After bagging a few too many lines at Welly Dam last weekend my shoulder gave me the tell-tale signs that I had been pushing things a bit too far with recent trips out.  So I put the call out for anyone interested in a more relaxed session this weekend.  Mario was keen and we headed out to Lost Buttress for some lower grade trad fun.  It promised to be a warm day hitting the mid to high twenties, so we had a reasonable start to beat the heat.  We did however decide to walk in from the main crags at Wilyabrup, so rock hoped our way to arrive at just before 7:30:

We walked past the Northern Blocks, Bookshelf and lastly the Playground, the boulders were at times damp and slimy and I took a tumble taking some bark off.  Not the best start to the day but nothing too serious to stop us.  On arrival we decided to start from one end and work our way across picking off one line after another.  The first two lines fell pretty quickly especially when Marion led, as he didn’t place much gear at all.  To speed things up that bit more we had also brought a static and set it up on the ring bolts that Kym had kindly placed here: 

Despite the boulders on the walk in being damp the rock seemed to be in good nick.  The only thing that made us stop to think and take things a bit slower was the top-outs.  Lost Buttress is not a well frequently crag and the tops are littered with sand, friable rocks and vegetation; but while these top-outs can feel sketchy the routes themselves make it worth the effort and risk.  Soon we found ourselves tackling the next two lines, up both sides of the big imposing roof, the centre piece of the crag:

The waves today were crisp and clear, and with my untrained eye they looked big and perfect for surfing.  The occasional wave looked to form great barrels but today was not a day to sit around and watch the waves waiting for that perfect picture.  So I took some quick happy snaps  whenever I heard the ocean roar that little bit louder to signal a big set was in its way in.  The mist was trailing behind the waves, an easterly was kindly pushing the salt spray back out to sea saving our climbing gear from being coated and needing a rinse afterwards:

Mario took the best line of the day, the left side of the big roof has one of the most epic positions for exposure that you will find on any crag in the south west.  Stepping out on smeary footholds right out to the arête before needing to make committing move to get into the corner above, all on great rock with awesome gear.  After this line we skipped the next route, after all we were supposed to be taking it relatively easy today.  So in a way we didn’t hit every route, in fact there were two we missed out being Leap Frog (sorry Lou) and As the Crow Flies:

Sure enough the surfers were out, they were huddled out in the deep blue while the big sets seemed to pass them on either side.  That said I’m no surfer so I’m sure there was a reason for that.  While we were out the rescue helicopter flew over us several times, no doubt keeping an eye out for sharks in close vicinity to any surfers.  However, on at least two occasions it circled round and came back to where we were hovering just out to sea while we climbed.  No doubt they probably thought we were mad, but personally I think that of people who go surfing:

We kept trucking, and soon I was ambling up the second best route of the day, very direct and nicely sustained.  This route happened to be a Rob Crowder creation, he and Kym had invited me to get involved in establishing this place in 2013.  While Marion and I were chatting mentioned he had climbed with Rob a lot down at Bob’s Hollow.  Rob disappeared from the local crew and seemed to live at that crag for quite a few years meeting up with the Perth crew.  But it seems he has also disappeared from that crew, and we wondered where he is now:

Today was Mario’s first time at placing tri-cams, he had seen them before and taken them out on second but never placed them.  He fiddled about with them quite a few times, but just didn’t quite have the confidence with the placements he found. Often after mucking about for a while he simple shoved a cam in, but on the odd occasion he did trust them.  Another piece of gear that he was keen on trying to place on every route was the No.4 cam, so the biggest piece of hardware seemed to follow up every line only being used a couple of times:

This is one of the times it was used and thankfully so.  This is the piece that held after Mario managed to pull a (large) toaster sized block off, and promptly came off himself from a meter or more above this piece of gear.  In fact from here he is in the above image.  He bounced down, with the block hurtling to ground and crashing to my left where it spilt in two.  It was his biggest fall on trad and while he was a little shaken up, after a rest and some water he was back up there to finish the route off:

We kept moving leftward, and I got the most ordinary route after which we were both kinda wondering why.  But it was in the guide, so we ticked it off.  Then it was onto two more routes for which most of the climbing was a breeze, until you had to get up the top headwall.  While the lower sections were a ramble the upper wall was very worthwhile.  Mario’s had some great face climbing and mine required thugging up to get established in the crack on the arête with no feet.  I had no one to blame as I put the route up, and eventually I solved the puzzle again:

We hit the last route of the day at the left end of the crag just in time as the sun was starting to peel over the top of the crag.  This route was the scene of my worse climbing fall, when a large hand hold came off and spun me off the rock while I was soloing.  This time however Mario was using a rope and gear, which included a tri-cam that he was prepared to trust.  I think we may be able to convert him to the tri-cam way of thinking yet.  With ten fine routes in the bag we were happy to call it a day:

We packed our gear and pondered whether to carry the offending hand hold out as a memento, I had done that with the one that knocked me off but Marion decided a photo was enough for him.  I’m pleased to say that the boulders were dry as we rock hopped back, so there were no more mishaps.  As we passed the Northern Blocks we spied a climber yo-yoing up and down below the final runout headwall of Corpus Delecti in full sun.  We both agreed rather him than us, even more so when back at the car the thermometer indicated it was 26 degrees:

If you are keen to check out the lines we climbed check out the mini-guide: Lost Buttress.  The question I have is whether Marion will treat me to a spectacular fall every time we head out.  So far it’s been two out of two with a big whipper last weekend from the top of Welcome to Edges and today’s was even more impressive, I just hope they don’t get more spectacular each time…

I canned a Saturday trip to Wilyabrup on what promised to be a perfect spring day just minutes after organising it, due to my daughter asking if we could head to Perth to go to the aquarium.  A place where we used to go on a regular basis when she was younger and haven’t been to for many, many years.  While I may seemingly live and breathe climbing, when you get a rare opportunity like that to spend time with your teenage kids, then climbing takes the back seat.  So instead it was on Sunday that I left home, as the sun was rising:

It was a glorious morning with just a bit of mist making the morning sun glow that golden colour for longer than usual.  I couldn’t help but stop at the bridge out of Peppy Beach (above) and then again the bridge over the Capel River (below) to take in the view.  As I drove onto the second bridge two pelicans had left the flock and flew just feet above the car, geez they are big birds!  The winds had turned today and the sea cliffs were not likely to be the best option, so I was heading to Bunbury to Pick Steve up before then heading out to Welly Dam:

By the time I’d picked Steve up from his new digs and drove to the National Park it was a clear sky with only a hint of clouds about.  The forecast was for a good morning, rain threatening after midday.  Welly Dam offers great access and with fully equipped routes you can knock a heap off pretty quickly, if you have the stamina.  So with no need to rush, we took our time and even stopped to move this unfortunate Echidna, which had fallen foul to some inattentive driver, off the road.  I’m not sure how they couldn’t have seen the poor creature:

We arrived at the same time as Mario.  I met him sometime last year and have kept in touch, but never climbed together.  He’s been away for a while and not climbed much so was keen to get back into shape.  In fact he is so keen that this was his fourth consecutive day to climb at Welly Dam.  The previous three have all been top-rope soloing missions.  So I wasn’t quite sure how we would go, while his previous visits had been only for a couple of hours this place isn’t easy and four days on the trot was going to be a tough challenge:

Steve settled into one of our beach chairs.  Everyone who has used has used these claims they are the most comfortable beach chairs out there.  From this prone vantage point he was able to enjoy the show, have a good banter and rest up as he has been instructed to since his operation.  With that I was on first lead and took on the delightful Barbie Q, a fingery climb and maybe a tad feisty for a warm up climb.  Mario then wanted to get take things easy and get his leading head back into shape, so jumped on This Murky Corner:

We moved Steve’s chair about the wall as we picked lines in the middle, then right, out left and back in the middle again.  While he loved the chair he was also conscious that he does need to move about a bit and so he also walked up to the toilets when needed.  Being in parent mode I made him message me at crucial times such as arrival and departure to make sure he was going ok.  On his return he found us on Shock Therapy, so settled on the old light foundation which provided an idea prone position, so as not to crane his neck:

Next up was Welcome to Edges, Marion was going great but his arms were starting to tire.  Shock Therapy had been a little damp making us pull on the holds a bit harder, other than that the rock was in great condition and this was boosted by the fact that there was minimal humidity in the air.  He was looking strong, from below, and was soon at the top only needing to clip into the last anchors.  It seemed like he had it in the bag but then he dropped the rope, he tried clipping again before shouting I’m done and coming off and took a good fall:

After shaking out he finished the route off and then we decided it was time to put Steve to work.  He soon had the kettle went on and while we were waiting for it to boil I jumped on a route that Steve had said he would like to watch us climb when we first arrived.  How could I say no to the crag classic and so we climbed Ear of Fear and finished just in time for when the teas were made and ready to sip.  Mario was feeling it now and so we stopped for a natty before carrying on, he admitted he would struggle leading but was happy to second: 

So with that we moved Steve and the chair to the next location and ticked Savage Sausage Sniffer.  I was feeling in good shape and Mario was enjoying building his stamina up, so with that and seeing it was close to Steve we then ticked Victim of Authority.  A route that would normally give me the hee-bee-gee-bees on lead, as it has some pretty exposed run out sections that could result in a nasty fall.  But today I was climbing well, and it all fell into place.  We decided that Mario needed to get on the floppy end again and so it was over to the carpark slabs:

He climbed Old School and seeing we were there I climbed B Young.  Topping out I thought we were done for the day, some great routes and we had finished on an even number.  But I got it wrong, as Marion rightly pointed out, so after making doubly sure of the tally it was time for one more route.  And, independently of each other, both Mario and Steve suggested Ebonie Road was the one to finish on.  One for me to lead as Mario was getting really tired now, although you would never have guessed it with how he cruised up that last line:

I don’t think it will be long before Mario is back up to full strength and he will be dragging me up the harder lines.  We then packed up and headed out, Steve and I drove out the scenic way, both because it is nicer but also because Frank was having his birthday party down at Big Rock.  We popped in to see Frank and the gown ups, included Ram and Howsie.  After a good catch up and declining the offer of birthday cake we kept moving.  Steve was starting to flag so I dropped him straight home, leaving the beach chair with him as he kinda grew attached to it:

Today was the first trip out that felt like a big group, there seems to be a growing keenness to get onto rock by the local south west group.  It was supposed to be a cold start after a clear sky night, followed by blue skies and light winds.  So Rongy and I were a tad surprised when as we approached Busselton and could see rainbows.  And as we travelled on the rain came down.  We decided to trust that things would be OK and kept going.  We also didn’t let on to Wiggins, Steve, Glen, Alan or Mark, who were planning to join us a little later, of what it was like:

It reduced to a drizzle as we walked in to the cliffs of Wilyabrup.  This is the best place to go when there is a bit of a pose, as it has a great variety of route styles and grades so there is something for everyone.  Not surprisingly we arrived to an empty carpark and had the place to ourselves.  By the time we were climbing the drizzle had gone and the sky out to sea was clearing up.  With no wind it was feeling warm and so we started in T-shirts, on a couple of relaxed warmup routes.  Evidence of the downpour was lying about on the ledges and top of the crag:

Hope and then Glory were the obvious climbs to start on.  Rongy was a late joiner to the days group and also provided me with an opportunity to get out a bit earlier, something he is not afraid of.  When we made plans for the earlier start I mentioned that my bag was already packed, with a rope and only passive gear.  This was due to me expecting a cruisy day, based on the others due to arrive, and so adding a bit of spice by not using any active gear.  Rongy took this as a sign that regardless of grade passive gear was the go, so that is how we started:

The wind was picking up making us wrap backup, and while it was cold this was a good thing.  The compact gneiss of Wilyabrup, a hybrid of granite and sedimentary rock, isn’t very porous and as such regardless of how much it rains once it has stopped and the wind blows it is quick to dry.  So as the rest of the crew turned up they found me at the top of one of the projects that Steve had in mind.  I was happy to report to Steve that the rock was in great condition, should he want to have a bash at the line of Inner Space today:

The capping roof under Hope Buttress became base camp, and it has been a long time since I have seen it so packed with gear, sacs and ropes.  So much so that it seemed like there was enough gear to tackle something much, much bigger than the cliffs at Wilyabrup.  While the boys jumped onto the two routes that we had started on Rongy was up again.  He had already decided on a route that he does not get on very often.  This meant that we moved away from the pack, which felt a little antisocial of us but we soon got over it:

Rockfish Dreaming is a feisty number, the top headwall is full of small holds and being as steep as it is it can quickly pump your forearms and make you feel very exposed.  Rongy paced himself well and climbed upwards towards the now blue sky in search of the sun.  He managed to bag himself a top belay spot in the sun, and watched a pod of dolphins cruise past as I came up second.  I had to dig a bit deeper than normal bearing down on the small holds a bit too much, as my forearms started popping out like Popeye’s:

We then re-joined the group, Wiggins had run up Hope with Mark and then Glen in tow.  Steve meanwhile had enjoyed the delights of Glory, with Alan and his noodle arms quivering up on second (self-confessed).  With them still busy on those two lines I plumped, after a suggestion by Rongy, for what I reckon is the best mid-grade trade line at Wilyabrup.  Golden Buttress provides a varied range of rock features, great exposure and just about enough gear.  I then made Rongy hang about on the last good hold waiting for the sun to cast a good enough shadow:

Wiggins was keen to follow up on second, so I sat in the sun for a bit longer looking out.  Unlike Rongy I wasn’t lucky enough to see any dolphins, but with the view of the rugged coastline and a blue sky I wasn’t complaining.  Wiggins was taking his time and purposely so.  He is nursing an injured shoulder, it’s an old injury that seems to plague him.  He was also cleaning the rack as he was climbing, something I like to do (unless I’m getting really gassed).  It makes you hang about a bit longer, forcing you to use good technique and find rests in unlikely positions:

When we got down Glen and Mark had disappeared.  We were told they had gone to the far northern area of the main crags to tackle Stormcock, a route that I have never been on so I’m keen to hear what they think of it.  Meanwhile to even things up Rongy was up for one more line.  He again picked a line that he had not done very often.  This one has a very gnarly move to get established on the hanging arête above the main wall, but that didn’t stop him and soon it was my turn.  The top move had me working harder than it should have, I was tiring:

As we climbed Steve took on and beat Thunder Thighs, it took him a while to figure out his gear in the lower crack but after that he motored on and used nearly all of his large tri-cams on just one route, which may be a first.  Alan was feeling better on his second route, getting used to trusting those stick boots once again.  Meanwhile Wiggins, as all this sending was going on, was taking the opportunity to gather a bit of footage from above with the promise of another video being made.  Back down on the deck Rongy and I were pretty content and called it a day:

We left the others to play, and play they did racking up another couple of great routes of Road Trip and Hitching.  As Rongy and I walked out a few more climbers and mob of eight boulders, the later looking like hermit crabs, were heading in.  It certainly felt like Wilyabrup was getting busy, by SW WA standards!

You may recall that last weekend I was not at my best, but that said Rongy and I still had a great session at the Northern Blocks with me following up every route.  This week I’ve been a bit up and down, Lisa suggested I may be experiencing a dose of manapause or possibly worse the early warning signs of man-flu.  I had popped over to Glen’s for a boulder on Thursday, where we were joined by the elusive Lou.  I managed to boulder a bit but like last weekend it felt like I pumped out way to fast.  So this weekend I needed something low key and fun:

It was an obvious choice, Castle Rock.  The place that offers easy stuff, as well as the absurd which I knew this bandy crew wouldn’t be touching.  I was joined today by Glen coming back from his broken foot, cancerous Steve and learning to climb again Mark.  So I felt fairly sure that things would be steady as she goes and a bit of a laugh.  We didn’t head out till mid-afternoon and while this place can heat up at that time of the day, yesterday there was a stiff wind and the sun dipped in and out of the clouds making for ideal conditions:

Steve was busting to get on the sharp end, he’s set himself a challenge to get to level one UK army fitness level.  This was almost immediately after coming off chemo and radiotherapy some four weeks’ish back.  He was also keen to see just how well he was going as he has a couple of projects at Wilyabrup that he wants to tick before stage 2 of his treatment, when he will go under the knife.  I showed him the new line here and liking the look of it off he went.  He had me nervous as he went through the crux sequence, but he pulled through with much relief:

Meanwhile Glen also started on the floppy end, he had already said that he wanted nothing too hard today.  His foot is still healing and therefore he has been advised not to overdo it.  Indeed when we picked him up, Kathy made the point of saying “don’t break him this time”.  What with his recent years of various injuries I think she is a bit over having Glen as a cripple limping round the house.  So being sensible and just wanting to get his gear in the rock he played on the cracks to our left, which while great fun and worthy lines never made it into the guide:

Seeing Steve had done such a good job on his lead I could sense that me taking on one of those easier lines to the left was not really going to meet his needs.  So I plumped for the crack up the arête.  The bottom wall was fine but as I stood ready at the shelf looking at the undercut block self-doubt was creeping in.  Despite being able to place great gear above, as I started to layback my way upwards I had that strange sensation creeping back into my arms.  I dug deeper than last weekend and polished the job off, although that said the challenges were shorter lived:

For this route for some reason I had always come into this crack from the right looking at the rock, it was as I was doing this that Steve questioned why.  This was the first time I had led it direct, and I have to say it is a far better way to climb it.  As I was climbing it was also Mark’s turn to tackle the cracks.  He was placing great gear and enjoying the feeling of leading on trad.  We both set up anchors ready to belay the other two up.  Steve gobbled the route up, even stopping at this point to pull his sippy mug off his harness to have a sip of coffee:

We then decided to move over to the dark side, here the sun didn’t shine and the rock had a slightly damp feel.  A result of the big downpour on Friday.  Mark and Glen were keen to test their ability on the sharp slab, but not keen to lead it, and Steve had his eye on a route he’s battled with several times.  With slightly damp rock and a silly (even by my standards) high first bolt he decided to rap in to pre-clip the first bolt.  This would not detract from a clean ascent, if he finally managed it, as stick clipping the first bolt is standard sports climbing practise:

Mark had come here during the week with Andrew, and there was mention of how they had tried hard to get this route.  It has small sharp holds for the first half, the sort that will eat away the skin on your fingertips.  Today with prior knowledge he was keen to hit it again.  It’s on from the moment you get both feet off the deck, small finger piercing crimps and equally small footholds.  It’s not a place you really want to hang about on too long, but the next moves require smears for feet and full pressure on those finger tips so you have to muster your courage:

While Mark took layers of skin off I set myself up in a comfy position to allow me to watch Steve, and get a better camera angle.  With the first bolt clipped he made short work of the bouldery start, he even got into the layback sequence with relative ease.  From there he inched his way up the layback.  Working out how to clip the bolt he swapped hands a few times and continued to move up until his feet were above the first bolt.  Then he fell, his distance above the bolt plus rope stretch allowed him to gently reach the ground and roll onto his back all in slow motion:

Both Steve and I were in fits of laughter, as Mark looked on a little stunned and Glen… well he’s used to these antics.  Needless to say I moved closer to the rock for stage two, and I’m pleased to say that Steve clipped the second bolt from lower down reducing the risk of another touchdown.  He then battled hard and long and finally topped out with numerous falls along the way.  As we hooted and hollered on our line Mark’s fingers admitted defeat and went up the left flake, then Glen surprised himself as scooted up the slab with ease:

Steve and I continued to play on our line.  With a rope above us we both had several runs on it.  The luxury of the rope also allowed us to try a few new approaches, checking out what is the best stance from which to clip that second bolt.  We even went so far as to have a bash at down climbing the line, which while fun felt insanely difficult.  Needless to say my arms were feeling ok on this line, more than likely due to having had the rope above me.  However, after the third ascent I started to feel them tire and I knew it was time to move onto new ground:

As Steve and I got ourselves sorted for the last line of the day Glen was already getting down to business up the fun leaning flake on the arête right of the sharp slab.  He wanted to get that gear back in touch with rock, as it has been gathering dust in his garage way too long.  We watched for a while as I got ready to take of the slab, and it was shortly after this that Glen got himself in a bit of a pickle.  He got some gear in above but was standing on the rope so couldn’t pull it through, so had to make a move up before clipping the rope, we all held our breathe:

I’m glad to say he held it together moved up and then almost forgot to clip the next piece he had put in.  Then looked down and said that he had given himself a fright doing that, but it’s alright Kathy we didn’t break him… this time.  I got myself ready and launched up the slab, the holds felt a bit bitey but not too bad as I worked my way up past the first bashed in carrot, past the sling on the ledge and I soon had the second high bashed in carrot clipped.  Just in time to take a few snaps of Glen taking his time to top out so he could fiddle with his nuts a bit longer:

I was happy to have felt really good on my route, there is no more man-flu in me!  Steve followed up, but not before a false start when he knocked off one of the start footholds.  The climb never presented him any great problems, so he declared those projects at Wilyabrup were on and needed to be ticked before October.  As we sat atop Glen admitted that his foot was aching now and it was time to stop, so after Mark followed up admiring Glen’s gear, we all wandered down and started to pack up.  By the time we were walking out it was getting dark:

Castle Rock gave us the tonic we all needed, thrills and spills with a good dose of banter and laughter… plans are already underway for a trip Wilyabrup.

Rongy and I headed out on Sunday for a bit of fun at Wilyabrup.  We decided to get there early, so as we were driving west on Metricup Road five minutes from our destination I could see, in the rear view mirror, the sun starting to inch it’s way above the horizon.  The sky seemed hazy and as a result the sun was a deep red.  It was not until it had broken free from the horizon that it turned into the more familiar brilliant yellow.  We got to the carpark to find four cars and a bus parked up, not taking much notice of them we shouldered our packs and wandered down:

Rongy had hinted on the drive down that we could have diverted and gone to Smiths Beach.  However, for those who have experienced that place you’ll understand that it is not the sort of trip you just decide on.  You need to mentally prepare yourself for the routes there, whereas Wilyabrup is like a familiar old friend.  That said we had talked about how it would be good to jump on those less frequented climbs, and so we started Verbosity which while less climbed is one I’ve done a bunch of times.  The rock was a bit damp, which we put down to the early start:

However, as I belayed Rongy up the first route I was watching the waves, and it was clear that while there was only a light wind it was a landward breeze.  I could see the fine mist that normally trails behind the waves being blown toward the cliffs.  This meant that the greasy feel of the rock that the mist and salt residue leaves was not likely to disappear as the morning wore on.  So as we scrambled back down after the first climb I was left wondering what to tackle next, I had in mind to pick something on the Fat Chance Wall as this is probably the least climbed area:

With that I jumped on Slapping the Fat, a climb I have only once many years back done before.  The bouldery start with limited gear, and in these conditions, felt very sketchy and I climbed up and down a number of times before committing to the crux.  From there I eased into the climb and had a great feeling of satisfaction of having gone for it.  As Rongy followed me up we saw the first of many other climbers, in fact on this trip the place was to be the busiest we had seen it in many years.  We lost count of how many people rocked up both walkers and climbers:

One of those less trodden routes that Rongy had in mind was Woman Accept If For What It Is.  I led this one for the first time only recently so I had a clear memory of how sketchy it could feel, while water was not dripping down the face it was greasy and as such the first half was pretty serious.  It was then that I heard a “hello uncle Krish” and Henry, Charlie, Oyukha and Craig appeared.  I had to focus on Rongy leading, but once he was in a safer position we had a chat and it only then dawned on me that it was their bus in the car park:

Craig was not climbing, but when they had got up and saw my car there Oyukha said that they should bring down a thermos of tea for us.  So it was that Rongy and I had an unexpected but very welcome tea break after a couple of cracking routes.  Then it was time to get back to business and I drifted back to the Fact Chance Wall to a climb I have done a few times, but always get super scared on.  The perfectly named Blubber Boy is a steep and sketchy slab with some small gear.  Despite the conditions I felt more comfortable on it than ever before:

As I belayed Rongy up Mick rocked up with a tour group, and was shocked at the crowds he found.  He asked what we were considering next and Rongy had already made his choice which unbeknown to him was one of Mick’s routes.  So Rongy got to hear about the line from the first ascentist, not that he gave anything away.  Stormbringer is not pushover and has an unspoken reputation, so much in fact that I have never seen anyone climb it.  I have only ever seconded Craig up it many years back and since that experience have shied away from it:

The lower section is steep and brutal.  Once you leave the comfortable looking stance above you may have reasonable handholds the feet are on smears and the longer you ponder over each move the more your strength gets sapped.  On my last attempt I floundered there for ages and Rongy didn’t fare much better this time.  The upper wall then seems to offer loads of options for handholds but they are slopey and less than comfortable at the best of times, so it takes time to find the best ones.  Today they were horrendous making it even harder work:

After making a clean ascent of the energy sapping first section I then seemed to lose all forearm strength and struggled on the upper section.  Eventually making it with my veins popping out.  So for the last climb of the session I made the sensible choice to jump on Mid-Wall Crisis, a route that really was new ground.  I’ve not being on this line nor either of the two routes that it makes use of.  I missed a crucial hold and made one section much harder than it needed to be, which drained me and led to me hanging in my harness to recover before slowly finishing the line:

So on this busy day when there were ropes all over the place, by choosing those less popular lines we managed to avoid the crowds and queues.  Despite being less frequented routes they were all great fun, and despite being in less than perfect condition we climbed them in good style, until the last two.  At least we both have unfinished business to attend on our next trip down, when hopefully the rock will be in better condition.  Which is likely as on the walk out we saw a sure sign on improving weather coming; Pink Fairies and Purple Enamel orchids:

As we walked out at midday a group of eight were walking down to join the throngs.  We never understand why people climb so late on hotter days, but in a way are grateful they do.  Finally we were back at the carpark and it was packed, all the bays were taken up and cars were lined up on both sides of the road.  It certainly seems strange that with all those people climbing today we were still able to find quite spots on the cliffs and stay away from the crowds and off the beaten track on routes that really deserve more attention:

Saturday 24^th August was Global Climbing Day so it was only right to get out for a climb.  However, despite the best endeavours from quite a few of the local crew the numerous plans that were hatched eventually ended with only one option.  I had hoped to manage two trips out, one in the morning to crank on the steep Welly Dam quarry routes followed by a more relaxed afternoon in the sun session on chilled lines at Castle Rock ending with nosh in Dunsborough (which would entice Lisa to come).  As it was the one option ended up being to stay at home:

There was one person who was grateful for this outcome.  Rongy had set off the weeks’ discussion about options for heading out on the weekend, and it all started with he and I agreeing on a trip out on Saturday afternoon.  That was until he realised that he was going to be covering someone’s shift at work.  So when all options for climbing on Saturday were exhausted, Rongy and I decided to head out to Kym’s favourite spot in our SW corner of WA… the Northern Blocks of Wilyabrup.  The obvious warm up climb had to be Banana Split:

Now as the image above and below show the sun was already high in the sky.  Rongy had come off a long week at work and was keen for not such a silly start.  We have had some crisp cold mornings, as we move from winter into spring, which he was also keen to avoid.  So we didn’t start the first route until 9:30 and so started the usual lead for lead, and for my turn I took the floppy end on Corpus Delecti.  I used to come here quite often and have done most of the routes numerous times, but since Kym has left my visits here are not as regular:

Now for the more observant you will have noticed that while I said we were going lead for lead, Rongy is in fact leading the second route.  Going back a few steps, I think I jinxed myself when Wiggins mentioned a solo Saturday morning trip to Welly Dam.  I asked if he wanted a BB, which got a little discussion going on the local WhatsApp group.  It’s term we used in the UK for a non-climbing person who is taken to the crags merely to belay, and hence becomes the belay bunny.  The relevance of all this being when I got to just below the point shown below my arms flaked:

Now when I say flaked, they got super pumped to the point they were painful.  I yoyo’d the section a few times but couldn’t bring myself to run out the last 4/5m above the cam that is well below Rongy’s feet.  I can’t recall the last time that I have been so pumped out on my first lead, and this occurred after warming up on a second.  So I decided that today I really would be the BB, allowing Rongy to enjoy the leads.  The only difference being that I did second every route.  So after following him up the third line was one of my routes Trust Your Instincts:

It’s an apt name as I was doing exactly that by becoming the BB.  While Rongy has climbed here a few times, his last trip to this area was many years back and in addition there are a number of routes that he had not done before.  This was one.  He was climbing strongly, making short work of the steep headwall.  The top of this climb was knocked off, something I discovered in January of this year when I came here to top-rope solo.  Having been up it again today I reckon the top out has been made a tad easier and so has also knocked a grade of the line:

Next up was another new one for Rongy, and one of Kym’s routes that he had kindly offered up the first ascent to Wiggins back in January 2015.  Graciousness, as Wiggins’s aptly named the route, is one that gives me grief.  The lower slab is reasonable but getting established on the right arête is far from a cake walk.  Back then we climbed it more on the arête but Rongy found a cheeky and (for him) easier way up the middle of the wall before stepping across.  So was this another line at the Northern Blocks that may be now be considered over-graded:

It was certainly feeling a bit toasty, there was no wind and we were pretty well in full sun.  The scare of cold early mornings is soon going to be a thing of the past and the tell-tale signs are coming out to prove it.  Flowers are starting to bloom, bringing the expected buzz of the bees.  I also came across my first king skink of the season, he was however a little shy and scuttled off under some shrubbery.  Not hidden enough for me not to see him, but hidden enough to avoid the lens of my camera:

Due the late start, time was ticking by but Rongy was climbing so well that it seemed silly not to get just one more route in.  The chosen line being the excellent Use No S.L.C.D.’s, again not proving too much of a challenge for Rongy who was on fire.  We had brought all the gear down at the start of the session, so I decided to carry up as much as I could on a sling.  This weighed me down and forced me to dig that bit deeper, as I occasionally grunted to get past the tricky sections.  While Rongy had made it look easy it is still a solid and like the others a very fine route:

Now in a recent email I made quite a big thing about needing to “even things up”, however today seeing I was not leading I was more than happy with the five great lines that we had bagged.  We did however rap back down one more time.  For me so I could carry the last bits back up the access track, and for Rongy so he could collect some sea anemone for his work.  If you look carefully you can see him hopping across the rocks, just in time to avoid the waves that were racing towards him.  Then eventually with bags packed it was time head out:

Despite having been a BB for a day, it was a great session and we both had an awesome time.  Maybe last weekend’s trip out to Eaglestone Rock with Craig took more out of me than I realised, still there are no regrets as sometimes it is nice to take the back seat and enjoy the lines with the safety of a line above you.  I got home to another sign that springs is on its way, this little bobtail was waiting for me on the driveway as I pulled up.  With the warmer weather more climbing options also come, so I need to get on my wall more often to build up my stamina:

Hope you all enjoyed Global Climbing Day, better put the date in your calendar’s for next year if you missed it this time round!

This morning I groggily woke up at 3am and my head and body felt weird.  I wondered if it was due to what felt like a long week at work, the impending damp weather coming or maybe the single stubby of beer I had succumbed to the night before?  I wasn’t sure if I’d get back to sleep but within what seemed a few moments the alarm woke me again, it was 5am.  Time to get up if we were going to snatch another session on rock before the wintery weather closed in again.  The compulsory sippy cups of tea were made, one placed on Lisa’s bedside table as I hoped she would get back to sleep and the other followed me as I quietly crept out of the house:

The night before our arrangements had changed.  Instead of needing to go via Bunbury to pick Rongy and Howsie up I was heading straight to the crag, which cuts 30min off my travel time.  It wasn’t until I turned the car on and looked at the clock that I wondered why I had set the alarm for when I did, I could have had an extra half an hour of sleep!  So I drove a bit slower than normal , also stopping to capture the lights of Bunbury from on high before the world woke up.  Even then I still got to the crag 20min before the others drove in, as the sky turned pink:

Once first light hits here it doesn’t take long for things to brighten up, so by the time we had donned our harnesses there was plenty of light to start climbing.  Neither Howsie nor Rongy seemed to be raring to go, um maybe it wasn’t just me that seemed out of kilter.  So we decided to start sensibly, with me racking the quick draws for the first lead.  As we pondered which route, wasting even more time than usual, we eventually started to make our way along the base of the crag and for some daft reason I plumped for BBQ:

The rock was in pretty good condition but felt cold to touch.  That along with heart not having been revved up to get the blood circulating at a quicker rate meant the finger tips soon went numb.  BBQ starts with a very fingery slab and after a couple of false starts I finally got going properly.  Rongy jumped on next, deciding today was not a day to lead every route and a top rope would suit just fine.  Then as Howsie was getting ready to jump on Andrew and Steve rocked up.  Steve came across and eyed up the line and was keen to jump on next:

It took Steve a bit longer than us to get ready before he touched rock.  He did his usual running around and throwing of arms about to get the blood going.  While he was running and flapping like a headless chook, Howsie had come down and was most of the way up the second line of the day… Savage Sausage Sniffer.  Unlike, what felt like, my clumsy and slightly out of body experience on the first line, Howsie was going strong.  He even hung on thin and sharp crux holds for ages before committing to the next moves:

We shifted like a herd from one side of the crag to the next, making use of safety in numbers.  Not that there was anyone else about, but seeing it was a very relaxed and slow placed morning, we didn’t fancy shouting between the groups to keep up the, what seemed like continuous, gas bagging that was going on.  Before I blinked Rongy had run up Ebony.  While Steve was going up second I eyed up Murky Corner, not having felt that strong on the last line it seemed the sensible option.  But then somehow I got distracted and found myself on Taj Vs the World:

There are not two more contrasting lines and while I went through the motions on Taj I was feeling a bit like a space cadet.  I then followed up Ebony feeling weary and only partially listening to the cackling that was going on below me.  I heard something about Howise wanting to try some Pommy granite, so I started to rant on about the spectacular granite cliffs of Cornwall in the south west of England.  It wasn’t until later that I found out they were in fact talking about herbal teas and Howsie was keen to try the tea that Andrew was drinking… pomegranate:

Steve was keen to jump on the floppy end and Murky Corner was a sensible one for him, it was also a suitable line for Andrew to follow up.  As he finished the line Howsie was again running up another route on lead with great ease, this time Gumby Goes Bolting.  He only faltered at the ledge where you can choose the hard direct line or more sensible left hand variant.  He choose the latter while Andrew was torn between more chitchat or climbing, he eventually plumped for climbing and battled up Murky Corner, which was the only wet route of the day:

It was a day of musical ropes, each line only getting one lead but multiple seconds.  We swapped ropes, partners and even belayers while people were still climbing on the other end.  In-between all of this it would not have been a social session without a cup of tea being made.  With five of us there this was entirely possible and while I started of the tea ceremony Steve had to finish it while I was cleaning one of the routes, I forget which now.  Eventually however, it was time for Howsie and Rongy to head off, while we decided on one more line:

Steve was keen to lead this cracking little crack on the carpark slabs, but he then discovered that for once he had not brought any trad gear.  He usually brings hordes of gear everywhere, even when we are heading to a full sports crag.  So seeing he was so keen to jump on this line we decided to go really traditional and lead it with pebbles.  Much I liked his enthusiasm for this approach, I suggested that maybe it’d be better if I took the lead.  After all he’s been through a fall would not be good.  He saw sense so off I set with a pocketful of rocks:

I got three solid chock placements in, they looked and felt bomber and all three of us were tickled pink with them.  Steve came up second and inspected them taking way too many images, and then leaving them in for Andrew to check them out on the last climb of the day.  It got me to thinking that maybe it could become a theme of climbing more routes with just pebbles and slings?  Steve and Andrew looked at me sideways, maybe I was still not thinking straight, but the idea is still rattling round in my head as I type this:

Now you may notice that Andrew is climbing in his sneakers above, reason being that he badly injured his ankles in poorly judged sky diving landing, it’s also why he didn’t climb too much today.  He topped out as the clouds, that were forecast, started to roll up the valley towards us.  We got a message from Howise who was already back in Bunbury telling us it was raining and as I drove back down the hill to the coastal plains it bucketed down.  Once again we managed to bag a successful climbing session in-between the windows of wintery weather:

After more rain resulting in another weekend in the shed last week I was busting to get onto some real rock.  I tracked for forecast which indicating heading north was the better option.  That worked well as Wiggins was home and keen to get back to Boomer Crag, up near Pinjarra, and this time hit the mini-sport routes on the roadside crag there.  Friday arrived and with it a change of patterns with the storm front now coming in north of us and we watched the radar indicate Boomer Crag was getting a drenching, which continued into Saturday morning:

On the plus side to the south the radar indicated no rain, so just after 6:30 this morning Wiggins, Steve and I were WhatsApp’ing away to decide on what to do and where to go.  Wiggins felt the chance of rain was too high, plus the temperatures were only predicted to be in the low to mid-teens.  Steve however was as keen as me to get on rock, and in view of him just having come of his six week bout of cancer treatment a few weeks back we plumped for Castle Rock, due to being both to the south and having a short walk in:

As we drove south and chatted he confessed that his energy levels were going really well, better than expected and the symptoms of his radiotherapy and chemotherapy were not impacting on his ability to “get things done”.  So I slipped into conversation that whilst Castle Rock is fun, Moses Rocks would offer a greater range of opportunities at more sensible grades.  It took but a heartbeat and Steve jumped on-board with the change of plan.  Soon we found ourselves at an empty carpark, we didn’t expect climbers but that meant no surfers were out:

Steve was chomping at the bit to place some trad gear and having a good knowledge of Moses Rocks’ flared, and often shallow and blind, cracks we decided that today we would only use tricams of which Steve has a full set.  He set off on the first led, I think he may have thumped me if I had suggested that I start the proceedings of the day!  It didn’t take him long to get up Pathetic Sharks, in fact he was in such a rush that he forgot something, but you’ll have to check the above image to work out what it was:

I plumped for some Classic Thrash next, an aptly named steep face.  Being in the confines of a narrowing chimney you have to work that bit harder to avoid from finding yourself resting on the opposite wall.  Great contrived fun, which made me realise that maybe I had worked harder than I thought at the Thursday night boulder round at Glen’s. My arms held out and I was rewarded with a great belay position. While the rock was damp, at Moses it has to be running with water and salt before you lose the great friction on offer from this granite:

As soon as we had arrived I think Steve had set his sights on the next line.  A line of many a nervous a moment and the occasional serious fall.  Hathersage is not a climb to be complacent on, and I will openly admit when Steve wanted to jump on it armed only with tricams I was a tad nervous.  He started well and soon had four good placements in, doing a bit of yo-yoing to rest his arms as he laced the crack. It was a good strategy as the next move requires you to mantle the shelf from where the upper wall only has small holds and minimal gear that is fiddly:

He mantled the shelf and then kept shuffling rightwards all the way to the arête, a cunning ploy as this avoids the scary, exposed crux sequence on the face.  It also provided him with welcome gear opportunities on the neighbouring line of Stanage Youth, which I have to say I was also relieved about.  Some might say that he still followed the line and that the routes are way too close together to be independent.  Maybe they have a point, but despite these lines being thirty years old this year no one has ever thought to change their description or complain:

As bagged a few routes on the Northern Blocks soaking in the sun and scenery, we saw a jet ski with two people on it bombing about.  We made some quips about not seeing the sense in a jet ski, and then one of the people jumped in the water and proceeded to surf.  Occasionally we would see the person in the water get a tow from the jet ski, using their surfboard like a mono-ski.  They were the only people we saw in the water despite the waves, looking to us, perfect.  We left them to it and moved on:

We headed over to Hand’s Up wall, while I was tempted by Kami-kaze Catfish on the Northern Blocks, we both agreed that today we should stick to the less strenuous and more relaxed routes.  So at the next area it was an easy choice of the crag classic, Wheely Things.  As you’ll notice this is the second image of me.  Steve too had his camera and was snapping away at every opportunity, and this time when we got back to Capel he handed me his memory card so I couldn’t sneak the email out without using some of his image of me:

While it may seem that I went a bit off line in the above image, I was only busy taking an image of all the tricams lined up in this beautiful crack.  It is certainly more fiddly putting them in compared to a normal cam, especially the larger sizes.  These larger ones also tend to walk a bit and you really have to make sure they are set well, while the smaller sizes are easy to set and walk less they can also end up in places from which it is hard to get out.  Amazingly there was not on placement today that proved really problematic in getting out:

We had indicated to our better half’s what time we would be back by, and Steve was keen to make sure we stuck to it.  However, we were also keen to get another line, which of course meant getting two more in.  As you seriously can’t finish a day’s climbing on an odd number of routes!  So rather than hit the usual lines Steve plumped for this one, called Many Hands. The rock was now in perfect condition and the rounded holds and flared cracks didn’t faze us at all, in fact this line felt the best of the day:

Neither of us could help but smile as we relished every hold and move, only wishing the route was twice or maybe three times as long.  The timepiece had just pass midday and with that the wind picked up, it was still in the right direction to blow the salt spray out to sea way but there was a chill to it meaning we had to don our tops when we were in the shade.  It’s a bit weird to be thinking that in the morning we had been procrastinating about rain and cold temperatures, yet here we were climbing (mostly) in the sun and wearing t-shirts:

I ran up one more climb, the slab immediately to the right of Steve’s last line.  While some routes at Moses are pretty close it is strange how the slab that Many Hands goes up is only one route, as there are two independent lines that do not share any holds.  Despite the guide indicating we repeated a line we are counting them as separate and hence an even number of climbs had been bagged.  This last line felt like it went by way too quickly, and soon the last tricam of the day was placed, with Steve learning my belaying techniques to get the best images:

The great thing about Moses Rocks is all the bouldering and mucking about that you can do.  Especially at Hand’s Up wall there are heaps of ways to down climb after the routes, here Steve is down climbing Pink Licker.  Before we had down climbed Hard Hands, a line that many years back Lisa and I subjected Elseya to her first (and last) outdoor top rope climb.  She hated it and was not happy at all, that said she was happy to climb many harder problems without a rope.  Some were pretty damn high, high enough for Lisa to need to close her eyes:

We packed up everything bar our shoes, which stayed on our feet.  The reason being was that I wanted to play on a little boulder I had seen as we walked in, it just looked too much fun.  We dumped our bags at the base and as we stepped up to it we realised just how short it was, regardless we still had to jam our way up the crack.  Now hold on you may say, that means you ended on an odd number.  So just to make sure we then bouldered up the face to the right, it was a bit spicier and also had a heap more exposure being right on the edge of a big drop:

Finally we took our climbing shoes off and headed out for real.  Seeing I was in front I decided to take a slightly more interesting way back to the beach.  Lisa is very used to my variant approaches on walks, i.e. avoiding the normal track.  As such we found ourselves rock hopping, walking over slimy boulders, traversing above rock pools and finally needing to climb out from the water’s edge to access the track proper, as the last section was completely wave washed and neither of us fancied going for a swim: