This morning we had intended to go to Moses Rocks.  During the drive, as Andrew and I were chatting it was however obvious that a rethink might be a good idea.  It was not so much that we needed a place with more relaxed grades, but maybe a place that had routes that felt more secure.  Moses is a great place if you don’t mind rounded smeary friction holds and a “more than fair share” of shallow flared cracks.  So we instead headed down to Wilyabrup and on arrival, as predicted, there was a strong seaward wind.  That meant we would be sheltered from it on the crag and the spray that the 4m swell would no doubt send into the air would be blown back out to sea:

We toyed with the main area but Andrew had been on most of the easier lines there and so for something different we went to the Organ Pipes.  It had also been a little while since I’d been here myself, close to seven months in fact.  It’s one of the lesser visited crags but I never get bored of it myself and think it is underrated, as it has a fine range of good old-school lines.  Unsure of where his head was to start with I set things off up a fine arête.  Feeling quite good I ambled up the second half forgetting to place any gear, before setting up and allowing Andrew to come up looking like batman with his cape being blown in the wind:

The air hung a little on the heavy side this morning and with the slightly raised humidity the rock was not quite perfect.  This did mean that after first route the jackets came off and we soaked in the comfortable temperature.  If we had known that we were coming here we would have brought a second rap rope, as the walk down isn’t that pleasant and is quite long.  Fortunately a large boulder sat atop the main face and that allowed us to set up a system that wasn’t too much fuss, and one that also benefited us in other ways later on:

Me running it out on my line had not put Andrew of giving leading a go.  So off he set up the steep wall on a great crack and shallow corner, his line (purposely chosen) had more options for gear and he seemed to be making adequate use of the opportunities.  As he approached the last third he moved quickly without placing anything and then stopped at the top looking about as if he’d hit a road block.  For a while I had to focus my attention, rather than my camera on him.  At least until I realised that he was only checking out the best place to set up a belay:

The base of the route was on a bit of a slab, so I padded across this and pulled the rope after me placing it into a neat pile ready for him to take it up.  I thought I had better not start climbing and leant back on the face to watch the waves, hoping to see a pod of dolphins.  It was a perfect day to see surfing dolphins, with crisp clean and sizable waves.  It was unfortunately not to be and despite both of us keeping an eye out we didn’t see any.  Just as Andrew started to pull the rope up I looked down and saw something.  Wiggins you may recall what went missing in August last year, and seven months on there is was rested on the little plant next to the rope:

So my lost black tricam was found once more.  The pin wasn’t showing any signs of corrosion and the print on the label was less faded than the tricams that I had on my rack.  However, the sling was looking a little furry.  After inspecting it Andrew just laughed as I put it back on my rack.  In my mind it can stay on there as an emergency piece for when there is nothing else left or that will fit, at least until I replace it.  So if anyone is out climbing we me and needs to use a black tricam you may want to inspect the sling, it’s pretty obvious which one is less trustworthy:

The next route is a lovely corner with a sickle shaped roof.  Very pleasant climbing up the corner that never gets tricky until you near the roof, which is where it starts to curve over your head to the left.  The hand holds become more “interesting” and as you step away from the corner the feet become more slabby, it’s a great position and seems quite improbably.  A few short moves later the arête is gained so it is not too bad, but as you can see by the concentration on Andrew’s face, it requires a degree of focus:

He then decided for his next lead it was time for a bit of fun, and plumped for one of the chimneys that Mikey had led approx. a year back during the sprint finish of his challenge to lead 10km of routes without any repeats.  I didn’t mention it to Andrew but I did think that his sport climbing rope work (i.e. rope over the shoulder until the first piece) on this lead was a bit misplaced!  It was while Andrew was mucking about on this climb, thoroughly enjoying himself I might add, that I spied another potential new route:

So next up I attempted a ground up FA of a yet to be named climb, which probably tells you that I didn’t manage a clean ascent.  This steep little number seems to have been overlooked by anyone to date.  The wall was wide enough and provided just enough holds to make it independent of the cracks and chimneys on either side.  I managed to get to the final headwall but was thwarted after that, the smeary holds to get established on a high undercling were just too greasy for my liking.  Especially seeing if I full committed the gear started to get further away from my feet and there was still a way to go:

We played on the line a few times and it definitely goes but will need a dry day and level head.  After that bit of top roping it felt like we had already slipped into bad habits, and so what would it matter if we finished off the morning with a few more top ropes.  In truth both of our arms were starting to feel the morning (or more to the point that last route) and the intention had after all been to just have a bit of fun.  The rap anchor was perfectly placed to allow us to finish off on three lines.  The crag classic up the crack and flake, my creation from my trip with Wiggins up the left wall and also another one of my projects up the right wall:

The humidity hadn’t left us and really showed on my old project up the right wall, the seemingly featureless face that provides the crux sequence was far more problematic for me than on my last trip here.  So after my one lap on it today, interspersed with me spinning off it a few times with increasingly more painful finger tips, I had no desire to try and lead it.  I showed Andrew the last piece of gear on the line, which if I failed to nail the crux would need to withstand not just a good length fall but also the pendulum that would result from the piece being off to one side.  If it didn’t hold I’d hit the deck that was 10m below:

Considering Andrew was after relaxed lines today, by the time we were done the day had proven to be quite a workout and he had done really well.  He even suggested to me that he needs a trad route to focus on and project.  The idea being to hopefully encourage him to get to that bit more.  I now have three trad projects at the Organ Pipes, two are sensible’ish and one may be a little silly.  I did suggest he took one of them but he didn’t seem too keen.  One thing is for sure I won’t be attempting a lead on any of them until we have a proper dry day and the rock feels good, either that or I need to learn to hang on like some of the wildlife:

So it began again early Sunday morning.  The first rap into Wilyabrup was as the morning light was taking effect, this image was later in the morning allowing a crisper image.  We thought the morning may have felt crisp after it had rained all day long on the Saturday, but it soon warmed up.  Better still our gamble that the rock would be dry despite all the rain paid off, at least on most routes.  Each time we rapped down my trusty old, retired from leading, dynamic rope we were covered in green flecks of material that were detaching from the sheaf due to the belay devices, um maybe it is time to retire this rope:

Why Wilyabrup… well several reasons including it was Howsie’s choice as he had his eye on a line I mentioned during our last visit.  Secondly I had a plan.  Having had it suggested that I was maybe going soft, as a result of some of my recent write-ups, I decided that I needed to toughen up.  There were a number of indicators pointing me to this notion: firstly as I have mentioned before the climbing video called Odyssey, which brought back my old ethics of attempting ground up ascents no matter the difficulty; and secondly, I’ve just read a book call The Black Cliff which is all about the history of Clogwyn dúr Addr:

We started the morning gently a lap on Hope, which I always enjoy, carrying only a single set of wires for gear.  Then Howsie jumped on Thunder Thighs, a route he had not been on before.  As I belayed I had a tickle on my ankle only to find a bull ant checking me out, with two more very close by.  So my attention moved from climber to biter and making sure that as I fed the rope out I didn’t inadvertently come into close contact with an angry bull ant.  Soon I was following Howsie up this very fine route, as I contemplated my next route:

I’d only climbed once on the Clogwyn dúr Addr or Cloggy as is more often than not referred to, and I realised that in my North Wales write up the place didn’t even get a mention!  My climbing partner at the time got spooked by the place, a shame as the place is steep in history and has amazing routes.  The book released in the early 70s was a riveting read, with many epics since the early 1900s through to the late 60s.  Hemp ropes moving onto nylons with some reservations; only slings to start with moving onto pebbles and then pegs.  Thirty meter runouts were not uncommon and often the boldest leaders had no one to follow them up, so they would unrope and finish the route by soloing up.  These guys were serious hard men:

So after absorbing all this bravado from both the screen and pages I decided to take on the route, which just a few weeks back I had top roped with the intention of Wiggins doing a bit of filming.  After the gentle warm up routes I stood below the wall and chatted away happily as I started up.  The tri-cam I suspected looked OK, as long as I didn’t swing to the right on a fall.  Then it was the committing move up to the horizontal rail, the point of no return.  I mentioned that casually and in the next second pulled up to be greeted by wet holds.  Fiddling gear into the horizontal wasn’t easy, I had to pull up each time on tiring arms to check it.  Every time it looked dodgy:

So keeping in mind Joe Brown’s attitude of two pegs (but not more) being acceptable on any one pitch I clipped the rusty looking peg.  No longer quiet so chatty and relaxed I inched through the crux moves to step rightwards before reaching up to gain the upper crack, and then it was game on.  Gear looked fiddly and my arms were tiring, so I didn’t hang about too long looking about.  The peg was getting further and further away and the dodgy gear I placed next to it popped.  Keeping in mind the stories I had recently read I pushed on.  I almost slipped off at the top before managing to flop over the edge feeling both exhausted and exhilarated.  My arms hurt, it’s a short but sharp route and strangely I felt like I wanted to climb it again, but preferably in dry conditions:

Howsie lapped the route up and came away feeling like he couldn’t back off the route that had inspired him to come back to Wilyabrup.  So soon he was starting up Steel Wall, heading for the more sensibly bolted Pascals Route.  Not having been on this line, or Simply Suicide that shares the same bottom two thirds’ish, he had to find his way and I gave nothing away.  This meant hanging on the steep start as he figured out the best way up the first crux section.  Once on the ledge came the second very fingery and the most committing crux section.  Crimping down probably harder than he should have his forearms were now starting to tire:

He managed to get within 6m of the top of the route, only one more bolt to reach and then it would have been the glory run.  He attempted to reach it a heap of times but kept falling off, eventually after three quarters of an hour he had no choice but to give up… he was out of gas.  I reckon the old boys would have been proud of his tenacity even though it didn’t pay off this time, although they may have sneered at the “drilled in bolts”.  The only drilled in bolt (singular) on Cloggy was put in by Pete Crew while on lead in 1963, it was chopped in later years as gear options increased.  Feeling good I led the pitch and Howsie managed to cruise the upper crux sequence, bearing down on a sloper to gain valuable inches to reach a better hold and then heave over the bulge:

It was still relatively early on this trip so we had time for more.  Due to the way the arms were feeling after the last two routes we decided to dial things back.  A pleasant amble up Setting Sun was followed by yet another bolted route of Fishing with Dynamite.  The last route was just easy enough to be achievable but hard enough to provide a final workout, and sap our arms of any strength they had left.  No matter that three of our routes weren’t trad and scary and the other two were easy trad lines, I think that while I attempt to shake this going soft image one scary route on each trip out is enough to get the ball rolling.  After all the other side of my old attitude to climbing was, and always will be, to enjoy being out and climbing no matter what the grade:

Atop the last climb we got chatting to a travelling climber, who was taking his girlfriend out on her second outdoor climbing trip.  Despite his years of climbing experience and obvious ability his belay looked dodgy to us, and then he showed us his rope…  the sheaf was not wearing like my trusty retired dynamic rope but was completed disintegrated in parts.  The core was exposed but he showed us that it was still in good condition to make it OK to keep using for a bit longer.  We were pleased to be leaving before anything untoward happened, and rest assured that trusty dynamic rope retired from leading has been permanently retired:

The dawn of a long weekend was upon us and early Saturday morning I was at Smiths Beach, as the light was changing.  My aim was to grab a quick climb in before we had to head to Perth for Elseya’s dance competitions.  It was a bit of a surprise to see so many surfers already milling about both in and out of the water so early in the morning.  I realise they like (some) climbers are early risers but I always though cloudy, low light periods were when you were of higher risk of becoming shark bait as you pretend to be a seal in the ocean:

It was a cool morning, with darker clouds looming out to ocean and they looked like they might bring rain.  While the rock was dry I could feel the moisture hang heavy in the air as I rapped into the zawn for the first line of the day.  The rock here has plenty of friction and today it didn’t feel like it had that salty coating this place can get.  So while it was likely to be a bit sweaty due to the rising humidity, and with the possibility of a shower I was confident that should hopefully not stop me from cranking:

After a long break of having been to Smiths Beach, I recently climbed here with Howsie and since then I’d been keen to head back.  The lines aren’t that long but certainly feel intense on lead, so there are not many people who are keen to join me when I mention this place.  Today however I was flying solo (again) and that allowed me to eye up the steeper lines of the very photogenic Camelot Wall.  Named so due to the rock lending itself to those active and passive camming devices, I reckon it’d be hard to lead any of the routes without them:

The intention was to start from the right and work my way leftwards.  The main reason being the easiest line I had in mind was at the far right, allowing me a warm up route.  Another advantage was that if the swell started to pick up there was less likelihood of being hit by the waves.  They get channelled in through the narrowing rocks and at times can hide the pillar from view as white water is thrown deep into the zawn.  I hadn’t checked the ocean conditions so didn’t know what was to come, and to start with a few waves were getting pretty close:

I have to admit that despite having a rope above me I was nervous about the second line on my list.  King Arthur is the direct version of the first line I ever climbed here.  Craig and I came here and eyed up all the lines on this wall, plumping on what seemed most feasible.  As we climbed the rain set in, and that added to the shallow, flared vertical crack made it on that day just too scary a proposition.  We instead avoided the direct line and used the chimney to its right, so creating Lady Guinevere.  We didn’t complete King Arthur until about a month later:

I’ve recently watched a climbing video called Odyssey.  Climbers well above my lowly status were on-sighting epic traditional lines in England, typical of the British ground up climbing ethic.  Climbing the lines I had put up at Smiths Beach with that same attitude back in 2010, such as Lady of the Lake, made me realise that (as some have put it) I’m possibly starting to “go soft”.  Lady of the Lake in particular is a line of that former form, the shallow very flared crack with some dubious rock and no gear is pretty intimidating.  In fact I’ve never seen anyone climb it and since the first ascent that includes me:

The last line on the wall for the day was to be The Holy Grail, a very fine line but sparsely protected.  It felt nervous on the first lap but second time I started to wonder if it earns the grade I originally gave, from a technical perspective certainly not. However, from an on-sight perspective and taking into account the position, gear and risks it is probably reasonable.  Keeping in mind my “softening up”, the one line which I have been on numerous times that I do think is a bit of a sand bag relative to the other climbs here is King Arthur.  But damn it’s good:

While the sky was still cloudy there were patches of blue appearing.  Unlike last weekend I was spared any rain, but sweat was dripping down my face.  As I topped out on the second lap on this last route the sun started to light up the opposite wall.  This place heats up quickly when the sun hits the walls so it was time to pack up and head home.  Before packing the bag I scrambled across the other side to take a few snaps of Camelot Wall.  Of particular note and in stark contrast to my recent trips to Wilyabrup is the distinction lack of chalk, this place doesn’t get the attention it deserves:

Scrambling back to my pack I decided to solo up Child’s Play, which is by far the easiest recorded route here.  It was so much fun that I decided to impose my top-rope solo requirements of climbing it a second time.  This also allowed me to take a rare selfie.  The 12 second timer on my camera didn’t allow me enough time to get very high but now I’m immortalised in digital pixels you get the picture.  Then it was back home and time to get ready to drive to Perth and watch the dance troupes do their thing:

Last night the final few acts were hip hop, and a couple of the troupes provided us with what came across as a very aggressive, angry and almost intimidating routines.  This added to the screeching banshee fans who were sat right behind us made it was both Lisa and I agreed an unpleasant end to the dance competitions.  We drove home straight after with our ears ringing getting home just before midnight.  I woke up about 6:30 and made a brew, threw my gear into the pack and headed out to Castle rock.  As I walked to the crag my ears retuned to some sense of normality and were enjoying the sound of a big mob of short-billed black cockatoos, as they feasted on gumnuts:

Finally after a several weeks of wondering when it might happen again Mr Blue Sky came out to play.  Which I will qualify with “on a weekend when I wanted to climb”!  Castle Rock gets early sun so I ran the risk of sweating off the rock with a slightly later start.  However, there was a cool breeze and that helped keep it sane start to a day that was predicated to go above 30 degrees.  With dry rock and a warm but not too hot sun, and once again going solo, I managed to climb all the lines I had in mind bar one.  That one was just a bit to testy for me today.  Um maybe before I soften up anymore I think I need to get on the pointy end again:

Back in time when we lived in Central Australia we used to work at Ooromina Homestead.  On one occasion a local film company was showing an American crew around.  They were scouting for rugged outback cliffs on which to shoot a car advert.  I can no longer remember which make of car it was, but the local fella thought I’d make a good candidate for the person scaling the cliffs to get back to their car.  Sadly nothing ever came of that, but today came a second chance to be on the other side of the lens:

I met Wiggings in Capel and as with his past films he wanted to record the whole adventure, and this meant attaching the camera to the car as we drove out of Capel.  Before we got to the highway we pulled over to take the camera off the car, and it was then he realised that the lens cap was nowhere to be found.  So we retraced our foot and tyre tracks back to the pub carpark, and as we drove out of capel a second time we spotted the lens half a kilometre away from where it had been no doubt fallen off the bonnet of the car.  So it was “take two” and we were back on the road:

The sky behind us was a mix of clear skies above with distant clouds, clouds which looked like the burning embers of a dying fire.  Back in the UK the old saying is “red sky at night shepherds delight, red sky in the morning shepherds warning”, I didn’t know till now but the original rhyme is an old maritime verse and it has been around for a couple of millennia.  This morning the skies were red, which meant that clear skies to the east were allowing the sun to light up the underside of moisture-bearing clouds.  The saying assumes that more potential rain clouds are coming in from the west:

We all know what assuming does, and after all who bothers with old folk lore when you have a weather forecast.  Both Wiggins and I had been checking it during the week and the morning was to be dry with only the very light chance of a very small sprinkle in the late afternoon.  The forecast was proving right as we turned onto gravel road of Wilyabrup Road.  We stopped here and the camera was mounted on the car one more time.  This time we made sure that the lens cap was placed somewhere safe.  As we drove in we saw plenty of roos in the adjacent paddocks, but none of them hopped out in front of us now that we wanted that to happen for the footage:

On the walk in things were looking good, no wind, a cool morning and dry conditions.  Then as we came over the crest of the Leeuwin ridge we saw what was coming.  Out to ocean and both north and south of our chosen destination there was a hazy look, which would normally only mean one thing.  Sure enough as we got within 100m of the crag rain started to fall, even by Craig’s standards.  Not only that but as we stood on the edge looking out the wind was obviously coming from the north straight down the coast.  While these conditions don’t faze me climbing wise they were certainly not the best conditions for filming:

I’d come prepared to top-rope solo, allowing Wiggins to run about and film the events.  It was also his first time of using his Wiral® LITE outdoors, which is a suspension cable system on which you can attach your camera.  The good thing with this system being that unlike drones it can be used in confined spaces and through trees.  We remained ever hopeful that the weather would clear up, so we agreed on the best place for him to set the cable up a choice predominately made to make sure we could avoid the wind (as much as possible):

I then set myself up with a few warm up lines running up Inner Space to start with.  Unfortunately it didn’t seem that optimism was going to win the day on this occasion and while the rain would ease off a bit, each time it came back in.  I’d done two laps on the first route and conditions were not looking great, so Wiggins understandably had not put his camera on the cable.  Seeing I was on top rope I simply moved the system across to Water Fall Second Folly and went for two more laps, hoping that by the time I’d come back up things might improve:

By now the whole face was wet and dripping.  For those that know the compact gneiss that forms Wilyabrup, a layered hybrid of granite and sedimentary rock, they will realise that it is not absorbent and any water makes those slopey holds pretty spicy.  That added to the steep headwall on which handholds are everything made the climbing extra exciting.  I needed to focus pretty hard to pull the last few moves.  While Wiggins didn’t want to get his fancy-pants camera gear wet there was always my trusty and beat-up point and shot, with which he caught some great images of me pulling faces as I focused on those last few moves:

With two climbs in the bag, no filming done, the cable system packed away and rain falling in every direction we were just about ready to pack up when I mentioned this climb as one I had my eye on.  Wiggins suggested I give it a go anyway, so off I set up Real Woman Accept It For What It Is.  A strange name and I have no idea of the history or whether it may be deemed sexist or not.  That said back in 1985 when it was put up I’m sure they didn’t worry about political correctness quite so much.  I’m not sure of anyone who has led this climb, the bottom half seems to have no gear and it is pretty steep and sustained:

My arms were burning as I topped out.  Wiggins then kindly reminded me of my self-proclaimed ethics of doing each route twice when I was top-roping, um… So back down I went for “take two”.  Truth be told the second lap is usually more comfortable for me and I even spotted a possible tri-cam placement in the lower wall that might make it a slightly more sane lead.  The top out is certainly protectable but pumpy and I wonder what it would feel like to be hanging on those holds while fiddling gear in.  One to ponder when conditions improve:

This climb would have been the perfect choice based on where the cable system was previously placed, and as it happened the sky had started to clear up after my two laps.  So we agreed that I’d take a rest while the system was set up for a second time, so we could get some footage.  Wiggins went back down Left Hand Crack to set up the anchor point for the cable, you may recall that being a line I’d been on during my last two trips to Wilyabrup.  Not today however as it is the low point of the shelf and as such was today running with water:

Next task was to run the cable to the second anchor point, he’s got a 50m and 100m cable so it can span quite a long distance.  While it may seem a difficult system to set up for these sorts of locations, bear in mind that it has been designed equally for dealing with those locations that drones just can’t go.  This was a relatively easy setup and he had things in place pretty quickly, fortunately he was using the yellow cable so you can see it in the image.  There is also a black cable which would be less obvious in footage when the camera angle can’t avoid the cable.

The final part being attaching the remote controlled pulley system, with camera attached.  By now my arms were feeling fully recovered and ready for action, and I had no concerns about the climb that scared me earlier today.  However, just as he placed the camera on the cable a few drops started to fall, the clouds moved in and that heavy greyness fell around us as the drops became more frequent and heavier.  Geez is it really summer, and what went wrong with the forecast?  Yet another “take two” as the camera went back in the bag and we decided once again to pack up:

This time we walked out, and as we did the sun came out and while it was only in patches it really did look like it might clear up.  We checked the weather forecast and that hadn’t changed at all, no rain predicted and no rain having been identified as having fell at the closets weather station.  We decided not to go back down but we did stop for a short while on the final part of the track back out.  The system was set up between two trees and I walked up and down the walk track with my pack on doing my best to act natural:

So while there will be no climbing footage from this trip at least Wiggins got to trial the system.  Next time the weather gods will hopefully be more considerate, the forecast might be more accurate or who knows we might put faith into the old folklore or just cross our fingers and go for it.

Whilst I have been quiet on the email front for few weeks that is not to say that I have not been getting out.  It’s been a strange summer climbing season so far, you’d expect everyone would be busting to get out but it has not been the case.  For our local crew there have been a variety of reasons including people studying, objectionable job rosters, general life, and of course injuries of which I report yet another in my last email.  As it turned out Glen had every right to say that his foot “hurt like hell”, as he managed to sustain a clean break to his talus.  If you are keen to watch a bit of GroPro footage of the gripping bone breaking moment check out his story and video (Weekend Whipper: How to Break an Ankle):

Two weeks back it was again all quiet on the climbing talk front so I shouldered my pack ready for my second top-rope solo trip of the year.  Another beautiful cool blue sky morning on Wilyabrup rock in perfect conditions, only marred by the smell of the rotting roo carcass on the way in!  After a couple of runs of each of the six great lines I still had the crag all to myself.  Last week Rongy and I headed out, he’d not been climbing much and so wanted a cruisey morning of fun.  We did exactly that but this time a southerly made the already cool morning chilly and wintery, and in addition the rock didn’t feel that great and friction is everyone on Wilyabrup rock.  So we will blame that for our seemingly lack of ability on that day:

Yesterday I headed back to Wilyabrup for a third successive weekend with Howsie.  Another early 4:30 wakeup time to get there for just after first light and just in time to make use of the facilities, which I’m only telling you in case you were wondering why there is an image of a doorway above.  Starting a day-off in darkness seems a little crazy, but all is forgiven when you arrive at your destination in time to watch the world wake up.  We of course had the place to ourselves, but we didn’t have to ponder too long where to head too.  Despite Howsie having climbed here many, many times he confessed that there were heaps of routes he had never been on.  That didn’t mean to say he had climbed all the routes within his capability, so today he was going to be breaking new ground and take all the leads:

We started with Sirius, one of the very few two pitch climbs at Wilyabrup.  It’s quite staggering that he had not been on this before, it’s the iconic easy grade line on the majestic Steel Wall.  A face that can be seen in many a coffee table climbing book.  Like Rongy he too has been relatively absent from the outdoors, so the first few pieces of gear took a bit longer to place.  However, once underway he made short work of the great traverse across the face of Steel Wall.  I might add that Steve’s insitu pink tricam that I have often photographed and included in my reports has gone, if you want to see why check out Wiggin’s really cool video (Washed up punks training laps):

An interchangeable belay was set up so we could swap over, remember Howsie was to be the leader for the day.  So I settled down and watched the waves as he set off on pitch two.  Up the arête and round the corner to follow the fun rounded cracks with an impressive amount of exposure falling below him.  One of my favourite images that I have taken was of Wiggins leading this pitch, and it is deservedly included as an introductory image to Wilyabrup in the South West WA Rock Guide.  Atop the crag we shifted the rap across and went back to the belay at the end of the first pitch, where I settled in once more:

The first bolt on this line is relative high, depending on your stature.  For me care is required in making the first clip.  However, with an extra four inches of height on me Howsie has a reach that allows him to at times make some sequences a little easier, or where sport climbing comes safer.  This line was never claimed, despite someone going to the effort of bolting it.  So when writing the guide it seemed appropriate to simply call it Unclaimed.  A dull name for a route that deserves more attention.  It’s a ripper with thin delicate climbing for the first half, and just when you think you’ll never sustain the climbing, and that the route is a complete and utter sandbag, the holds become increasingly more generous.  As such it’s a real test of your mind, and Howsie’s was in perfect tune:

The next chosen route took us back down to the same belay and another climb that starts from the traverse of Sirius.  In truth it is the upper part of a climb that starts from the deck, but the first half is substantially more difficult being almost 50% harder.  Hence for us mere mortals the upper half is both long enough and worthy enough to be climbed in isolation.  So it was back down the same rap for one last time, um maybe one day I’ll buy a rope protector.  We again made use of the same belay set up.  This time it did however require a bit of clever rope work, just to make sure that me belaying 4m off line didn’t result in any gear being pulled:

This line was of the same grade as the last, so well within Howsie’s capability.  I jumped on this line at the recommendation of the local outdoor adventure tour operator Mick; he stated is was right up my street.  He was not wrong it’s very good, but interestingly I’ve never seen anyone else ever attempt it.  In truth it is not as technical as the last climb but being full trad and with gear that is hard to find and place earns the grade.  Any energy saved by having less technical climbing is quickly lost by the time taken hold on trying to protect the line.  Added to that the gear, certainly to start with, is verging on marginal.  It is not until this fine wire placement comes that a degree of confidence seeps back into your body to steady the nerves:

By the time you get the above wire in you are already a fair way up (as shown below), so this line really can mess with your head.  Mick was right it really is my kind of climb, and as it turned out Howsie’s too.    A couple of moves after the good wire some reasonable gear can be found as shown above, and then the gear runs dry almost to the top of the crag but on thankfully better holds.  While it may seem crazy to have belayed from the side for this line the images of Howsie on lead were worth it, unfortunately however for you I couldn’t overload the email with them.  Jumping on this line again certainly makes me want to lead it again:

We kept the rap line in place but moved away from Steel Wall, Howsie had already set his mind on which routes he wanted to bag next.  The Unbolted and the Beautiful, put up and named by yours truly after there had been some dodging route development in the early 2010s.  So off he set with clear instructions on ensuring a good multi-directional carcass catcher first piece of gear.  I was hoping to get a few different angles of someone climbing this line, and the only way to do that is to have the (relative) freedom to move about:

I was very pleased that he led the line as intended.  I’ve witnessed a number of people sneaking into the vertical crack of Thunder Thighs, which takes away the excitement and uncertainty of the crux sequence.  That said the upper section is equally good, the wall steepens up and there is a bit of a runout to reach the first good horizontal and bomber pro.  As I was happily wandering about checking out angles I got a fright when another climber asked if he could pass by.  He was heading to Steel Wall to top rope solo some of the classics, so as he wandered along to set up I followed Howsie up yet another fine lead:

Now you may think that I’m not getting much of a work out doing all this top-rope soloing and then letting someone else take all the leads.  I do however take my time going up, checking holds and gear placements, both used and missed.  I also fully sort the gear taken out as I climb, as only someone as OCD as I would, forcing me to stay in positions for longer even if they are at times less secure positions.  For his next chosen route he confessed that he had followed Mikie up it once, but had not led it himself.  As he set off on Rhys’s Rapid Retreat I was pleased to see the multi-directional carcass catcher being placed first:

He worked his way up to the small capping rooflet, above which balancy crux moves require some serious focus.  He seemed to freeze for some time eyeing up the options. It was almost as if he was looking for an invisible positive crimp or maybe jug to pull past the next move, and each time he moved up it showed.  This crux however requires high footwork and trust in a low, small and slopey side pull.  His arms were starting to go, and from my experience of watching Rhys climb this line the move to back under the rooflet is difficult and even more so when tired.  So when he tried it I wasn’t overly surprised, and was ready to catch him, as he slipped with well-placed gear close enough to make it a safe fall:

It was a great effort, being his sixth successive lead on unfamiliar routes each being physically or/and mentally sustained at their grade.  After a brief rest he fired past the crux with confidence and made short work of the remainder of the route.  I cleaned the line and when we got back to the bags it seemed there was plenty of time for one more route.  Understandably Howsie was more than happy to offer the lead over, so I decided on a line that I backed off just the previous week with Rongy.  Left Hand Crack is a good test piece in its own right.  However many years back Kym and I climbed a variant finish, which is what I backed off last week:

You almost climb the entire vertical Left Hand Crack route before stepping left to establish yourself on an large under-cling on very marginal feet.  I was happy in that the initial crack posed no difficulties, and in fact felt really good.  You then have to stay in a tenuous position sort some gear and then tentatively move left.  Despite it being late summer the under-cling was wet, making me more nervous move much more slowly and hold on that much harder.  It’s a great traditional thrutch trying to under-cling and then move into unseen (but incredibly good) jams, all the while wondering how you are going to get any gear in and added to that having to trust slopey smeary footholds:

The footholds do improve and finally the hanging block turning into a much easier side pull, but all that came well after my mental energy had been well and truly sapped.  After resting on the gear part way along I managed to finish the line off in an extremely vocal fashion, only realising after the event that I had a large family observing my antics from the ledge that can be seen in the background.  I’m very pleased to say that Howsie followed in great style and managed a clean second to wrap up a very fine morning’s climbing.  All that remained was to pulled the rap line and pack up, and having all the gear on top of the crag meant our legs were thankfully saved from the walk back up the crag:

With a New Year’s resolution of quitting the smokes and beer Glen was keen to try out and see just how awful or not it would be getting up for an early climb.  Word had it that the usual crags were likely to be busy, due to an organised trip by the Perth climbers so today we decided on Cosy Corner.  This is the most southerly crag along the South West’s Cape Leeuwin/Naturalist coastline, and as such takes a little bit longer to get too.  Glen was up and raring to go at 5 when I picked him up, and by 6:30 we were at the crag and ready to rap in:

There were two cars in the carpark ahead of us, who had camped overnight.  So we let them be and walked off along the cliff to get set up from the platform that leads to the gentle introduction climbs to this area.  While there is a scramble down, and it is possible to boulder along the black basalt rocks at the base of the cliff we opted to rap in.  The tide was low enough to make the scramble less risky, but it just seemed to make sense to rap in and save time:

Being a new location for Glen I set things off on Crystal Corner, which set the scene for how things would go today.  The sharp rock bit into our fingertips, which were still feeling cold.  Bomber gear was on hand when most needed, as you climb on rounded cracks and flakes which will happily slice your skin if you didn’t take your time.  That may not make the place sound inviting but the routes are fun and you can’t beat the location.  As any good real estate agent will say, location is everything:

Not only had Glen not been here before, it was also his first time of leading in some time.  Feeling bit rusty he was keen to ease back into the feeling that only being on the sharp end can give you.  So I sent him up what would normally be the warm up climb called Bland, which it is not.  Plenty of gear, good holds and fine moves which he enjoyed thoroughly.  He will hopefully have some footage on his GoPro, but it was playing up a bit so we shall have to wait and see:

This place looks like it should have stack so routes, but much of it is ledgey and blocky.  Hidden gems are to be found and I have my eye on two walls that I reckon will yield half a dozen or more lines.  These will be left for a future jaunt down this way.  It has always felt like it is a long way to come for a climb but really it wasn’t that far and maybe my trips here can become a little more frequent.  I’ve only been here four times in 13 years, and that includes today’s visit:

For now Glen and I were aiming to enjoy a chilled climb and the fabulous belay positions with the water lapping just below our feet.  This included repeating the very fine Crystal Cut, for which the first third feels like you are climbing up a wall of quartz.  Spreadeagled positions and a big reach onto the headwall all the while trying not to allow the crystals to cut you.  It feels a little unnerving knowing how brittle quartz can be, making pulling on the holds that bit more exciting:

All the while Glen had been spying a wall that has no routes on it yet.  It looked long with a few good sections but also a bit easy angled.  So we talked about chucking a rope down it to see if it was worthy, but first we decided to finish this section of the cliff off by climbing the last route.  Bad Directions is a Steve and Leanne route.  Steve somehow managed to mistake a rib for a corner (how we will never know) and so became this fun line.  It does however have a worrying large flake half way up, which Glen said was “flexing”:

I just laughed that off and told him to follow the line round the flake.  He eventually went for it and I think he surprised himself when he climbed the left trending crack with tiny feet holds on the slab.  He was finally trusting his feet and looking good.  The flake was still worrying him so he went further left and placed a high piece of gear in the climb I start us off on.  That was someway off to the left, before he gingerly stepped back right to get onto his line.  Once above the flake it requires gaining a ledge that is somewhat awkward:

He was looking and feeling confident.  So much so in fact that he passed the obvious easy and bomber gear before trying to mount the ledge.  Once he started he couldn’t reverse the move and almost slipped, he tried again and this time called out that he was off.  He fell initially down but then swung wildly left, tumbling over himself as the piece he had placed off to the far left took tension.  It looked pretty spectacular and immediately afterwards he was talking to me, which was good but he did manage to injure his ankle:

Being a well-trained State Emergency Service volunteer trained in vertical rescue he managed to undertake a self-rescue, as I looked on helplessly from below.  Luckily the rap rope was within reach and he used a couple of prussics to get to the top, tie off and then belay me up.  I was greeted by one bloodied knee, one swelling ankle and a big smiling face.  He managed to get to a good position where we took his shoes off and I placed a compression bandage, a little tighter than normal, round the ankle that was forming an egg:

The good news was that his knee that had been plaguing him for some 18 months or more was absolutely fine.  We decided that while the adrenaline was still pumping through his body, it was probably best he tried to hobble back to the car.  Leaving me to throw everything into the two bags and pack horse them out.  As I looked over my shoulder I saw him inching his way out like an old man:

As I strode across the rocks I wasn’t catching up with Glen.  As I got closer I could see the carpark was packed.  Despite all these cars no other climbers were in sight, it really is a place that does not get the attention it deserves.  Either that or we have a different view on and/or reason for climbing to others. Despite the little mishap Glen has already committed to coming back to Cosy Corner, it’s charm had certainly caught his attention.  We briefly discussed the last route and agreed it may be a tad of a sand bag.  That would however not be due to Steve, but probably me if my memory serves right:

Like all the people who flock here for the beach, Glen was also following a growing crowd.  His crowd however was that of local climbers who seem to want to stuff up their ankles, now making it number three is a short period of time.

With the thought of a hot day an early start was on the cards for this morning.  I had in mind where I wanted to go, but it did depended on who was keen to get out.  As it was no one was available so for the first time in a long time I went out by myself.  Seeing it was going to be just me I guessed I’d be moving pretty quickly, so I didn’t leave super early.  By 6:30 I was all set up and at the base of the first route of the day, looking out to ocean a broken wire hung from Peaches, an aid route I’ve never been on, but maybe next time:

Going back in time to April 2012, I did the first ascent of Trust Your Instincts an alternate, and to me more logical, finish to Power Your Mind.  In my last email I mentioned that the top of this route had changed, with the final blocky finish having disappeared.  Eagle-eyed Steve had also noticed in the images I provided that the block sat back from the edge of the belay ledge was also gone.  It is possible that this block had been pushed off taking with it the top of my route.  The question I wanted to be able to answer however was how would my route climb now:

This was the reason I had decided to head back to the Northern Blocks of Wilyabrup, plus it has been a long time since I have climbed this route and the many fine adjacent lines.  So I rigged up a positional anchor for the top rope, a lesson was well learnt on this very line and not forgotten.  Wiggins will know what I am talking about!  I chose to start on this route, as it was the easier of the two lines I had in mind on the east face.  Facing east the sun would hit this wall as soon as it rose above the horizon, and I was keen to climb it when it was still shady:

It was harder than I remembered, so much so that I took a rest part way up to figure out the moves.  I could blame it on the flash pump but won’t do that.  After topping out, with just the one rest, I decided that I should climb each line today twice.  So I went back down and climbed it cleanly second time round.  I’m glad to say the grade stays the same despite the change to the top out, the climbing just ends a little bit sooner but that does not detract from the quality of the route.  I then moved just one route to the right:

This required a slight adjustment to the rope lengths off each anchor, and then I went back down again.  Green Stone was to be the hardest route of the day, and I remembered it being a very nervous lead.  A fingery and reachy start leads to some good hand holds on steep ground, i.e. don’t hang about too long or you’ll pump out.  From here you need to simply trust the rounded flake (shown above) and layback to glory without barn-dooring off.  When Kym led this in late 2017 he didn’t place gear in the flake, making for a long 3m plus runout and a very nervous belayer:

After my two laps it was time to head round to the west facing wall, which would remain shady for much longer.  This required me to move the entire anchor setup, which gave my arms the chance of a well-deserved rest.  The northern Blocks don’t get heaps of traffic but judging by the chalk that was on the next set of lines I’m guessing there were some recent visitors.  Every potential hold was chalked up, so much so that following the chalked holds would have taken me off route in some situations.  Today the rock was in perfect condition so while I dipped my fingers into the magic white powder a few times, I really didn’t need much at all:

In case you were wondering what I was using to top rope, I had my trusty ascender that I had bought along with some tinsey-tiny micro wires way back in the mid-90s during a trip to Italy.  I’m not sure what possessed me to buy the ascender, as it hardly got any use in the UK or indeed Alice Springs.  The ridiculously small wires have however been used plenty of times.  The ascender finally started to get used here in WA, and was getting a big workout today.  The next line to fall was Corpus Delecti (above), again climbing it twice, which may seem strange.  However, I have to say every line was quality so I really enjoyed doing them twice:

Next on the list was Digital Delecti, a feisty and fingery face climb.  Different from the others in that it is mostly bolted so doesn’t follow any continuous crack lines or flakes.  For this reason it feels more desperate and I noticed my forearms starting to slightly ache from today’s workout.  With each climb on this face there was a need for some refinement of the anchors, which allowed me short rests between routes.  Then before I jumped on the next line of Use No SLCDs (below) I had a longer rest, as I stopped to watch a huge pod of dolphins lazily swimming past:

It was then time to move the entire anchor setup onto the final and easiest line of the day.  The classic Banana Split simply had to be climbed.  Not being a direct line up the wall I placed gear in this one to keep the rope directional.  By this time I’d had my shoes on for two and half hours and my feet, more specifically my big toes, were starting to complain with still two laps on this route to go.  The first lap wasn’t too bad, as I was once again absorbed by the very fine climbing and I even jammed the entire way along the top curving crack, avoiding the other available holds just for the sake of it:

Then back down and one final lap, for those keeping track that makes six routes and twelve laps.  Now my feet really were ready to escape the confines of the shoes and despite being the easiest line of the day, by the time I got to the top curving crack my forearms were also starting to properly complain.  About half way up I found a good stance to rest up and looking into a crack noticed this little fella.  As I got closer to get a better look I could see him try to shrink further back into the crack.  A sign to move on and stop stressing him out, and finally top out and take my shoes off:

A leisurely pack up was followed by the luxury that the Northern Blocks provides, a walkout without needing to scale the height of the cliffs.  It was certainly warming up and by the time I got back to the car I was ready for some air-conditioning.  There were a few other cars parked up and one crew was only just getting ready to walk in, with probably less than an hour before all walls would have full sun.  I drove out and the thermometer indicated it was just a tad below 30, and I muttered to myself mad fools:

Yesterday Rongy and I plumped for the Northern Blocks at Willyabrup.  The option of routes here are less with more being that bit steeper and harder than at the main cliffs of Willyabrup so they don’t see as much traffic, by others or us.  We’d decided on dropping into The Terrace, which mean abseiling in and climbing out.  A narrow limestone gravel shelf providing a perfect ledge to wander along the base of the crag that sits quite high above the coastline.  Despite the vertical separation this is a crag that is susceptible to salt spray and can fell greasy, but today it was not too bad at all:

We started the morning off gently.  Wandering up a couple of warm up routes on the far left of the shelf.  One of the routes is in the guide, being the crack line on the left wall in this image.  We also climbed a vague line a bit further to the left, which continued up the shallow flakes that can be seen in the upper wall.  I wasn’t sure about this line so Rongy started the day on it and it proved to be a worthy route.  We didn’t pay that much heed to it being a new line so didn’t talk about names but we should write it up:

As we were doing the first two lines, we spied the above route.  A good looking crack that obviously took plenty of gear and would probably be OK.  Another line I wasn’t sure about but that didn’t stop Rongy leading it and making it look stylish.  Unfortunately he found chalk on the route so it wasn’t our second FA of the day, plus as I typed this with the guide by my side it became clear it was first led over forty years ago.  I then jumped on a route that has scared me a bit in the past, the wall to the right of the arête.  While the holds felt big and solid on this occasion, at the grade it was still a solid and very fine route:

Considering we were at The Terrace and despite me talking this place up a bit, the first four lines of the morning were relatively sedate.  So it was time to bump things up a bit.  Kym you’ll be pleased to know that this started with another ascent of your fun line, which also happens to the be the longest on this crag.  The start moves made Rongy think once or twice but once he got past them he blazed up the rest of the line.  We did take a few moments at the bottom to check out the towering face with the capping headwall, a technical route of Shane’s and as with most of his routes one that commands respect.  We left that line for another day:

There is a climb here that I’ve followed Kym up twice.  On both occasions when I’ve seconded it I’ve really struggled to get up the route clean.  However, after a relatively successful attempt at similar graded lines in Albany just last weekend I decided I should give it a go.  The start moves are reachy and so whilst technical require a bit of momentum to get them, on both occasions I manage them but almost slipped.  Then came the crux of a rooflet that is surmounted on thin holds, that lead to more forearm burning thin holds.  So it goes on but the angle does easy for the final wall.  I did some loud talking to myself at those desperate moments, which helped me manage to get up it clean:

Feeling very happy with myself and having lifted the bar Rongy decided to check out just how strong he was feeling, bumping it up three more grades.  He started strong and was moving well.  The first high bolt gives me the heebie-jeebies, due to the landing the possibility of slipping off the terrace onto the rocks below.  But he climbed with confidence, clipping that one and working out how to get to the next one.  Unfortunately from his stance he was a mere inch or so away from reaching it.  He has not being climb as much as the old days and so his stamina was not what it used to be and his arms gave way:

After a bit of air time he sensibly decided to bail on that line and leave it for a day when he would hopefully be feeling stronger.  Not wanting to take his lead I let him decide what was to happen next, we had no choice but to climb out.  The obvious line was the one that I have climbed on every trip here.  That said it doesn’t make this leaning flared corner crack any easier.  The higher you get the more strenuous the stances are, right up until the glory jug can be snatched at the top.  I followed Rongy up and was a little surprised at how much my arms were burning up on the upper section.  As I snatched for the glory jug I was quietly grateful Rongy hadn’t preserved with the harder line:

We wouldn’t normally end a day on an odd number, I’m a bit OCD like that if you didn’t know.  Today however we both left like we had bagged some good lines and were also suitably tired.  I did have a little voice telling me to do one more line to even things up , but my arms were saying “end it on a glory run up your past nemesis”.  Before walking out I did however look at the line I had in mind, also wanting to show Rongy the route as he hasn’t been on yet.  As I looked at it something looked different with the top section, and sure enough the finishing blocks have all fallen away as shown by this now and then montage:

I’ll have to come back for that one to see how the rock fall has changed the line, and Rongy too now has unfinished business here…