off again and soon she was at the top with me with a big grin on her face.  Howsie only has the one rope, a 60m single which we thought was complete overkill for here but as things turned out it was great when you need to get four people up one route:

He was keen to jump on a few lines that he hadn’t been on before, or at least couldn’t remember climbing before.  So he set off up Many Hands, but instead of using all the crack systems up this line he stuck to the right.  The last time I came we Steve we worked out that the line in the guide is best spilt into two routes, each with their own distinct style and they can be kept completely independent.  As before we all trouped up after him like sheep, and there is good reason why we climbed in this fashion:

Steve is now in his second bout of chemo, with fortnightly treatment that will last for ten sessions.  On Saturday the pump came out after the first round of chemo, and understandably it was making him feel pretty crappy.  So he was not going to be leading and we did um and ah about whether he should climb at all.  But these were lines he had done many times before and not too hard so with a rope above him we allowed him to indulge in the first two climbs.  The smile on his face was gold, and that in itself is a magic medicine to keep spirits up:

While Jules has climbed before she has not been doing much outdoor stuff and certainly not much traditional leading.  So she was keen to start things off slowly and follow us up a few lines.  However, as with most climbers who start their career in Blighty it is impossible not to want to get on the sharp end when there are trad lines to be bagged.  So with that and to get a flavour for the rock and what it offers for gear she tackled Kiddies Corner.  After the successful lead Steve decided to sit this one out, a sign he was tiring:

Now before Michael and Jules had come out, it was pretty clear that we would end up taking them out to some climbing haunts.  So Steve suggested that Jules bring her favourite piece of gear and make sure it gets used.  So we took her No.11 hex when we were leading and tried to use it on every route.  For those familiar with Moses and the type of protection it offers you may laugh and say it was a fool’s game.  However, we did eight climbs that day and we placed it on route for five of them and for the other three it was used for a belay anchor:

I was up next and seeing the rope was already there at the foot of Cornish Nasty I thought why not.  The bottom was fine, cruising past the crux using a knee bar, but then I got to the top wall.  I started yoyo’ing on the rounded holds of the steep finish, and for my last attempt I slowly and steadily crept further and further left escaping the elephant’s arse finale.  It would have been disappointing if it had not been so comical how it played out.  Howsie and then Jules did not however cheat with the sneaky left exit, instead powering over the top of the crag:

We had not intended to hit the more awkward and harder lines, it just seemed to be playing out that way.  So Howsie eyed up Fat Slags another nervous climb because the first third, which is thin and balancy, is protected by a single cam that just never seems to look right.  We do know it holds as we have tested it ourselves, but that doesn’t help when you set off.  Howsie managed to put all that to the back of his mind and steadily made his way up this fine line.  Just by watching Jules thought it was not one for her:

Steve however, who had now sat out on two lines liked the look of this one and promptly said he really should try this one.  I guess after laying down for two routes he was somewhat recuperated and energised. He managed to follow up but did take a few rests on the rope, which thankfully didn’t cause him any issues.  Each time he refocused and set off on the battle again, claiming that the rock felt greasy and that was why he slipped off.  Following up last I can safely say he was talking hogwash, despite the forecast and last few days the rock was perfect:

Jules was up next and she was keen to try the line I had pointed out to her when we first arrived.  Wheely Thing wheely must be climbed, not only is it brilliant but it will gobble up an entire rack if you so choose.  I won’t lie, and as she worked her way higher all three of us fell silent.  It was a little scary as she placed a few pieces less than we were expecting.  I guess that I’ve forgotten how hard and fearless the true trad climbers are, and this time Steve sat out while Howsie and I enjoyed the crag classic:

It was after this line that Howsie spotted a whale, which promptly disappeared. We got back to our bags and Steve had suggested that he really should do a lead so he too could place the No.11 hex.  With much conflict we managed to find a short easy line that looked a safe and possible.  Before we moved all the gear over the whale popped up again, in fact there was more than one and there could have been three.  They provided us a great show of tail splashes, fin raises and some mini breaches, so we stood and watched them for quite a while: 

Then a pod of probably 20 plus dolphins came along and cruised along the waves occasionally surfing in towards the rocks before heading back out.  With dolphins in the foreground and whales in the back drop the three of us stood in tranche, having forgotten that Steve had already wandered off.  I’m pleased to say that when we had eventually grabbed our gear and caught up with him he had a change of heart and decided that leading probably wasn’t the best idea.  We all wished we could have recorded that statement, a rare sensible moment:

So instead Howsie was up again and looking for something new, and I pointed him to Pickup a feisty crack followed by a traverse on small feet and somewhat insecure handholds.  He was looking good as I leaned over to take some snaps.  But it was clear that he was tiring and at one point I could see his fingers slowly but surely uncurl and slowly lose all possibility of holding on.  How he managed to snatch with the other hand and get a better hold above I’ll never know and by the look on his face I don’t think he does either:

It was too much for Jules so she bailed and I scooted up after Howsie before making the obvious statement that while we were all pretty gassed that was only seven in the bag.  Steve was keen to get back and so Jules and he started to walk back.  I then quickly romped up No Balls, a route you won’t find written up anywhere but one Craig and I did in June last year when we did eight lines and all FAs but we never wrote them up.  It didn’t take up long to both get up this short but sweet line before packing up:

We scampered over the rocks, everything was still bone dry and perfect even the boulders along the water’s edge.  Ahead Steve and Jules could be seen as dots on the beach, slowly wandering along in the soft sand.  Despite taking a bit of a scenic route back along the water’s edge Howsie and I were soon feeling out legs as we walked over the dune and back to the carpark.  They had only just got back before us and hadn’t loaded the bags in the car, so we hoofed it all in the boot so we could get Steve out of the sun:

The AC went on and we were soon on the sealed roads, at which point the seat went back and Steve was soon snoring his way home.  I think it is fair to say that Jules loved her first trip out on rock in our patch, and is looking forward to another trip.  Steve too had a marvellous time and all that fresh sea air (with copious amounts of sun screen to avoid getting sunburnt) was just the tonic after the first round of chemo.  Next weekend he’ll have had a week off the chemo and will no doubt be chomping at the bit for the next trip out:

I do have to apologies to Steve, as he had wanted to me to make use of his images of me climbing.  Unfortunately he didn’t get the images to me in time, so I got away with it once more…