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…
This morning while Lisa took the dogs for a walk a message came back to indicate the water was most definitely snorkelable. I was however feeling a little weary from a great climbing session the day before and my body was undecided. When she got back she told me that she had even seen a ray in the water, which made me wonder whether I should give it a go. So after packing the girls off for catch-up with friends in Bunbury I took the short stroll to the crest of the hill from where a perfect pancake ocean came into view:
There are still heaps of people in the caravan park, which has made the last few weeks pretty busy on the beach. Worse still our end is where car access is allowed and you have to watch out for crazy city folk careering down the beach with no regard for others. Today however there were very few people down “our end”, and as I stepped on the beach I could already see the familiar shape of a ray. So I didn’t wander down to my usual spot but jumped straight in from the access track and followed the little cowtail stingray along the shallows for a bit:
After a while I left the ray and headed out to deeper water. There was no swell and most of the weed from days gone past seemed to have moved on or more likely settled out. It seemed easier to find a few colourful gems, ones that have so far this season been relatively hidden in the murkiness. I’m not entirely sure what this is but think it may be an ascidian due to the holes through which water is pulled in and ejected out, allowing the particles (food) in the water to be filtered out. I’ve see them quite a bit but never really investigated what they are, and it is proving a tad difficult to pin ithem down:
I was pleasantly surprised to see a few more fish, although I had to look hard. These Western Gobbleguts are beautifully camouflaged and it is not until you see one and tune your eyes in that more appear. There were over twenty in this shoal although a good number of them spied me sneaking up on them and simply slipped further into the weed. It is certainly good to be able to see a bit more life out here and it makes me keen to get out more frequently, as I’ve been a little slack on tyring this last week:
In addition to the one decent sized shoal of larger fish, I found more shoals of baby fish not even a centimetre long. They are almost completely transparent, except for their vital organs. I was happy to also come across this fire-brick star or red biscuit sea star, it’s scientific name being pentagonaster dubeni. I don’t see too many of them here, but when I do they are easily recognisable by their striking pattern of brightly coloured plates separated by thin pale coloured lines:
As I came back in it was impossible to find a way round the stingers and they managed to clobber me pretty hard. Um maybe that is why the beach was not quite as busy as it has been? No matter if they keep the people away that’s fine with me. Once you swim out to the deeper water these jellies usually disappear, and now there are signs of things settling down the trip out and back in will be worth the pain:
I finally, after just over twelve months of trying, managed to get down to Albany to visit Kym, Meg, Tessa and Claire. While it was wonderful to see them all the bulk of the time was of course spent heading out with Kym to sample some of the magnificent South Coast rock, which is mostly granite. The area is littered with small to towering walls and enormous granite monoliths that offer a wealth of opportunities, some still untapped:
I arrived Saturday afternoon, an hour or so before Meg finished work. Her last shift for the foreseeable future as they are expecting number three soon. Meg’s dad was also there when I arrived, which has relevance but I’ll get to that later. After Meg got home and had time to settle down Kym and I headed out to a crag that the local boys had recently established called Old Man’s Bluff. This crag is just about on their doorstep only being a short 15min drive/walk from their house. The ease of access reminded me of the great local crags in Alice Springs and joy of being able to nip out for a short few hours:
There are two granite domes that provide a variety of slabs, cracks and features. The routes range from 8 to 20m and grades 13 to 23. The strangest thing about this place is that it is in clear view from the walk track into one of the most iconic climbing areas of the South Coast, and yet has until recently never attracted any interest. Kym along with Jim, Ron and John (who I was going to meet on day two) have put up some 20 plus routes, and we managed to bag a good number of them in our short afternoon/evening visit:
There were some true slab routes here, feet smearing and friction pulling holds that make you feel like you could slip off at any time. Others had flakes and features and there were even a few that had crystal nodules as the only available holds, which reminded me of some gritstone classics such as Three Pebble Slab. I’m a self-confessed lover of slab climbing and relished the routes. Slab climbing can become repetitive but here that was not the case and each one had its own intriguing features and styles. While bolts are a given on the blank slabs there was a need for some trad where there were flakes and cracks:
That was the case on this rising rightwards traverse that crossed almost the entire length of this wall. It passed a few other lines that went straight up. This meant I could make use of two bolts along the way, but other than that is was micro-cams the whole way. Better still Kym and the others had graciously left this line untouched, so I was very lucky to have bagged a first ascent on this new crag. I called it Slap 1, and as all good names there is usually a story behind it this one being named after my niggly shoulder injury that I can’t seem to shake:
I’m still not sure about my shoulder, at times I can certainly feel it and I was a bit worried about whether it would hold up with three days climbing. Smiths Beach yesterday back in my old stomping ground, this place today and then a big day being planned for Sunday. Today however it was feeling fine and we were on fire jumping on lines up to 21, which was the grade we gave Slap 1. Next it was the crag classic, a line Kym had bagged and it looked awesome. A mixed slab and crack route that spat me off at the crux not once or twice but four or five times. This route would get 3 stars anywhere it was brilliant:
After thoroughly enjoying no less than eight fine climbs the sun was dipping down and it was time to head back to the house. When we got there Tessa and Claire were in bed and having story time. So Kym and I tucked into a scrumptious quiche followed by a pavlova desert. The latter surprised me as I knew how careful Meg and Kym were with the food they had in the house. I put it down to being Christmas time, as I spied a box of favourites on the fridge and other sweet delights dotted about. Meg managed to stay awake and come out for a bit, something Lisa and I didn’t always achieve with Elseya when she was that age. So we had a bit of a proper catch-up before we all hit the sack:
Sunday arrived and I was up at my usually early time, I needn’t have worried about being noisy as the two girls are early risers and soon the house was full of noise and clatter. Kym and I were not rushing out the door, we were going to be picked up at 8 by Ron and John. So we had plenty of time to all have breakfast together and then sort the gear for our big day out. Life with young kids results in adult play time being restricted. In addition Kym has started to study, which is eating into that precious time. So full day trips like today’s have been a rare occurrence for him this year, and what with number three soon to arrive it will be even rarer for some time to come. Needless to say he was excited, as was I:
I had timed my visit perfectly as the place we were heading too had only been discovered a week ago. It was off the beaten track and it felt like a magical mystery tour. We worked our way through vegetation that was at times above our heads, then needing to squeeze through boulders so tight we had to take our packs off before a long stretch of boulder hopping with the occasional scramble required. It was a good hour hike to get to this place. Being by the ocean it was mostly downhill which was in our favour for the outwards journey but coming back would be a different experience, one not to think about just yet:
Eventually we arrived at our destination. We passed huge great boulders and numerous good looking lines. A quick look and then we passed them and I could see why, at our destination there were epic 60m plus deep zawns littered with slabs, steep walls and overhangs. There were also single pitch 20m walls and slabs with perfect level rock platforms a safe distance above the waterline. This place has so much potential with enough new routing to keep this band of merry men happy for years. Today, being the first trip here, would not see us rap into the zawns that would could potentially chew up the whole day. Instead the first sampling would be on the more accessible walls such as these:
In view of not knowing what we would find we had come fully prepared with a big rack, lead and static ropes in addition to all the gear needed to place bolts. Our packs had been full and heavy water and food and we felt light and bouncy when the packs came off. There was so much to choose from and so Kym and I headed to another wall that just had to be explored. We left Jim, Ron and John to play on the buttresses shown above, while we had a bit to eat before sorting out the gear. Then it was time to work out way down to a very aesthetic wall that we either had to climb or prussic out of. It was time for full commitment:
As we rapped in the steepness of the wall hit us, we hadn’t realised just how steep it was and we were wondering if we had bitten off a bit more than we could chew. This wall was a mosaic of rock types that provided amazing patterns and features, which had made us want to sample it. Black dolerite provided strange flakes and rounded nodules, bands of quartz and in some places whole sections of quartz provided all manner of styles of holds and sticking it all together the granite was occasionally exposed. This did mean that we couldn’t be 100% sure of the rock quality but the big problem was whether the rock may be strong enough to hold the gear during a fall:
We found a few lines that we thought would be viable, they looked steep and on occasion it was hard to see if there was gear available the whole way up. We checked out the rock quality and it felt solid and good enough to hold gear. Two obvious cracks jumped out to us, the first splitter went the whole way up but it was really steep and the top overhung crack was wide. So we went for this line which didn’t go all the way up and while it was an unknown at the top it looked less intimidating to us. I assumed the crack was pumpy based on the way Kym was puffing his way up, the good news being that it offered great gear:
Exiting the crack proved to be the crux. After the overhanging crack and pumpy jamming, with no rest spots we had to transition to small crimpy holds to work out a sequence to top out. The gear also thinned out not that there was much chance of holding the positions to place more. Kym gave it a couple of goes but was too tired, so he sent me up. He’d brought two pairs of jamming gloves along and I was very pleased to have them. I’ve never climbed with them nor ever taped up for crack climbing but today it was very needed. Either that or I would have shredded the back of my hands. I finally work out a sequence that unlocked the puzzle and topped out, assisted with some self-emitted loud vocals to help me through the nervous moments:
After that epic route, which we reckon was a worthy 22, and knowing the other lines would be either just as hard or with less obvious gear we decided to join the others on the more sedate looking lines. We lugged all our gear across and when it was al together it looked like we were preparing for an assault on some alpine or Himalayan route. The boys we’re being very sensible in their approach and had top roped several lines to check them out, unlike Kym and my ground up method. It was probably more appropriate considering the isolated location and long hike out:
They worked three lines two of which needed a bolt or two to make them safe. Kym and I jumped on the lines they had worked using the top rope system. They were beautifully sustained and a worthy length. The rock was solid and clean, and the lines required delicate yet technical slab and crack climbing. While one line could have been led fully on trad we didn’t lead it today, the leading for these lines would happen on their next trip. Today they intended only to scope the lines and placing a few bolts were needed. That didn’t worry me as these days are about the whole adventure, plus we had already managed one epic lead:
After another snack break we jumped on another fine looking buttress and found two more lines. The one below could be partly protected with trad but would require RPs and they would need to be placed in the fingertip hand holds. So we were undecided as to whether they would place a bolt of two or not. It was a great line with delicate layback moves up the flake while smearing your feet on ripples and small crystals. Five lines down and my fingertips were starting to tingle and looked red. While it wasn’t a crazy hot day it was warm and we had been in the sun for a long time, and we were all conscious of needing to save some energy for the walk out:
So before we hiked out we decided to chuck a rope down one last route, it was the one that made everyone’s jaw drop the lowest when we saw it. Another top to bottom splitter for which I was very pleased to have Kym’s jamming gloves. This one was all granite so required feet and hands in the crack, I did try a few face features but it simply wasn’t the way to do the route. However, before that malarkey there was a bit of off-width chicken winging to be down just to get off the ground. My crack climbing technique definitely needs some finessing but I managed to grunt and fumble my way up. It was an amazing line and we all managed to take it on cleanly, I with the least amount of style:
We hiked back out taking a few rests along the way, both to take in the glorious scenery but also to rest the legs. Just like with crack climbing slow and steady wins the race, so we were not in a rush and inched our way up the hills. I was back at the carpark a bit before the others and plonked myself down. A woman, her pack had climbing gear hanging out, said hello and called me by name… I had to confess not remembering her and it seems that I gave her some advice at Welly Dam way back when I was climbing with Denis one time (as she recalled a Frenchie being there). WA is a big state but it seems the climbing community is not:
This time we got back to the house at a more reasonable time allowing us to all have dinner together. As I helped clear up afterwards and delved into more of the cupboards putting things away I found even more festive food hidden. This included a stack of twelve individual Christmas puddings, so I finally had to say that I was surprised to see all this in their pantry. Meg put it simply by saying “it’s my dad”. It seems that when he comes to stay the sugar loading goes up. So to help reduce the stock pile and ensure the kids didn’t overdose on all that unhealthy sweet stuff we had ice cream with flakes for desert, but only after the kids had gone to bed:
I drove home the next morning after a much needed good night’s sleep. As it always is, it was wonderful to go exploring but also so lovely to be back home. I had just told Lisa the food story and then started to unpack only to find a four Christmas puddings in my rucksack. All I can say is that I’m neither Patrick the possum or Watkin the possum (the Pudding Thieves in The Magic Pudding), these puddings were planted!
With the promise of a cool dry day just one month into Summer what better place to visit than Smiths Beach. With the sun hitting the walls of the zawn early in the morning it is not a place to go to on a hot day, that plus the fact that it has been a staggering eighteen months since I last climbed here made it the perfect choice for a quick morning session with Howsie:
I kicked things off jumping on the crag classic, which is also the first line to fall at this crag. The rock was a damp. Maybe from the swell, surely not the small amount of rain we had yesterday morning? That would have dried by now but the rock didn’t have that salty feeling when it has been hit by spray. It was all a bit irrelevant because as I made my way to the final slopey diagonal crack I heard Howsie say it’s going to start to rain:
It came down hard and the rock, gear and rope were all sopping wet. Both Howsie and I were a bit shell shocked as to how full on the first climb had felt. While we could have blamed the rain we knew that wasn’t entirely it, so we dialled back the grade to make sure we could survive this session with some dignity. The good news was that the bank of rain was passing us over, as we made our way to Murphy’s Boulder out of the zawn and on the seaward side:
While the rock was wet the lines looked more relaxed and we picked off Over Extended and Murphy’s Scramble. Both lines were really enjoyable but still had that Smiths Beach seriousness about them. Looking at the guide I wondered what drugs Craig and I may have been on when we graded them. So we climbed them with care and then passed on the option of the inviting open project in the face comprising a wrinkled curving crack, with no obvious gear:
With the rain having moved on and the sun hitting Harbour Wall each time the clouds parted, the rock felt better. Still damp but not wet and starting to dry up, so Howsie set off up The Drunken Sailor. It looked like he was going to climb the wide crack just like Kym likes, grovel style. However after looking like he would disappear from sight he popped back out and climbed it without getting sucked in again:
The reason for his one disappearance was the need to place a bomber hex deep in the recess of the crack. I was only just able to reach it, despite climbing the route as Kym had taught me too. The first time I hit this line Kym made a “strong” recommendation/suggestion that for full value you need to get into the crack and worm your way up in very traditional style. Howsie couldn’t help from laughing as I inched my way up with what could definitely not be called style:
We then popped over into the smaller of the two zawns, a wall on which Howsie has only done one route before. So he plumped for what looked to be the driest and most likely line to have good protection. Deceptive Looks was a good choice, enough spice to make it real but with also with great holds in-between the nervous bits. The only issue with Smiths Beach is that the grainy rock at times makes you wonder just how brittle the holds might be:
There was time to squeeze one more line in, so I offered the pointy end over. Partly as I had climbed all the lines here before but also Howsie was climbing with more confidence today and I didn’t feel the need to push myself. That is my excuse and I’m sticking to it. Sandy Sunday was a perfect choice, climbed in the style Craig had intended with no venturing into the chimney just to its right:
I think it is fair to say that while we walked in with confidence we walked out feeling a little less so. We had fun on the lines we picked but they all had that slightly serious feel to them, there was an issue with trusting the rock at times and also some of the gear (but not all). Smiths Beach certainly packs a punch and today we were on the receiving end. Despite it being an old stomping ground I feel the need to start to revisit this place more often to get my head back in the game:
My optimistic outlook on the start of a good snorkelling season has been a tad dashed. Since my first dip I’ve been out three more times. The water is a good temperature but there seems to be a distinct lack of life out there. A few wrasse, goat fish and sweeps pop their heads out however there has been very little else to see other than weed. The only creature I have seen regularly and more often than before are the blue swimmer crabs:
Today I thought I’d mix things up and give the river mouth a bash, with memories of being greeted by big shoals of fish as I previously swam round the bommies there. Today the light wasn’t great with clouds blocking out the sun most of the time. As I walked down the beach didn’t have its usual “summer look” of a flat, gently sloping, clean white sand. Instead large clumps of weed banks were present with a sharp dip in the beach indicating rougher waters had recently been present:
The Capel River reaches the ocean at this end of Peppy Beach hence the name, just in case that wasn’t obvious to anyone. The amount of flow in the river slows down over spring dropping to just a trickle over summer. This usually results in the ocean closing “the gap” by filling the mouth with sand. However, I was surprised today to see the river still sufficiently flowing to keep the gap open. This was resulting in all the would-be-beach-drivers not being able to head out to the other side of the bay:
I walked past the cars picking up on the drivers frustrated states of mind. From the middle of the bay I knew that there were some good bommies straight out. The water near the shore was murky and weed was being pushed back and forth along the sandy bottom. I hoped that it may improve as I went out, but it didn’t. It felt like my last time snorkel of last season that was at the end of April. In fact it felt a bit Game of Thrones like… winters coming:
The only fish to see were a few banded sweeps, and there were no signs of the big shoals I had quietly hoped to see. The poor visibility and clumps of weed floating into vision as I swam between bommies made it a nervous snorkel. I don’t normally get worried being out there by myself but the open water sections today had me wondering what else might be out there. A stupid thought came to mind that bull sharks like areas where fresh water flows into the ocean:
I didn’t bump into any big fish with sharp teeth, but it did feel a bit dark out there in more than one way. All I can put it down too is that the season are that bit more out of kilter than normal. I might just need to wait a month or so for the water to settle down and fish and other creatures to do their thing to bring the place to life again. In the meantime much as I now look a bit like Luke’s father with my new mask, I will have to make sure I don’t get drawn into the dark side:
T’was the morning before the night before the night before Christmas and while many of you were tucked up in bed a few of us were up at the crack of dawn. The almost full moon was out and lit up the driveway as I walked to the car. By the time I was just 5min down the road the sky was waking up:
As I drove up Pile Road and made my way up the hill the moon was slowing inching its way down behind Bunbury and it was full daylight. Normally on a trip out for a before work climb, which would only have been half an hour earlier, I would have seen many cars but today there were none on the entire trip:
After making my way up the hill only to drive down into a hole, a way that Collie was described to me when I first arrived in WA, the sun was peaking over the horizon. It had been 18 degrees when I got in my car and it hadn’t changed much during the hour journey. As suspected it was going to be a warm one:
Dan rocked up with Jo and his dad and we decided to start sensibly on Block and Tackle, seeing these lines would soon be in full sun. While we had the place to ourselves there were the tell-tale signs that other climbers were not far away. This and six other lines having draws on every bolt, and that was way too much crag booty for it to have been accidently left behind:
Jo was nursing a pulley injury on her rude finger, and dad well he was sporting all the usual old age issues of a body that has been worked hard during its younger years. So as not to tire them out too quickly only Dan and I played on the next line of Shock Therapy, again making use of the draws already there and again bagging a line before the sun hit:
Welcome to Edges was the next line to fall, again on someone else’s gear, and at that time Jakke turned up. It was to be his first experience of climbing outdoors. This route has a fitting name for that prestigious occasion, which was made even more special seeing he was christening his new shoes and managed a clean ascent:
Soon after Steve and Leanne rocked up and not surprisingly Steve plumped for his favourite route of the area Raging Torrent. He too was sporting injuries and alignments. While he managed the first clip without complaining about its height (but only just), he didn’t have the strength to pull off the last crux moves:
As Jakke was enjoying the edges and Steve battled with his alignments I sent Dan up a line that didn’t have pre-placed draws. Attack of the March Flies seemed a fitting one to test him on seeing he was climbing so confidently. He pulled through the multiple cruxes and only had to reach for the glory jugs at the end but slipped at that final moment:
Leanne has not been out climbing for it could be a few years so it seemed a little ambitious to be setting off on what some regard as a sand bag route. Being a traditional style climb it only really seems a sand bag route for gym junkies and sport climbers. That said there is certainly an advantage with height on this one, something Leanne is lacking a little:
Another, self-confessed vertically challenged person, Jo managed to get on the floppy end taking on This Murky Corner of my Mind. It took a little mind control and talking too to encourage her up this line, but she managed it as did dad. This line too had pre-placed draws and the owners had still not appeared, maybe it would become the biggest haul of crag booty ever:
Dan picked was drawn to the aesthetic quartz layback arête of Savage Sausage Sniffer, and there were no complaints from Steve or I on that choice. We kept a few top ropes up and Raging Torrent was the climb that had the most attention, it also proved the most problematic for most. As the fun continued I direct Dan towards Taj Vs the World after which I jumped on Ebony Road:
It was not until we were on these final lines that the owners of the draws started to drift in car after car after car after car. I lost count of how many people rocked up but I’d guess over 20. City Summit was having it’s Christmas do and they had arrived and climbed by torch light last night, and then partied hard at Potters Gorge hence the late start. The crag suddenly felt like a crowded house with ropes going up all over the place:
It was coming up to 11 and the mercury was over 30, so one by one we drifted off leaving the big crew to crank on. It was a great morning and no doubt to be repeated next year… if not before.
Today is the first day of a week and half festive break from work and the timing was good. The temperatures have been steadily increasing towards the weekend and usually that means the sea calms down. So this morning I was walking down to the beach at a very reasonable time of 8am’ish. There was not a sole in sight and the ocean was a beautiful blue:
Lisa and Elseya have been off school for just over a week and have had a few days down at the beach, as to be expected. They had warned me that the South Western Stingers were back, these little jellies have a nasty habit of appearing just as the summer school holidays start. The pinkish tentacles gave these ones away this morning, but that is not always the case. Often the shadows they cast on the sand below is more obvious than the actual animals:
There were not too many of them this morning, and I swam past the few I saw without being stung. The tide was out and so I had an even clearer view of the weed and reef below than I would normally expect, and it also made me feel that bit more comfortable going out further. While it has been some time since I have been in the water the area felt familiar and I recognised the bommies, caves and sand patches:
There were the usual fish about, none in great numbers but it was lovely to see them all the same. I spied just one pin-shell (above) and managed to sneak up on it before it clammed up. The kelp and other weeds gently swayed with the light dancing off them creating hypnotic patterns. Hidden amongst the feast for the eyes I spotted a few shoals of small fish, too alert to be able to get too close too:
I wasn’t sure whether it would feel too cold in the water and had decided not to take my short wetsuit. After diving in the water it felt lovely and I never felt too cold, not even shivering as I got out. I’d made a special effort to clean and prepare my snorkel mask for the first dip but sadly it still misted up forcing me to pop up every so often to clear them. The beach was still empty except for one person riding their fat bike while their dogs ran alongside:
The most colourful find was an ornate cowfish, this female allowed me to get up really close and the light illuminated the patterns that are pasted all over her. Unfortunately as is often the case the image I managed to get doesn’t really show this. One day I wouldn’t mind finding a male ornate cowfish, as they have very different and much more colourful patterns:
As I scoured the sandy open areas there wasn’t much to see other than a blue swimmer crab, who was feasting on the remains of what I assume to be the tail of a small shark. He was quite happy nibbling away but each time I got too close he would scurry backwards with pincers stretched out as wide as they would go to make himself look more menacing:
I then moved onto an area I don’t normal go, as the water is deeper and there isn’t much reef. But seeing the tide was out I took a chance and stumbled across more blue swimmer crabs than I’ve ever seen. The crab in the image below started off a mucky green colour, but as I stayed near it became more and more of bright blue colour:
I thought the yoga I have been doing, which includes breathing exercises, might have helped improve my ability to hold my breathe. But sadly it does not seem to be the case, and I found it quite hard duck diving down to check out anything that looked different. Eventually I could also feel the back of my legs stiffening up, a sign that it was time to get out:
The first snorkel while it didn’t provide any new finds was still very cool and even after 45 minutes I wasn’t tuning blue. I might even pop down this afternoon for a second swim with the fish…
Just over a year ago Kym and his family moved to Albany and I’ve said several times that I’ll pop down to visit, with the intention to get out for a climb (of course). Each time our plans have been thwarted, whether due to work, injuries and this time the weather. I was supposed to head down this weekend just gone and earlier in the week the weather was looking great and everywhere was open for business including the mighty West Cape Howe. However, as the weekend drew closer a front began to develop so we decided to can the idea. The weather also closed in on the SW and we had on and off rain from Friday night onwards. That did not however put me off, so at 5am Sunday I drove into Bunbury to pick Eric up:
I’d been watching the bureau of meteorology interactive maps and I took a punt that on the Sunday morning Pinjarra would be just far enough north to avoid the rain and sure enough when we got there it was a glorious start to the day. To boot the rock, ground and vegetation was all dry so it seemed it had avoided rain all weekend. I had been pondering whether to aim for Boobyer Boulders, on the north side of Boomer Hill, but Eric had not been here before and Boomer Crag has the area classic on it plus morning shade. While I’ve been to this crag a few times it was still great to get back here, in part due to the very different feeling and setting:
Eric has mostly climbed sport, and while he has dabbled with trad the last time was when he came out with us down Willies, which would have been many years back. So it was with some trepidation that he kicked off the day’s climbing on a fine fully traditional, and one of the easiest routes, on the crag. For such a small place with only a few routes many of them are quality being interesting and sustained at their grades. I’m particularly fond of this route, it has a certain style about it and a starts with a cruxy start that keep you honest:
Slow and steady was the order of the day. We intended to have a relaxed climb but being on a different rock to what we are used to and noting that the grades would bump up quickly that plan was not guaranteed. Whether it was the flash pump or just not being very climbing fit, Eric’s calves were complaining almost from the start and by the end of the route so were his forearms. It was also no doubt due to the different psychological approach required for trad climbing, unlike sport it was not a case of clipping and going:
I then plumped for the only route in the old Perth guide that had an X rating. Maybe at the time it was put up, in 2001, the gear was not as small at is gets now. With micro-wires this slab provided just enough protection without taking away the spicy feeling. While I had felt a little woolly and light headed seconding Eric up the first line, on this one I was feeling comfortable and confident. Several micro-wires and several number one nuts later I set myself up to belay Eric up:
The only issue with the granite boulders/crags of the area is that the tops usually round off and if you belay from the top you don’t get the best view. So I decided today that I would set myself up hanging belays part way down the crag, so I could watch all the action. This also, of course, allowed for some better angles for the images. Eric didn’t seem to struggle on this line and even managed to fiddle out a tri-cam while smearing on his feet, so it looked like it was just a flash pump on the first route and it was over and done with:
So seeing he was getting into it and feeling good, and to avoid burning out too soon that is something Wiggins did when we came here, Eric set his sights on the classic of the crag. As we were driving up I got him to scan the guide and this route was one of the reasons he preferred the idea of this crag over the boulders. While they are called Boobyer Boulders they offer routes of equal height and technical range to Boomer Crag. He set off confidently and soon had his feet on the horizontal and hands in the crack, but was yet to place any gear:
The crack proved a tad trick to place gear, and being that much steeper he got pretty pumped. Fortunately, as you go higher the holds do improve and he managed to focus and work his way up to the good holds taking his time to place three good pieces along the way. Then with more secure hand and footholds he set about loosening up a bit before pushing through the next stages, which for me provides the hardest move:
He was just about to start working through the next hard part when there was a mix between a squeal and a squawk. This is when I found out that Eric is not keen on spiders. Nestled in the crack which you have to make use of was a hairy 10cm eight legged fella (including legs), which unnerved Eric. He didn’t fall or rest on gear but had to do some extra composing, and with some calm encouraging chat from myself he worked a way round the crack and avoided disturbing the little fella:
I was taking my time to check out the gear and provide constructive feedback to Eric, but there was very little he placed that didn’t inspire confidence. It was a top lead! So as I seconded up stopping to check the gear rather than just pulling it out I could feel that I was pulling that bit harder than I really should have been. I even spent a bit longer to say hello to the little fella, who was tucked away in the far recess of the crack. No doubt he was way more scared of us than us of he, so I climbed by and left him in peace:
Last time I came here was with Craig in 2016 and on that trip I attempted a line that looks soooo good, managing to get most of it clean but bottling on the crux sequence and taking a rest. So today I thought I’d give it another bash. My slightly tired feeling on the crag classic, should have given me forewarning of what was to come. I didn’t start too badly but as soon as I got to the harder moves I could feel my arms, fingers and general whole body start to wane. I thrutched my way up with absolutely no style, resting several times and whimpering most of the way. Eventually I topped out having left a bit of a blood trail:
Keen to watch Eric climb this one I set myself up halfway down our rap rope to get a good view. There were a few of the moves that are pretty reachy for me, so I thought he would do better with his go go gadget arms. He certainly started strong and was looking good, right up to the midway where you make use of a rounded arête. This threatens of barn door you off at every move, so you desperately look for anything on the face to help keep you in balance. There really isn’t much:
Eric certainly climbed it with more grace and composure than I did! That said I was still glad to have given it a crack, and would not be afraid to do so again. We were both pretty pooped after that route, so we decided that any thoughts of attempting one of the two new routes was completely insane. Craig and I saw a line of new bolts in 2016, it looked hard and we played on it briefly to confirm that is was hard… too hard. That route is now written up as a couple of grades more than my last lead, and the other new route was on par and probably harder as well as full trad:
We left the new routes for another day, but I managed to encourage Eric into taking on the next lead. After all it was his turn. He had looked at one line when we first got here and something about it attracted his attention. So he decided to give it a go, encouraged by the fact that it is supposed to be fully equipped. The original description of this route is a classic “use the cairn to clip the first BR. Then launch from the deck on small holds until you gain the Thank God jug and second BR”. Step one was easy, but step two proved far from it:
With much grunting and a bit of pulling on the first clip the “Thank God” hold was reached, but not without some potentially tendon ripping moves to reach and use the sharp and small crimps that you can’t avoid if you want to get over the initial bulge. Once the second clip was made, and after looking above him it was Eric’s fingers, arms and body’s turn to disobey his mind. He sat there for some time trying to work out how to make it to the third clip. After a few less than committing attempts he slumped back in his harness and suggested maybe I would like to try:
It was horrendous, and as I looked back to my last trip report from this place that is how we felt about it last time. In fact Craig was me grunt up this line and decided not to even bother! This time I managed to get off the deck, but the next move which is where Eric also struggled, was just too powerful. After adjusting my position, something I simple couldn’t do without resting on the clip, I carried on pulling like crazy on small sharp holds for what felt like way too long. Eric managed to work his way up and I could see he too was pulling hard and feeling his fingertips burning:
For some strange reason I thought that the last line was a few grades easier than what it actually was, and even at the grade it actually is we both felt it was a sand bag. Feeling pretty trashed we rapped down and forgot we still had to get the rap rope down. Rather than walk up we decided to do one last route, this one was now fully in the sun but it was not too hot. The pleasant crack and slabby arête provided a welcome relief from the last three steep climbs. This one was about putting our trust back into our feet rather than cranking down on fingertips:
The arête provides just enough to feel like you can work your way up, needing to trust smears and small crystals in-between the more pronounced features. Footwork is everything and this kind of climbing was a great way to let the muscles relax and brain slow down. It is the only way to climb slabs, otherwise you are likely to slip and on this route that would have meant shredding your skin as you skid down the grainy slab. We both managed a clean ascent and thoroughly enjoyed the route, a good way to finish the day:
So another successful day was had to Boomer Crag, but next time I reckon I might need to make sure the tank is full on the way up here. This little crag certainly packs a punch with its small but impressive collection of quality routes, and Eric tells me that today he feels like he’s been in a boxing match (one he didn’t win). While I’d love to come back to Boomer Hill, maybe next time I’ll be venturing to the Boobyer Boulders. Eric and I packed up our gear and headed to a bakery in Pinjarra before getting onto the highway home, just to make sure we had enough fuel in the tank to get back safely. Within 10km of being on the highway the rain hit:
Dean has been absent from climbing for some time, two years in fact, so it was not certain how much or what we might do on our Sunday trip to Willies. One thing was for certain there would be no cams used, I’d brought the usual passive gear with the hope of making use of my hexes. So my first image is of one of those bad boys placed on the first climb. I’d be keen to know if anyone can name the climb before they scroll down:
It was a glorious day, overcast but warm and only a light breeze. The rock was dry and the friction was perfect. So it was a little surprising that on our 7am arrival we were greeted to an empty carpark. In a way I was pleased not to bump into Mick and one of his tour groups today, as I intended to hover round the lines that he would normally throw his ropes down:
Tom Thumb was for me an obvious first climb, a low grade that provided climbing that was not fingery or pumpy. Although that can change if you try to avoid jamming, but Dean followed me making use of the occasional jam and topping out in good form. So I decided to bump it up a grade, again a climb made easier if you jam and of course another one that took hexes. Any guesses as to which one this may be:
It looked like he was going to style the jamming as he hit the crux move of Twenty Questions, but try as he might those hands just wouldn’t hold. So Dean restored to the face holds which makes the route a tad harder. He didn’t falter and managed to pull off clean ascent number two. Now normally I would encourage going lead for lead, but I was feeling kind seeing it had been so long since he’d climbed plus the fact that he has not done any trad leading before:
While Mick still wasn’t showing any signs of bringing down a tour group we jumped on another fun line he usually makes use of. Seeing how well Dean had cleaned the last climb the hard way we bumped up the grade a few notches this time on Setting Sun. He was adamant when he looked up that there were no holds, but gave it a crack even going for the fingery direct start. He then proceeded to cruise past the crux moves:
It was still overcast keeping it a nice temperature, but the lack of sun might also have meant that our chances of spying a carpet python (or two!) would be reduced. Our hopes were raised however when we saw a king skink basking in what UV was breaking through the clouds. He was even lively enough to scamper into cover when we got any closer than this. So we had a bit of hope in us as we went for the next longer route:
We started on Hope and this time the hexes stayed on my harness, with wires being the preferred arsenal. There was no sign of our scaly friends on the flake, but the last few times it had been the sister climb we had seen them on. Dean followed up and had to stop and think about the crux move half way up. He attempted going left, right and straight up the crack each time backing back down to have a think. After a quick shake out he took the right side and managed a fourth clean ascent for the morning with no evidence of tiring (although his toes were starting to complain):
So next we jumped on Glory, the roof near the start had him stumped for a bit but he pulled through. Unfortunately, despite it being warm enough for the king skink we didn’t get to see any carpet pythons on this climb. No matter it was a fine line and more impressive Dean managed another clean ascent even going directly up the last wall, making use of all those slopey holds. He did confess that his toes and fingers were starting to feel it, but was keen for one more:
I reckon it is always good to finish a session on a positive so I picked something I have not climbed in many, many years. I know at least one person will be able to tell me the name of this route from the following image. No doubt as you can see the hexes came out to play for the last climb. It may surprise some people that I had practically no memory of this route, so I wasn’t just using muscle memory and going through the motions that I do on so many other routes:
Sinuosity proved that little bit trickier than I expected and the gear was also a little sparse. If I had cams (big ones) there would have been ample gear, but I didn’t so it made it a very cool climb to finish on. Dean had trouble with a wire low down in the initial crack, so I told him to leave it and enjoy the climb. I was hoping he would manage sixth clean ascent, and he almost didn’t as the last few moves get a bit more technical and fingery and he was hurting:
He did manage to pull it off but his fingers looked red and his toes were clearly telling him enough was enough. That only left me to rap down and get that pesky wire out. Then enjoying the fine moves and holds on this line one more time, as I self-belayed up the route. We walked back down and a couple of climbers appeared following us down. After a quick chat we packed up our gear and left them to enjoy the peace of the place:
After walking out, getting that usual tree-trunk leg feeling that climbing up the faces doesn’t seem to give me, Dean spied a whale. So we sat atop staring out to sea and spotted a few big ones far out to see and a pod of four or five a bit closer. They were not moving anywhere fast but we did eventually have to get back on the road so we left while they continued to play in the bay:
I’ll have to make an effort to bring the hexes more often, as it was great to use those big guns again (I’m guessing the link to the title probably only makes sense to the older generation)…
