|
The
Warrumbungles page 5
Bradley Newcombe Oct 97
<< Previous
Tuesday will be my last day here and today Ian and I will climb
Bastion Buttress.
It was early when we woke. The sun had yet to break the cold of
night. The wind whipped around the hut as we ate a hurried breakfast.
Clouds sat menacingly on the horizon, daring us to go forth. I had
climbed OK yesterday but the nervousness and apprehension was still
there. The darkness and cold do nothing to lighten my mood. We continue
our preparation and soon the food and water for the day is packed.
We will use Ian's rack and one eleven millimetre rope. As the sun
starts to light the day we take off, walking at a brisk pace up
the track. At the junction of the summit track and our approach
track we head into the bush. Things start to look familiar and soon
we are on a slightly worn track, ten minutes later we reach the
bottom of the climb. The wind is still circling savagely and the
mountain is in shadow, cold and threatening. I have sub-consciously
decided that Ian can lead the first pitch. At the bottom we look
around to try and find the first belay. I offer the helpful advice
that a piton forms part of the belay. There are a few good possibilities
and Ian ties in and starts our adventure.
The first pitch goes slightly up then traverses left. With the form
of the rock it is important to get the right series of ledges that
will lead you to the belay. Ian climbs boldly up to his first placement,
then heads slightly right to sling a very solid shrub. Reversing
his moves he now heads left. He climbs very solidly and picks the
right route. He finds the piton and announces his discovery; I am
relieved. He puts in the first belay and starts to take in rope.
By this time Jeremy and Debbie have reached the bottom of the climb.
They are not to thrilled at the sight of the first pitch. I can
understand their feelings. We try to figure out how to bring them
up. Eventually it is decided that I will take some of their slings
and trail their rope up to the shrub then clip the rope back in
and drop it back down to them. This will protect them from the long
climb to the first piece of pro. I am soon at the tree and lower
the rope back down to them.
Now I start the traverse across toward Ian. It was on this pitch
last year that I had some problems. We had two ropes then and I
was able to get out of it. This time we only have one, I hope nothing
goes wrong. Fortune smiles upon me this time and there are no surprises,
save for a handhold that breaks off in my grasp, but this is the
Warrumbungles and broken holds aren't really a surprise. I reach
Ian and tie into the belay. The sun is now showing and the mountain
is finally starting to warm up. We exchange the rack and it is my
turn on the sharp end.
The start of the pitch is a steep wall with small positive
crimps and good pro. The climbing moves consist of holding your
body balanced and in close to the rock. Then smoothly bringing up
one foot feeling your centre of gravity change, until you place
the foot on the next foothold and re-establish your balance. Then
you hold that foot still, feel the sole grip the rock and feel the
nuances of the rock through the rubber…knowing the slightest
movement could see it skate off the rock and turn your Zen state
into a screaming panic. The foot doesn't move and you can breathe
again. Now hold the foot still and push down hard with it as you
pull down with your arms, extending upward to reach the next hold
and begin the sequence again.
I climb in this way to just under the roofs and start the long traverse
left. The climbing is superb across smooth steep sloping blocks.
I place my feet near the edge and balance, feeling as if my body
is just inches away from plummeting over the edge. With my balance
established I step sideways and left establishing my feet wide apart.
I bring my hands over and now hold my body still as I bring my right
leg over to match the left. The only thing to break the climbing
is the occasional stop to place pro.
I continue to the end of the ledges where I have to step down and
around the corner. Here the cliffs form a vertical gully straight
to the earth below. It is a committing move across the void and
down seemingly to be sucked into it. Then my foot touches the rock
and I can take some weight off my arms. I bring the other foot down
and now I can see the short ramp that leads to the next belay. As
I continue across I realise I am there. For all the time I have
been climbing this moment is one of the finest. I have a feeling
of immense satisfaction as I place my belay, whatever it was that
I came here to do, I feel that now I have done it. I take in the
rope, give Ian three whistles to let him know he is on belay and
start bringing him up. He reaches the belay and we swap the rack.
It is warm and sunny and now the way is open to the top.
Ian leads off and I am left at the solitude of the belay. If you
aren't enjoying the climbing a belay can be a lonely place as you
nervously wait for your leader to give you a signal. But when the
day is going well a belay is a haven of solitude and peace where
you can relax with your thoughts and watch the rope slowly mark
your path up the cliff. From around the corner I hear the jingle
jangle of a lead rack and soon Debbie's beaming face appears. She
looks happy enough to burst and I can tell she has enjoyed the lead
as much as I did. She places her belay near mine and we soak up
some more sun. Shortly I hear a call from above and it is time for
me to leave. I move across steep and solid blocks heading upward.
I pass the sloping ledge that was our belay last year and see Ian
about eight metres above. At the belay I stop and collect the rest
of the rack then resume my climb. This is my first experience of
swinging leads. Of the multi-pitch climbs I have done previously
most I have lead throughout. This is something new for me and something
that I realise speeds up the climbing and makes it much more enjoyable
as well. At the belay you have a break for two pitches as your second
climbs to you then leads through for the next pitch. Then when it
is your turn to climb you second up to your leader, collect the
gear and now warmed up and climbing ready you take on the sharp
end. Now I was on the sharp end and I climbed up and headed slightly
right scrambling up large boulders and across large blocks. Ian
called that I had ten metres of rope left. I saw a good-sized ledge
right on the edge of the cliff and decided to belay from there.
This was a spectacular position as on one side the cliff soared
up to the summit and on the other side it plummeted to the ground.
Ian was shortly at the belay and we again swapped gear. By now the
sun was really starting to beam down and I faced into the cliff
to try and hide from its burning eyes. I watched as the rope kept
feeding out. I called out for 10 metres, then five metres, then
two metres. I heard no reply and had visions of Ian caught mid-move
at the end of the rope cursing for slack. With barely a loop of
rope left I heard the call of safe then on belay. I dismantled the
belay and moved up. While the last pitch was on good rock this pitch
went through garbage. This was not a cliff but more a loose pile
of torso-sized rocks with each one threatening to loosen at any
time. I climbed gingerly and removed the pro with great care. I
held my breath as I test numerous footholds and more than once I
felt rocks wobble beneath me as I weighted them. It was with relief
that I moved onto more solid rock.
The mountain had changed character now and had begun to flatten
off toward the summit. I reached Ian's belay and complimented him
on another solid lead. All that was left now was a quick roped jog
to the top. I took the pro I had and headed off. The climbing was
across a sloping shoulder with the occasional rock and small face
thrown in. No times before, this time perhaps the last. Of all the
great adventures I have had this has been the best and the one I
have grown the most from. |
|
Photo: Adam Bramwell
The view of Flight of the Phoenix (17) from Bastion's third belay |
|
