Doug and I climbed Whale of a Time on the way to Sydney after our Windang weekend. I wouldn’t normally drive to Sydney to climb, although, to be fair, Sydney actually has a lot of good climbing locations, micro crags I would call them. Short routes around 15 metres at most but some are good quality and you have to remember that this is a major city in a country where every level of government is populated by terminally nervous bed-wetters. Yes that is a pejorative. Any culture with such an extreme aversion to risk is not a system wherein humans thrive.
Anyway, I would know nothing about the route except my nephew had asked me to climb it with him. Luckily, and appropriately (a 32 year old man should not be climbing with his 62 year old aunt) he found another climbing partner to complete the climb with. Whale of a Time is insanely popular! Possibly because it is one of the few multi-pitch climbs within striking distance of Sydney, or because it is a short walk in (although I feel like I spent more time walking than climbing), or maybe because it is well bolted and the overlook is scenic. Strangely, it seems that, much like my nephew, most people who climb the route climb only Whale of a Time, not any of the other routes on the crag! An Australian thing, I suspect.
Access is via abseil and we got to the top anchors just a few moments after a couple of young blokes with an 80 metre rope. For some crazy reason, Australian climbers have been seduced into buying 80 metre ropes although most pitches are less than half of 60 metres. Eighty metres is a lot of rope to deal with on 15 metre pitches. But, in this instance it was handy as we asked the young blokes if we could abseil on their rope which saved us doing two abseils to get to the start of the route and meant that they could start up the route without waiting for us to clear the first pitch.
It’s a funny climb. A weirdly stiff start, followed by a long traverse which apart from a couple of moves is shuffling along a small foot ledge with good ironstone plate handholds and then a very easy pitch to finish. The ironstone plates look strong but there are broken holds all along the route! It was outrageously windy by the time we were at the top of the first pitch although the young blokes climbed quickly they had 80 metres of rope to deal with and that takes time. We scurried up the last pitch and really took very little time to enjoy the ambience as it was freezing! Typical Australian spring weather, from 32 Celsius to a howling gale and driving spittle.
On Thursday I started my “fast training.” To paddle long distances (or run or bicycle) you need good aerobic capacity and the only way – despite what the headlines might say – to build aerobic capacity is the usual – loved or hated (it can be both) – long aerobic distance. This used to be called long slow distance until the people who name things realised that some people have such massive aerobic capacity that their aerobic pace is not that slow. Hence, long aerobic distance. The only problem with long aerobic distance is that if you do nothing else, you risk being really slow. So, in addition to long aerobic distance, when I am training I try to get some fast short distance. This goes something like: 10 to 15 minute warm-up (or paddle about a kilometre) then try to keep an 8 kilometre/hour pace for an hour or so, followed by a 10 to 15 minute cool down or one kilometre. I’ve pushed this as high as 1.5 hours at an 8+ kilometre/hour pace, but, as with all training, you have to build up. Consistency is better than one shot and you are burnt out. It’s much easier to do this on flat water but I don’t do big flat water trips so I usually tough it out and do it on the ocean. Sometimes conditions are such that hitting 8 kilometres/hour is a tough gig.
On Sunday, I risked the crowds to ride the Mogo trails only there were no crowds! I don’t know if it was lunch time or too hot or the other riders could smell the waft of my Deet and Permethrine tick repellent but the trails were really quiet. For the first time since the tick incident I rode on the shady side, down Al Capone’s Garden – what a hoot – and up Jackhammer. Of course, I had literally a dozen phantom ticks coming up Jackhammer as it is still damp down there and the forest is very green and overhangs the trail but luckily all the ticks were mere imaginings.
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