Paddling the Denison River

It’s been way too long since my last update, but unfortunately there hasn’t really been much going on until now. The shoulder injury I described in my last post has turned out to be a screaming epic for a start, and the past semester of uni has been pretty brutal but things are looking up now summer has started. After resting for 8 weeks and some physio work, my shoulder was still playing up, so I ended up having an MRI, then referred to a specialist, then another (contrast) MRI, then a cortisone injection and now I think I’ll end up going to Sydney to get it sorted. This has meant I haven’t climbed anything for the past 5 months other than a few easy routes. Grim times. What I have been doing is mountain biking a lot to stay fit and of course studying, but now that I’m on holiday I need some proper missions to stay sane.

Some time in October over a pint at the New Sydney it was decided that we should paddle the Denison River. After next to no organisation, Scotty, Aaron and I spent 5 days paddling it in the week just gone.

I was expecting it to be an epic adventure, and it certainly lived up to its reputation, even though we had a pretty uneventful trip. We got some great info off a few people and some pretty spot on maps which made life much easier. After a bit of discussion we decided to take plastic boats, but carry all our gear in a backpack and drag empty boats on the walk in. I headed out to lake Gordon the day before the trip and did a shuttle run of some kayaks across the lake, as we only had a small boat that wouldn’t fit everyone and their boat. I found the start of the track easily with a GPS, and left boats and some gear at the Northern end of Pearce Basin. The trip back was probably the biggest whitewater of the whole trip, with a big westerly change arriving with a hail storm and some decent waves. Bashing into big waves by myself in the middle of the lake in a hailstorm was less than ideal, but you get that on the big jobs.

Taking boats across the lake in the tinny

The weather the next day was not much better, but was at least calm for the boat trip out across the lake, which was a slow trip in an under-powered boat. Next up was the walk in – 6km with a vague track at best through the Southwest scrub. It actually went pretty quickly, but was definitely one of the most physically demanding days I’ve done. It rained most of the day and we only got a few views along the way. It took us a little over 7 hours to get to the river, which was roughly what we had hoped for. With not heaps of daylight left we threw a spraydeck and lifejacket on over the top of our walking clothes, which were totally saturated anyway, and paddled a few hundred meters to a campsite we’d been told about. It turned out the beach was only a few inches above river level and it had been raining all day, but we found a slightly higher one just up one of the tributaries. I had a pretty shocking night’s sleep, which meant I woke up around midnight and checked the river level. It had come up about 2 inches in a few hours, and as we were only about 40cm above the river, this was a bit concerning. Luckily it dropped in the rest of the night and all was sweet.

The ‘track’ on the walk in

Camp on the first night

 

The next days paddling was meant to be one of the biggest days of the trip, so we started fairly early and smashed out the many kilometres of flatwater to get to Marriots gorge. We had quite a high flow so the flatwater went quickly, and we were all happy to be on a river after the grim walk in. Paddling under the Prince of Wales range with big huon pines draping into the river was a pretty awesome experience.

Huon Pine growing into the river

We didn’t really know how long it would take to get through Marriots gorge, so smashed out the rapids and went through pretty quickly in case it was epic. We boat scouted most of it, portaged one rapid with a log in it but paddled the rest and were out of freedoms gates by lunchtime. Surprised by this rapid progress, we had a decent lunch break at the campsite, then pressed on to the junction of the Maxwell river to camp. We made it into camp by about 2pm, which meant we spent the sunny afternoon lying on the beach, drying gear and sipping some merlot. It was a great afternoon off and much needed after the past few days of grim weather and hard work.

Scotty paddling one of the bigger rapids in Marriots Gorge

Sweet boof off a drop in Marriots Gorge

Freedoms Gates

Chilling out at camp

The next day we didn’t really know where we wanted to end up, but paddled through fairly quickly to give ourselves time to potentially paddle up to the Gordon splits or put in a big day. Denison gorge was the next major obstacle to get through, which turned out to be short but intense. We paddled a few rapids, but a couple of the rapids before the major portage had logs in them so we ended up walking a fair bit. The major portage itself was fucking grim, with a big climb out of the river, not really a track across the side of a very steep slope, followed by an equally miserable descent to the river again, 100m downstream. It was baking hot in the sun and we were all pretty fried after the portage, so had lunch on the river at the bottom.

Portaging rapids in Denison Gorge

Miserable times hauling boats up the portage

The afternoon paddle looked mostly flat on the map, so I decided to ditch the drytop and opted for shorts and a t-shirt. This ended up being the best decision ever, as we paddled all the way to Sir John Falls that evening making it a huge day of flat-water in the sun. We slept on the jetty and finished the last of the wine, all absolutely shattered.

Jetty at Sir John Falls

With a whole day to paddle 20km of flatwater, we were pretty casual about the whole thing, and ended up arriving at heritage landing at about 2pm, giving us 21 hours to kill before the ferry picked us up. After many hours spent in a sleeping bag or lying in the sun, the boat arrived with the much anticipated buffet. I was down to 2 sachets of instant oats and some teabags, so we smashed some beers and annihilated the buffet that was included in our ticket price. 5 days, an amazing trip – grim times, epic times, rewarding times and good times.

End of a great trip!

Right now I’m up at Cradle Mountain doing some work as a canyoning guide, which is great. Sunny days in an awesome canyon, with enough daylight to do a few things after work. A few days ago we knocked off at about 3, so Joel and I went for a quick mission up Rysavy Ridge, soloing the 350m route in a bit over 3 hours car to car. I’m going to head back to Hobart via the Tyndalls, where I’m going to try a route I’ve wanted to repeat for a long time. The only thing that will stop me is not having the balls to go for it, so it’ll be character building even if I crash and burn. I’ve got lots of missions planned for summer that I should be able to do with a bung shoulder, and right now I’m pretty happy to be cruising around in the landcruiser living day to day with no commitments beyond next week. Good times.

Skiing, Fingal & The Star Factory

It’s all been happening since my last post. I’ve been on uni holidays for a few weeks now, which have been pretty damn good so far. The end of semester and exams were pretty hectic, and it’s been nice to have some time off but also get back into climbing harder routes. The holidays havent really been any less hectic, but at least I’ve been doing some cool stuff.

First up the weather looked terrible, which meant I might get a chance to test out my new skiing setup.  I drove up to the central highlands but had an epic driving the van round in the snow, and there wasnt quite enough cover so I bailed to Mt Field, where with Dad’s 4wd hilux driving wasnt a problem. I love learning stuff and mastering new skills, but being a beginner at skiing is one of the most miserable experiences you could have. Worse than learning to snowboard for sure. Skiing down the jeep track was arguably not the best place to learn, but you have to make do in Tassie and I had a good day falling over, learning to turn and resisted the temptation to go back to snowboarding!

The Jeep track at Mt Field

With the bad forecast continuing and more snow on the way, Dee and I packed up the van and drove up to Cradle Mountain, where there was a fair bit but not heaps of snow. Walking up the horse track, by the time we reached crater peak there was skiable cover so I strapped the skins on and climbed over the plateau and then down to kitchen hut. The alpine touring setup proved to be a great choice and i’m pretty stoked with the setup I got, although walking 6km in plastic boots that are slightly too small is pretty brutal. Anyway, I skied back across the plateau and down to marion’s lookout, and i’m finally feeling like i’ve got the hang of skiing. It is a much better way to get around the backcountry than walking with a snowboard and heaps more efficient. We finished off the trip by driving down the west coast over a couple of days, where we had abalone from Granville Harbour and did some touristy things in Strahan. Good times.

Dee and I at kitchen hut for lunch

Skinning up the plateau

Since then the weather has been great, which has meant all the snow has melted, and it’s been perfect for climbing.  I wasn’t really that psyched on going to Fingal, but unable to find anyone keen to go to the Star Factory I headed up there for a weekend. It actually turned out to be really good and got me psyched on the place. I was psyched to try Passchendaele (25), the much-hyped trad route up the centre of the wall, and even carried my rack up the hill to do it. But after standing at the base, I wasnt that inspired so decided to try Atomic Vampire (28), and although I figured it out pretty quickly I didnt have the fitness to put it all together. Coming off a board having climbed outside 3 times in a 13 week semester is a pretty big shock for the system, and I’ve always found it easy to maintain boulder power but hard to maintain endurance. There was a big, psyched crew up there which was great and meant there was always something happening on the boneyard ledge to keep things interesting. I had a few good burns on the second day, falling off the last hold, staring at the chains on my last shot. With unfinished business, I drove back to Hobart but hooked up a trip over the next few days with Chris and Kate from Launie, also on uni holidays and psyched to climb.

The boneyard – the orange shield high on the wall

After 1 rest day in Hobart, I drove back up to Fingal and met them there on another perfect sunny day. I was feeling pretty fresh after a day off, and hoped some of my fitness had come back. I put the draws on Atomic Vampire and after a quick rest sent it first redpoint. I was feeling heaps fitter and it was good to get a route done at that grade, as it’s been a while. Pretty psyched from the send, I thought i may as well not waste the day, so put my draws on Too Fast, Too Furious (28) and smashed some tuna to try and get one last burst of energy. I fell off the last move of the crux, but then after a long rest made it through and sent it at the end of the day. I’ve climbed one pitch of that grade since the last June holidays, so I was pretty stoked to do two in a day. We drove to Freycinet that night to climb at the Star Factory for the next two days, where I planned to try Entree (29). The factory is a pretty fiesty crag, and while I love the place and the style suits me – depending on the day, the conditions, skin, or sometimes for no reason at all, I get smacked. More on this later.

On the way down the coast, I figured I was climbing reasonably well, and I’ve always wanted to do Astro Boy (30), so I decided to try that. A water streak up a blank looking wall, this is one of the best routes up there and although a bit intimidated by it, I had to get on it. It starts with a hard boulder off the deck, maybe V8/V9, I’ve never bouldered so dont really know. After this it isnt too bad, but you can definitely still fall off it, as I found out. I managed to do the boulder after a few goes and stuck it from the ground at the end of the first day, having also climed from the boulder to the big rest in one go as well. The route shares the finish of Backyard Surgery (29), which I did this time last year.  I was pretty psyched on this progress, and still felt reasonable so after an athletes diet of a huge pasta meal and a Milton pinot at the lodge, it was an early night with high hopes for the next day. At this point, I love the Star Factory.

The next day I felt absolutely shattered, as did Chris and Kate. Not to worry, I can loosen up on the warmup, surely. I felt ok, and once the route was in the shade I went bolt to bolt on it and gave it a brush. I gave it a proper shot at the end of the day and fired the boulder no worries, but once I reached the sloper at the end of it, it became obvious I hadnt worked it out enough, as I hung there for a few seconds trying to remember what to do, then grabbed the draw. It’s a dodgy clip from an insecure position where if you blow it you would probably hit the deck, so although I was frustrated at having done the crux and bumbly bungled it, I worked out the right way to do it for next time.  Totally broken, I drove back to Hobart for another rest day, where I ate heaps, drank coffee and went for a swim to get the blood flowing.

No photos of this trip, so here is one I took of Will Bartlett on Astro Boy (30) last year

Driving up the next morning to meet Chris and Kate in the carpark again, I felt alright and was reasonably confident about the route but would just have to see how I went. We cruised up the hill with no time worries, as Astro Boy isnt in the shade until 2pm, and it is practically impossible to pull on before this. I replaced the fixed ropes at the Star Factory, which kept me occupied until it was time to give it a go. I felt great warming up, and despite slightly thin tips I barely felt warmed up after climbing Antimatter once which was a good sign. the day started out with really good conditions, but in the afternoon it became very still and muggy, which made conditions pretty terrible. Thinking I could make up for it with a bit more psyche, I gave it a red hot go anyway.  I made it through the boulder, made the clip, and got up to the next hardish move, a big throw to a pinch. I made the distance easily, but didnt have any power left to grab it. I found the boulder so much harder this time that I had lost all my power after doing it. Oh well, it’s a high point.

Another shot. I pulled on, made a few moves and was in the middle of a compression move between 2 sidepulls, when I felt I was moving around on the spoogy holds. I was pretty much off, but tried another move, fell, and managed to simultaneously ruin my tips and make my shoulder go clunk. Not ideal. I didnt have any pain in it, but felt something move as I rolled my body across on a throw. It felt fine, but I stayed at Coles Bay that night rather than driving to Fingal for the next day as planned to see how it would pan out. That brings us to now. Resting was a good choice, as it hurts more today so I drove home this morning. I dont think its a big deal but i’ll probably see someone about it as shoulders are generally pretty useful for climbing, and i’ve had problems in the past. I’m sure it will be fine, and I’ll be able to get back on Astro Boy real soon, hopefully when conditions are better. I havent been this psyched on one route since Deeper Water, but after being lured in and spat out, right now I hate the Star Factory.

Downtime

Bit of a boring post today, but just thought I’d let y’all know what’s been going on lately. Its been a long time since my last post, and to be honest, not much has been going on. I’d always joked that once I’d done Deeper Water I’d sell my rack and retire to my armchair, and this turned out not to be too far from the truth. After the initial high I was pretty burnt out after a big summer and needed some time off to do other things. Since then I’ve done absolutely shit all climbing, which has been great. Uni has been pretty hectic this semester and I’ve been spending most of my energy on that. Outside of this I’ve been doing a lot of slack lining which is a new way of challenging myself, and I’m sure there are plenty of highlining opportunities in Tassie for the future. I’ve also been doing a bit of mountain biking and diving but nothing as intensely as climbing.

Tensioning a slackline the easy way

It took about 9 weeks for me to get my psyche back, but when it happened it was like a light bulb turning on; I instantly wanted to go climbing again. I headed up to Fingal with a big crew from all over the state, and had a good weekend getting back into it. I flashed a 23 and a 24, not sure their names, but mainly tried ‘too fast, too furious’, a short steep 28. It was a pretty cool route, and I could do all the moves but didn’t have the power-endurance to link it together. I guess that’s what not getting pumped for 3 months will do to you! I was miles from doing the route, but it was a good weekend and good to see a new area of Tassie I hadn’t climbed on before. The highlight was definitely the self-proclaimed ‘Men of Fingal’ telling tales of the climbing antics of the past, when climbers could unashamedly squat on wine bottles.

I have to say I prefer the Star Factory, and am super keen to get on Entrée (29) this winter season. I haven’t been up there since last year, so I reckon I’ll take the van up there for a while in my winter break and try my luck. I also have a project at the Men’s Gallery which needs to go down, but I remember it being pretty damn hard so it might take a while.  Also this winter I’ve converted from snowboarding and bought a set of alpine touring skis, which mean I can hopefully get around the Tassie back-country a bit more, now it just needs to stop raining and start snowing.

What I’m psyched for, the Tasmanian backcountry!

Right now I’m studying hard for exams in a couple of weeks, but I’m also training more than ever, with a regular bouldering session now part of my routine again. I’ve got back most of the power I had, but endurance is definitely lacking and circuits are a bit demoralising when you get burnt off by the king of the weak-boys (you know who you are)! Other than that it’s nice to be back in the mindset where nothing matters except getting things done, no excuses. I went for a mtb ride the other day and it was great to get out of the car, put my headphones in and ride up a huge hill in the rain. I’m sure my brain must have gone wrong somewhere to find that enjoyable, but while climbing I’ve come to rely on that feeling where you don’t care about the suffering, only the experience; It’s nice to know its back. Stay tuned for winter.

The newish bouldering wall at my place that has been getting a lot of love recently

Deeper Water

After our Mt Anne trip, the following weekend Simon and I were still feeling like big wall free climbing, so headed up to the Tyndalls, attempting to free climb the line of ‘Leap of Faith’ 300m 22A3. The long and the short of it is that we onsighted all the existing free pitches up to the thin upper corners, then got a bit shut down above there and bailed. The quality of the free climbing was pretty low and it looked like it would get worse from there onwards, and we weren’t suitably equipped or psyched to aid it. Although it is a rad line and a stellar effort by the FA team to establish the first route on the face ground up on gear, it is probably best left as an aid line, even if it did go free above where we got to. The pitches up to there, especially the fourth pitch are pretty dangerous and I was very mentally drained after climbing them.  The next day we rapped in and climbed the top 3 pitches of Surface Tension (25), freeing 2 out of the 3 pitches, which is a really fun route that isn’t too committing and is set-up for a fun day out.

Pitch 5 (24) of Surface Tension (25) - Photo Simon Young

Since then I’ve been a bit burnt out for motivation to go and suffer on big cliffs, and also lost the psyche to climb dangerous pitches after 2 big trips in a row where there were times you couldn’t afford to make mistakes.  To get the psyche back I’ve been doing other things around the state such as boating, diving and generally hanging out, even a bit of work for a change. The best way to get psyched again is to take time off, so after a couple of weeks I felt rested and ready to go out and try something hard again.

With only a week left of my holidays I came to the realisation that I hadn’t tried the route I’d been daydreaming about all year and preparing for in one way or another – Deeper Water.  This is the route I have been the most psyched on for a long time: there is a hold on the woodie named after it, I look at the topo on my study desk and spent most lectures last year thinking about it. I felt I needed to get on this route before uni went back as I was in the best shape of my life, would not get another chance for almost a year, and it seemed like all the climbing I have been doing this summer lead up to climbing it. It was now or never.

I tried this route with Simon Young last year in a big wall style attempt spending 2 nights on the wall. He freed the first pitch on top-rope and I got shut down on it. I freed all the other pitches in some way or another, a mixture of leading and seconding, but sometimes only between no-hands rests rather than pitches.

With a solid forecast of fine and 25, 27 and 29 degrees for the days we would be there, Will Bartlett and I locked in a 5 day trip to the Tyndalls, with the intention of redpointing all the pitches and then hopefully doing it in a day, although I was not so confident about the latter, it all depended on the first pitch.

Unfortunately the day before we left the forecast changed to patchy rain/mist and not as warm, but with only 6 days left before 13 weeks of Uni there was no choice but to go and have a crack. After the long drive out after work on Tuesday, we stopped for a beer and a meal at one of Queenstown’s fine pubs, then slept in the car park ready to walk up and get into things early.  We made it to the cave at about 10 the next day and with fine weather for the time being, we decided to camp in the meadows at the top of the route, rather than the cave as it is closer in case we wanted a really early start or a late finish. Setting up camp we organised all our gear for the wall, sorted out 320m of static rope, one climbing rope and mustered up the psyche to rap in.

Our camp 10m from the top of Deeper Water - Lewis

Rapping into the Golden Corner – Photo Will Bartlett

Fixing ropes took a long time but we eventually made it to the bottom, with heaps of time to try the first pitch that day.  I had 2 burns on it and after a huge dogging session the first time, got some good linkages happening on the second try but still couldn’t do the crux (for me) boulder every time. I did work out a sequence that worked, but I was pretty tired by the time I figured it out and couldn’t do it every time. The way I figured out was around V4/V5 after 30m of hard climbing, so would be reasonably hard to redpoint.  Feeling not so great about my chances, we made the long jumar out and hung out in the meadow, eating gourmet meals (backcountry cuisine packets) and rehydrating (whiskey) after a long day.

Unfortunately when we checked the weather that night the forecast had gone bad, and we expected to be tent bound the next day.  In true Tyndalls style the weather rolled in, bringing rain, wind and lots of mist to the tent, making for a grim stay. It was a long stay as well, as we spent the whole next day in the tent and the following night, making 36 hours with dry space the size of a coffin each.  We both went a bit crazy in this time, and I lost count of the number of times I listened to the same songs on my ipod, the battery of which we kept carefully warmed in our sleeping bags. Luckily Will had some of the Dosage movies on his phone so I watched Tommy Caldwell free climb the nose and free rider in a day, to keep the psyche high and put our suffering in perspective

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A hot powerade to keep morale up while tentbound - Photo Alex Lewis

When the mist finally cleared we got out of the tent and savoured the sun, rapping in to the wall at about 10am, expecting most of it to be wet and unclimbable.  The plan was to try the first pitch until we were absolutely shattered but get it totally worked out for next time, then bail and clean the ropes.  Abseiling into full mist on the head-wall was a pretty surreal experience, but it cleared by the time we reached the base

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Abseiling into the mist - Photo Will Bartlett

We had no reason to stop and there were long sections on the same ropes, so we started out going down pretty fast. The downside of this was that our gri-gri’s got a bit hot and there is nothing quite like wet ropes hissing and steaming  at you with 200m of air below you. After a break for them to cool down and a slower pace, we made it to the bottom without mishap.  Will lowered me in to the first pitch and I soon realised the top corner was wet and probably unclimbable. Although disappointing it was also relieving as I knew the pressure of redpointing the pitch that day had gone and I could just enjoy the climbing, almost like an excuse in case I got shut down again.  With all my expectations and pressures gone, I started climbing the pitch, fully intending to go slowly, warm up on the first few moves then sort out all the moves and sequences to the top.  Usually I hate making excuses, but the relaxation and newfound focus I had worked in my favour this time, because despite pulling on cold and a few wet holds at the top I freed the pitch on top rope.

With a renewed psyche to climb the pitch I smashed some energy gels, lowered Will in for a try and then rapped to the ground to have a shot. By this time the rock was cooking in the sun so we decided to wait a couple of hours for the sun to leave, in which time I listened to some tunes and went for a quick dip in the lake to reduce my swollen big-wall hands and feet.  About 2:30, when the sun had been off the wall for half an hour or so, I pulled on totally focused to give it everything, as with no skin, not much time left and being physically drained I knew this was the best chance I had of sending the pitch. Feeling calm and relaxed throughout the pitch, I forced myself to focus on one sequence at a time, milk the rests where I could and not think about clipping the chains, which after 40m of climbing I finally did.  It was one of the most memorable pitches I’ve ever redpointed; long,  involving the whole way, a few desperate boulders and just enough rests to keep you breathing, it is a total classic.

Just after sending the first pitch - Lewis

In the interests of time Will decided to jug the pitch and we made our way upwards again.  I had originally wanted to do it in a day, but the way we tried it, the weather and the fact I found the first pitch so bloody hard meant I had to give that idea away, instead deciding I wanted to properly redpoint every pitch on the route, some of which I had done last year, meaning I had 5 pitches left to send.

The third pitch, the ‘Crazy Sexy Pitch’, 24 was the first of these, so in the late afternoon I tied in and gave it a crack. Last time I thought this pitch was awesome, and other than the first pitch I personally think it’s the best on the route. The start was easier than I remembered, and I made it past the crux to the no hands rest, then managed to screw up an easy move by rushing and fall off on easy ground high on the pitch.  A bit gutted, I forced myself to stay calm, work it out and get it done, going to the top then lowering down for a second go. I cruised it second go, and we decided to call it a day, cleaning our ropes to the top of this pitch and jumaring out while it was light.

I was pretty psyched that night and worked out what I had left to do, which was the ‘balls in a juicer’ pitch (25/26), a short boulder pitch (23) and the last 2 easy pitches. With one day left before we had to go, the pressure was on a little bit, mainly because it was forecast to be 34 degrees.

Packing the percolator at 5am - Photo Will Bartlett

Rapping in the next day at 6am to avoid the heat, I sussed out the ‘balls in a juicer’ crux then tied in and had a shot. It’s pretty thin and was a brutal warm up to try for breakfast, and not surprisingly I bungled it and fell off. I worked out a sequence for the rest of the hard bit, then lowered down, had some water and gave it a shot.  I expected to fall off the first time, but when I nailed the right sequence and still fell off for a second time, things started to get tense. I had expected to cruise up it, but sharp holds, thin skin and technical moves got the better of me. This was the first time I had considered that I may not be able to redpoint all the pitches this trip, but I had to shut this out, tie in for another shot and focus on getting it done. Luckily I sent it third try, and we continued upwards, cleaning our ropes and hauling our gear as we went.

Early Morning light on the 'Balls in a Juicer' Pitch - Photo Will Bartlett

The 23/24 boulder pitch was next up, which after hauling our gear to the top of we rapped in and I climbed it first shot, albeit by the skin of my teeth. With only two grade 20 pitches left to redpoint, I started to relax a bit and enjoy being there, even though we were both getting fully cooked by the sun and the hot day jumaring and hauling. Luckily the last 2 pitches were a bit of a formality and by 12:30 we were standing on the top and out of our harnesses.  Huge thanks to Will for the good times and belay/support, hopefully I can do the same for him next summer on it.

Unbelievably stoked, it was the realisation of a dream I’ve had for a pretty long time, and one of my most memorable and best trips out there.  While I wanted to do it in a day, I’m happy I went about it in the way I did, maybe if circumstances had been different I would have gone ground up pulling ropes, but I doubt I would have redpointed it.  I feel fit enough to do it in a day, but only now I know what the pitches are like and have done them all before.  It’s just a matter of getting the first pitch over and done with early, then slogging it out to the top and picking the right day to try it. Hopefully I’ll try it at Easter if I can keep up some fitness while I’m studying until then.

How hard is it?
Pretty hard I reckon, but not outrageously hard.
Originally given 26, I feel like the first pitch is more like 28, maybe not super hard for the grade, but it depends so much on your climbing style. There are a few powerful moves and some mingin’ holds on it, but its more about moving well on the rock, standing on non-existent footholds and keeping it together mentally, as it’s a looong pitch. The main thing is that it’s an amazing pitch, a great long free route, and is well worth the shit-fight that is and always will be climbing at the Tyndalls.  If you don’t free the first pitch, the rest of the route is still awesome with a lot of quality climbing on it. Fight to get the sharp end for the golden corner pitch, its classic and is only hard for a few metres at the end.

Monday marked the end of an unbelievable summer I’ve had climbing in heaps of different areas, with heaps of great people.  Now I’m back at Uni learning about the cardiac conduction system, which is great, but it’s a world away from being a climbing bum on the road almost full time.   Now it’s time for another year of training and a winter sport climbing, where I’m looking forward to day trips, bolts and short walk ins! It’s also time to start getting strong for next summer; I’ve moved house and the new bouldering wall is almost finished, ready for some serious hours of circuits. Stay tuned.

Mt Anne

I was filled with both psyche and anxiety when I picked up Simon from his place, packing assorted gear into the car for the first real mission we’d done together in a long time: A trip to Mt Anne to free climb a line on the SE face he had aided the first pitch of last year.  We were both familiar with the slog up to the Mt Anne/Mt Eliza plateau, and having done it myself only a week ago, I knew just how grim it was going to be.  With plans only to walk up the hill that day and camp at the top, we cruised up at a slow but steady pace, getting to the hut in an hour and a half, then after a quick break on to the summit of Mt Eliza in time for a perfect sunset, arriving at our campsite just on dark.  After a quick instant meal for a late dinner, a quick sort of the gear for the next day and some last minute tactics talk, we hit the hay aiming for an early start in the morning, expecting a big day.

Gourmet camp cooking - Young

Waking at 5:30 to the inside of a cloud, I was relieved when Simon made the call to sleep in for a bit longer. Getting out of bed at a more reasonable hour, we quickly had a Clif bar and a coffee then scooted across the plateau, still surrounded by mist.  Descending the gully that leads down to the base of the SE face I was pretty psyched out by the whole place; the huge scree slopes that were once attached to the cliffs, the magnitude of the landscape and the committing setting we were entering.  It was not until the bottom of the gully abseil when the sun came out and I saw the face for the first time that my nerves settled and I could enjoy being there.

Simon descending the gully towards the SE face -Lewis

Scrambling up to the base of the wall proper, the temperature was rising and so were my spirits, and keen to get into it while my psyche was high I asked if I could lead the first block, and thankfully Simon agreed, as calm as ever.

Business face at the base of the SE face - Young

Simon thought the first pitch would go free at 22 or thereabouts but would be a little bit bold. In my mind, I figured that if it was runout or hard, he couldn’t have done it rope solo… how hard could it be?  He was right about the 22 bit, but I was amazed how sketchy it was in places, especially off the belay; a solid effort by Simon last year. Nevertheless, it was one pitch onsighted and out of the way, and by this stage it was warm and sunny, no wind and a perfect day in the SW… the psyche was high! Simon had said the next pitch looked like classic fingers, and it was one of the most striking crack lines visible on photos. I was not disappointed when I got to the belay, the pitch above looked incredible.

Climbing the first pitch - Young

We went pretty light, hand hauling a small bag on a tag line without much gear or food and water. After a bit of a cluster fuck on the first pitch getting my systems sorted, we continued upwards, racking up and psyching up for what looked like a hard pitch on an amazing feature.

Good times at the top of the first pitch, racking up for the crux - Young

After some stemming up a pillar with thin gear I committed to the splitter finger crack, which was as good as it looked; a featured green/yellow alien crack with a few wider flaring pods for feet.  Making it to a strenuous rest at the top of the crack I was pretty worked, but managed to get enough back to continue up the flaring groove above. Insecure finger locking, stemming and body scumming in the v-groove took me higher and higher towards an easy looking corner, which appeared to continue to a ledge.  Totally spent from the onsight attempt so far, I made it to within a couple of metres of an easy hand crack and was faced with some unexpected crux moves at the very end of the pitch. With no other option I committed to the sequence and gave it everything I had, but was totally drained and couldn’t pull through, whipping off to blow the onsight of the route.  Totally fucked from a deep deep pump, I had a long rest on the rope and after swinging back up to my highpoint, pulled on and went to the top of the pitch.

About to step into the finger crack on the crux pitch - Young

Making it to the top with one hang was great, but it was not how we had wanted to do the route and I was pretty shattered to have blown it. Disappointment aside, I did realise I had put in one of my best efforts on gear anywhere, and to have gone so hard on such an awesome pitch in the location I felt satisfied with the experience, and with the pitch turning out to be around grade 26 I can’t be too disappointed. Simon seconded it free to the same point but came off, then tried to work out the crux a few times. Coming up to the ledge it was decision time.

I knew I was shattered and didn’t really think I could redpoint the pitch without a long rest, still pumped from the first try, but I also knew that I would regret not trying to free it. The main concern was that we still had 150m+ of virgin rock to climb and we didn’t know how hard it would be or how long it would take. I decided to go hard and have a shot.  I’m sure Simon would have had a redpoint if I had decided against it, but it was a pretty big mental choice for me to rap down again and psyche up to lead a hard pitch on gear for the second time.

Rapping down with some tunes playing on my iPod, I ticked up a few holds, worked out the crux fist jam move a little, trimmed the big cams off the rack and collected myself.
Cruising up the first finger crack part of the pitch, I felt much fresher climbing into the groove.  Placing the gear on lead during the redpoint, I tried to place a lot less than on the onsight attempt, instead trying to conserve energy for the crux.  I made it a move or two higher and got the crux fist jam in place, but I didn’t have enough power left to pull through, whipping off for another ride. The devastation quickly set in with the realisation I couldn’t free the route today.  Jumaring the tag line to the top to save my energy, I put Simon on belay and he gave it his all. With a stellar effort and a slightly different sequence he freed the pitch on second, to give a grade of around 26AO.

Simon climbing splitter cracks high on the route - Lewis

I handed the sharp end over to Simon for his block, and we continued upwards. With a lot of rock above us we wanted to keep moving, but were not too worried about time as there was plenty of daylight left.  After a short scramble pitch, Simon headed up a splitter hand crack of various widths for 20m to onsight one of the most fun pitches on the route at about grade 20. We were getting pretty high on the wall by this stage, and the exposure had started to kick in. Trundling a block from a ledge partway up the next pitch, it fell for around 5 seconds before crashing into the valley below. While the most rewarding style to climb, this showed the double edged sword of going ground up.

The next and last pitch was another stellar effort by Simon, cleaning a thin finger crack/seam as he went and onsighting it to produce a grade 22/23 thin corner into a squeeze chimney to the top.  Topping out of the first buttress around 5pm we took a few mins to chill out, have some food and the last mouthfuls of our water.

Chimneying to the top of the first 180m buttress - Young

After the first buttress we scrambled up a couple of hundred metres on steep grass to the foot of the last buttress. The line Garry and Simon took up this buttress on the FA of the regular route looked good, but at around 25 and very short, we opted to find a more classic easier free line, vaguely following a 1970s route up some chimneys. I lead the final 2 pitches to the summit at around 19 then 18, up a hand crack and scramble into the base of a chimney, then up the chimney and an offwidth to the top.  Topping out into the sun and enjoying the perfect evening after a rad day of climbing was one of my most memorable climbing moments and after the obligatory summit shot we cruised back across the plateau.  The perfect evening turned into a nice sunset and after annihilating a freeze dried meal and multiple cups of tea, we played some tunes and enjoyed the experience of the day to produce ‘Running On Air 220m 26AO’.

Simon in the midst of chimneys and offwidths on the final pitch - Lewis

All smiles at the top of the route

Walking back across the plateau after a long day - Lewis

 

Topo drawn in the log book

Crack Days

Lately I haven’t had a proper job so I’ve been painting the house, and sneaking in half days of climbing locally when people with real jobs have time off and the weather is good. When the pipes have been too cold or misty we have been heading to the Lost World to bask in the sun and do some routes that are shorter, but still pack a punch.

Lost World is great in that it has multiple moderate to hard crack climbs of various widths, in particular a few offwidth testpieces, and a few harder bolted arêtes all in a small area. Will has been trying Cheshire Cat (29) and is looking pretty solid on it, gunning for the second ascent. While he’s been trying that I’ve been working my way through some of the old-school crack lines and thrutching up some forgotten test-pieces.

Savage Journey (left) and Cruise Air (right)

The Savage Journey wall is probably the most inspiring wall at Lost World, being 30m high, 1-2m overhanging and home to a couple of grade 22 crack routes. Savage Journey is the more famous of the two and I had seconded it a few years ago so was a logical starting point; it has a decent reputation around the traps, but figuring it was well protected I thought I might as well have a crack and send it or grovel trying. I knew roughly what to expect but being on the sharp end this time, it took some psyching up for me to tie in. After an easy start the crack widens to almost a body chimney with a #3 crack in the back, then shuts down to a splitter #4 section, which for me is the crux, being wider than fists. I squirmed my way up it in horrendous style, and despite being sure I was off multiple times, I managed to wedge a limb into the crack when it was needed and pull through to the top.

When I topped out I was bleeding from my ankles and hands, had grazed shoulders and felt like throwing up – a testament to my lack of offwidth technique. Despite getting spanked on it I still had a great time; I find these routes are the ones I have to work hardest on, and are the most memorable, even if they don’t seem much fun at the time. I couldn’t convince Will to second me.

After Savage Journey it was time for round 2, this time with its next door neighbour Cruise Air, also 22. I’d heard varying things about this route (mostly that it was nails), and standing at the top looking down the body chimney that splits the cliff made me a bit weak in the knees.

Another sunny day with Will and visiting climber Matt saw me taping up at the base, learning from Savage Journey and taping my ankles as well as hands.  Despite recommendations it would be wet (which it was) and that perhaps I should leave it for another day, I psyched up and gave it a go. The start turned out to be the crux, where I almost came unstuck about 8m up after sprinting to a hold I thought was a jug, but in true dolerite style was a horrible dirty sloper.  After cruising up the middle hand crack, I dived in (literally) to the final offwidth section, shuffling my #5 camalot up the last 8m or so.  It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, but it was still grim. Luckily I left my helmet at the base, as it would have prevented some of the good head jams to be had on the last section. With Will taking photos and a few other local climbers on Atlantis it was an entertaining struggle, but I still couldn’t convince anyone to second me.

The start of the wide section on Cruise Air 22 - Photo Will Bartlett

Miscalculating the size of the cam/crack on Cruise Air - Photo Will Bartlett

For the same grade, Savage Journey has harder offwidth climbing for my body/hand size, but the start of Cruise Air is by far harder than Savage Journey and more committing. Both are great routes and sadly don’t see enough attention, get out there and get into them people! For a really good afternoon that will work you hard, link them both up with Atlantis and Rosy Pink Cadillac. I’m keen to improve my offwidth climbing ability and have had fun so far, so with a number 6 on its way in the mail, I’ll hopefully be posting a few more wide adventure trip reports this summer.

Relieved to be topping out on Cruise Air 22 - Photo Will Bartlett

November at Arapiles

2011 was my first year of university, which means I’ve been pretty busy throughout the winter months and haven’t had much time to climb. I’ve had enough time to train on the home woody though, which has meant I’ve stayed in reasonable shape, for a weak boy. Sure enough, with high volumes of bouldering I managed to injure my finger which needed about a month off climbing to heal. While I was waiting for my injury (4^th lumbrical tear) to come good I had the stupid idea of going for a run to keep fit. This led to running at night by headtorch, where I managed to twist my ankle pretty badly, requiring a trip to emergency for an x-ray, crutches and a brace for a while. Although the brace looked pretty cool, it didn’t help my return time to climbing. This all happened leading up to and during my exams, so it was probably a blessing in disguise to have to do some study instead of training all the time.  Once semester finished though, I was free to go climbing full time and was psyched to make up for a slow year in the way of route climbing. By this time my finger could handle careful climbing, but my ankle wasn’t feeling up to the walk-ins of most Tassie crags.  What to do? Where could I get fit doing lots of pitches, on gear, without having to walk too far to the crag? Arapiles of course.

A Taste of Honey (21) - Photo Jed Parkes

Jed and some other Tasmanians were going to be there for a month, so I booked the cheapest flight I could find, packed my tent, rack and percolator and got on a plane to Melbourne. After cruising out to Horsham on public transport Jed gave me a lift to the pines which made it an easy trip and kept costs down.

Frothing with psyche, I had to climb something that day, so cruised up the classic Skink (18) on the watchtower face with Jed and Sarah.  A perfect introductory Arapiles route, cruising up it on a nice evening got me psyched to get on some harder stuff the next day and see how my ankle and finger would handle it. Jed and I headed off to Henry Bolte gully wall, where after the pumpiest warm up routes of our lives, I tried The Fortress (26).  Despite getting to the last hard move on my flash attempt, I didn’t send the route that day, going backwards over the next 3 or 4 shots, eventually bailing to some easier routes for the afternoon. Climbing on a woody all year eventually paid off, and I returned the next morning to send the route first shot. A lazy afternoon was in order, but the send gave me enough psyche to drag myself up Have a Good Flight (25) in a few shots that afternoon.

The next 8 days were a blur of pitch after pitch of quality climbing, and were a great way to get my head into gear for the trad climbing I want to do in Tassie this summer.  I felt fairly strong heading over, but having climbed on a board all year I was very unfit.  Climbing lots of pitches and onsighting trad routes was the best possible way for me to get fit and feel confident climbing on natural gear.  I only had 1 full rest day, preferring to climb lots of routes close to my limit rather than project a single route at my limit.

Reaper (22) Photo John Fischer

To be honest the routes all blur into one, but highlights of the trip were:

Orestes (23) – A trad corner classic I fell off last year
Onsighting Dreadnaught (24) by the skin of my teeth – A tricksy & bouldery crack climb in a shady gully
Tag-teaming Birdman of Alcatraz (23) with Jed – an incredible technical slab route
A taste of honey (21) – a gymnastic route I fell off 2 years ago and hadn’t been back to
Reaper (22) – Seems to have a big reputation for being a trench? If you think it’s wide then come to Tassie

Birdman of Alcatraz (23) - Photo Jed Parkes

My last day at Arapiles was a great mental breakthrough as I managed to pull some ascents out of the bag when I thought the chips were down.  I tried The Undertaker (25) in the morning, and after top roping it was able to send it in a couple of tries. Feeling pretty knackered I felt like bailing for the day, but I still had my gear in Procul Harum (26) from a half-arsed attempt a few days previously. Struggling for motivation on the cold windy day, I had a quick lie down in my hoodie at the base and listened to some tunes, then with no other way to get my gear back, headed up it planning to aid my way to the chains.

Procul Harum (26) Photo Harry Larkins

Feeling surprisingly good on the crux I decided that perhaps I should have a decent redpoint, even though I was running on empty. After one bungled attempt I found myself somehow at the rest after the crux, staring down the overhanging trench looming out over the landscape. Fighting my way up it I managed to get to the lip and then on the chains, to cap off a great last day of climbing.  With 2 routes done for the day I took the afternoon off, went to the pub and chilled out.  Heading back to Tassie the next morning I was absolutely shattered physically, but super psyched after doing around 45 routes in 10 days.

I can’t talk about Arapiles without talking about Mind Arthritis (27). I’ve tried this route on 2 previous trips and have come oh so close but never sent it. I dragged people up there to belay me on it a couple of times this trip (thanks guys!) and figured out the crux boulder after a few tries. Although I could do it every time off the rope, it was the same story as last trip, being unable to link it from the ground, falling 5 times on the last move on redpoint. This was mentally draining and in the end I had to give up as I was going backwards and my skin was shot.

Mind Arthritis (27) - Photo Jed Parkes

A big thanks to everyone who climbed with me, kept me psyched and entertained at the campsite. I had a great trip and I’ll definitely be back.